Not long ago, I was in a barbershop in Ntinda—one of those spots where people come for a trim and stay for the philosophy. The barber was deep into a debate with two clients.
One said, “At my age, I must build. Renting is like pouring water into a basket—money just goes and nothing stays.”
The other man shook his head and said, “Eh, me I’m renting, but my money is working. While you’re chasing cement, I’m chasing profit.”
And just like that, I knew this week’s conversation had arrived.
This question—whether to build your own house or continue renting and invest the money elsewhere—is one that sneaks into nearly every Ugandan household at some point.
It whispers through lunchtime conversations and loudly interrupts family gatherings.
One person is putting up a house in Najjera brick by brick, another is renting in Bukoto and running a thriving mobile money shop, and both are convinced they’ve made the smarter choice.
Let’s imagine Joseph. He’s 32, earns about 2.5 million a month, and has 60 million saved up—quite the feat in this Kampala economy.
He’s renting a two-bedroom apartment in Naalya for 800k, but he owns a 50x100 plot in Namanve.
Now he’s feeling the pressure to “build before he’s 35,” because apparently roofs have expiry dates on birthdays.
If Joseph goes all in, he’ll spend everything he has to build a simple two-bedroom house. And if you’ve ever tried to build in Uganda, you know there’s no such thing as “simple.”
There’s always a cousin who needs extra cement, a foreman who swears the prices of iron sheets just tripled, and don’t even get me started on roofing.
Joseph will pour his soul and shillings into that house for at least two years—and during that time, he’s broke. No investment, no emergency fund, just bricks, sand, and dreams.
Now flip the story. Same Joseph, same 60 million, but instead of building, he decides to continue renting while investing his money into a poultry project in Gayaza.
He also invests five million into a money lending side business with a SACCO. Suddenly, his poultry is pulling in 1.5 million a month, and his money lending brings an extra 400k.
His income jumps to nearly 4.4 million a month. Rent? Covered. Lifestyle? Elevated. Future? Flexible.
That’s the power of capital in motion.
But let’s not dismiss building just yet. There’s something sacred about having a place you call your own. No landlord breathing down your neck because your kids play too loudly.
No surprise rent increase. No more painting a house you don’t own every December. For many Ugandans, building is not just financial—it's emotional. It's freedom.
It’s walking through a gate you installed and sleeping in a room whose ceiling you chose. It’s the kind of pride that can’t be measured in numbers.
There’s also the security that comes with it. If you lose your job or your business takes a hit, at least you’re not wondering whether your landlord will evict you at the end of the month. You eat your posho in peace—under your own roof.
But—and this is a big one—building requires timing. If you go in too early, when your income isn’t strong or stable, you could end up stuck halfway.
You’ve probably seen it—someone moves into their “dream home” with cement floors, no windows, and a door they lock with a string.
They’re stressed, broke, and bitter at visitors. That’s not owning a home—that’s surviving in a construction site.
On the other hand, renting has its unfair stigma in our society. We act like renting is failure, a shameful pit stop on the road to adulthood. But renting can be incredibly strategic.
When your capital is free, it can grow. You can take risks. You can start that cleaning company, buy that salon, stock that shop.
A rented house is only a problem if it’s your final stop with no plan. But if you're renting while your money is busy building income? My friend, that’s not weakness—that’s wisdom.
I know a woman called Mariam. She rents a modest apartment in Bukoto for 600k. But with her 30 million in savings, she started a mobile money and airtime agency in Wandegeya. She nets about 900k a month in profit.
That’s enough to cover rent and still save. She’s already looking at opening a second branch in Nakulabye. One day she’ll build—and when she does, she’ll do it with zero pressure, all in cash. That’s power.
Of course, some people choose to do both—build slowly while renting, using their active income or business profits to buy materials bit by bit. Bricks this month, cement next month, foundation in July, roofing next year.
They avoid loans. They maintain their lifestyle. Their money works while their house grows. It’s not flashy, but it’s smart.
The truth is, there’s no one-size-fits-all answer. Some people build and live happily ever after. Others rent and build businesses that change their lives.
What matters is your stage in life, your income flow, your responsibilities, and your long-term goals. If you're in your 20s or early 30s, hungry for growth, passionate about business, and still figuring things out, you might want to keep your capital liquid.
Rent. Invest. Grow. Then build later when your foundation—your financial one—is strong. But if you're stable, with consistent income, family responsibilities, and a clear location you want to settle in, building can be the anchor that gives you peace of mind.
One thing is clear though—whether you build or rent, do it with intention. Don't build because your clan expects it.
Don’t rent because it’s easy. Sit down, look at your numbers, look at your dreams, and ask: What gives me more power? What moves me forward?
Because at the end of the day, a house is just walls. A business is just capital. But a smart decision, made at the right time, with the right heart—that’s a legacy.
See you next week—hopefully still chasing returns, not just receipts.
Jonan Kandanwaho is the president of the Moneylenders Association of Uganda