Queen Elizabeth National Park, Uganda's iconic wildlife sanctuary, is not only a thriving ecosystem but also a battleground for communities living on its edges.
These communities, once living in harmony with the animals, now face growing challenges of displacement, wildlife threats, and limited benefits from conservation programs.
An average of 600 cases of human-wildlife conflict are reported weekly around Uganda’s national parks, with Queen Elizabeth National Park recording the highest number of incidents.
Elephants trample crops, lions attack livestock, and crocodiles, displaced from their natural habitats, kill unsuspecting residents.
Festo Kajura, Coordinator of the Ethnic Minority Initiative and a longtime resident of Katwe, speaks to the frustrations of his people.
“We conserved these animals even before the park was created. We lived with them peacefully without poaching or disturbing their habitats. But since authorities started imposing barriers and electric fences, it feels like we’re being antagonized,” Kajura says.
Kajura represents the Basongora, pastoralists who claim ancestral ties to the land now part of Queen Elizabeth National Park.
They argue that government conservation programs, which aim to share park revenue, have excluded them from benefiting directly from their historical connection to the land.
Lost Ancestral Lands and Unfulfilled Promises
Part of the area now occupied by Queen Elizabeth National Park was once a grazing land for the Basongora. When British explorers Stanley and Lugard toured the region in the late 19th century, they found it largely depopulated due to cattle raids and epidemics.
The Basongora social economy struggled to recover, and by the early 20th century, much of the population had either been displaced or turned to fishing, a shift that allowed wildlife populations to flourish.
In 1906, the area north of Lake George was designated as a Game Reserve to curb unregulated hunting. This led to the creation of one of Uganda’s first national parks in 1952, originally called Kazinga National Park and renamed Queen Elizabeth National Park two years later in honor of Queen Elizabeth II.
Historically, the Basongora, Bakonzo, and other indigenous tribes lived in the area. But when the park was gazetted, many of these communities, especially the Basongora from Katwe to Hima, were displaced and lost access to vital resources.
Kajura criticizes the government's revenue-sharing promise, which allocates 20% of the park’s earnings to local communities, arguing that it doesn’t specifically compensate the original landowners.
“The 20% goes to everyone in the area, but nothing specifically compensates the original landowners. We need an increment to 30%, with 10% allocated to the former owners as affirmative action. Our people have endured historical injustices that have never been addressed,” Kajura says.
The Basongora’s pastoralist lifestyle conflicts with modern conservation efforts. Restrictions on grazing and water access force herders to travel long distances, further intensifying tensions between local communities and park authorities.
The Wildlife Threat
As wildlife moves beyond the park in search of food and water, human-wildlife conflict continues to escalate. Kajura notes that while electric fencing is intended to keep wildlife within the park, it has not alleviated the problem.
“Elephants still cross into our homes, destroying crops and threatening lives. Crocodiles from Lake George have killed people in Katwe, Kahendero, and Hamukungu villages. The situation is alarming,” Kajura explains.
Bashir Hangi, Communications Manager for the Uganda Wildlife Authority (UWA), acknowledges the challenges, attributing the problem to changing weather patterns that force animals closer to human settlements in search of food and water.
“When it rains, animals move to safer ground, and during the dry season, they search for food and water. This leads to conflict with communities, resulting in social and economic loss,” Hangi says.
UWA has introduced measures such as community scouts, monitoring equipment, and limited electric fencing, along with educational programs to promote conservation. But many locals feel these efforts fall short.
Broken Trust, Hope for Change
The long-standing friction between the local communities and park authorities is rooted in years of broken promises and lack of meaningful engagement.
Kajura believes that the solution lies in dialogue and fairness. “There is a need to change the mindset and teach people about conservation and government programs in a way that isn’t defensive. Incentives should be provided, and historical injustices must be addressed,” he insists.
Locals also advocate for changes to policies like the Fisheries and Aquaculture Act, calling for better management of crocodile populations and revenue-sharing frameworks that prioritize displaced communities.
“We are not against conservation. We simply want our contributions and sacrifices to be recognized. Without meaningful engagement and fair compensation, it will take decades for communities to appreciate the value and benefits of conservation,” Kajura adds.
Ongoing Wildlife Conflict
In addition to the tension caused by conservation policies, the risk to human life is significant. Elephants regularly destroy crops in Nyakatonzi, Muhokya, Hima, and Busunga, while lions have been known to attack livestock.
Local communities report regular casualties, with some individuals sustaining serious injuries or even fatalities due to wildlife attacks.
In August 2024, Shafi Muhammud was killed by a hippopotamus in Hamukungu fishing village. Just a year earlier, Joseph Irumba was severely injured by a hippo while fetching water from Lake George.
According to local leaders in Lake Katwe Sub-county, an average of 10 people are killed or injured each month by wildlife, particularly hippos, crocodiles, and elephants.
The increasing wildlife population in Queen Elizabeth National Park around Lake George and Edward has led to more conflicts and attacks on the local population.
The Uganda Wildlife Authority has long suggested relocating 11 human settlements, particularly fishing villages, within the park as a solution to the ongoing human-wildlife conflict. However, this proposal has been met with resistance from displaced communities.
Conclusion: A Call for Justice and Inclusion
As Uganda grapples with balancing conservation with community needs, the voices of those displaced by the creation of national parks cannot be overlooked.
For communities like the Basongora, living alongside wildlife is not a new concept—it is part of their heritage. What they seek is not charity but justice and inclusion in Uganda’s conservation future.
Without fair compensation, meaningful dialogue, and a more inclusive approach, the longstanding tension between conservation and community survival may continue to fester, hindering progress for both the people and the park.
