On the surface, Uganda’s events industry still appears vibrant and thriving.
Every weekend, social media is filled with posters advertising concerts, comedy shows, marathons, tourism festivals and lifestyle experiences. Venues fill up, artists perform and thousands of Ugandans gather in celebration.
To the ordinary attendee, everything seems normal.
But beneath the bright lights and loud music, a troubling reality is emerging. The people responsible for creating these experiences are increasingly questioning whether the business is still worth pursuing.
This is no longer an isolated complaint from a few struggling organisers. It is a wider industry conversation cutting across television personalities, comedians, tourism entrepreneurs and event federation leaders, all pointing to a growing problem: Uganda’s events industry is becoming financially unsustainable.
The warning signs are increasingly visible. Several organisers have scaled back ambitions, reduced the number of events they host or exited the business entirely. Others remain active but speak openly about the financial and emotional toll of the work.
Perhaps the most striking testimony comes from NBS Television’s After 5 host and Purple Party founder Douglas Lwanga, whose regional party brand once transformed cities such as Kampala, Mbale and Gulu into major entertainment hubs.
His account is not one of glamour but of mounting pressure, heavy financial exposure and emotional strain.
Lwanga explains that before an event even begins, organisers must commit large sums to stage construction, sound systems, lighting equipment, logistics and venue preparation, with most service providers demanding upfront payment.
“If you’re considering stage, sound, lights, and such, you have to start from 50 million, 60 million, up to 100 million. Without that, no one is going to give you those machines, those equipment,” he said.
He noted that the economics are unforgiving. An organiser charging Shs20,000 per ticket may need about 10,000 attendees just to break even, before making any profit.
He also revealed that many experienced organisers are quietly stepping away from event production altogether due to mounting pressure and risk.
The strain eventually forced him to pause organising events, prioritising his mental health after years of navigating an unpredictable industry.
One of his most difficult experiences came during an event in Mbale after investing Shs120 million, only for heavy rains to disrupt activities for most of the day.
The pressure became so overwhelming that he was admitted to hospital yet still attempted to supervise the event while receiving treatment.
“The event business nearly killed me,” he said.
His experience reflects a hidden reality in Uganda’s entertainment economy. Behind every successful event are months of planning, massive financial commitments and personal sacrifice that audiences rarely see.
A single poorly attended event or weather disruption can wipe out months of work and millions of shillings overnight.
Comedian Patrick Idringi Salvador paints a similar picture from Uganda’s comedy industry.
Through Africa Laughs, he has built one of the country’s biggest comedy experiences, attracting local and international performers. Yet behind the success lies a costly operation requiring substantial investment before a single ticket is sold.
According to him, venue hire, production, décor, artists, flights, accommodation, advertising, permits and staff welfare can push total costs to between Shs250 million and Shs300 million. This leaves organisers heavily dependent on sponsorship and turnout simply to recover investments.
“If you charge 100,000, that’s about 2,500 to 3,000 people or you sell about 100 tables at 3 million to break even, so you are at the mercy of sponsors and turn up, both of which usually don’t yield the numbers.”
His conclusion captures the imbalance clearly.
“Everyone else gets paid 100% except the organiser. Basically we work for service providers.”
The statement reflects a reality many organisers recognise: artists are paid, hotels are paid, production companies, caterers, advertisers and security firms all receive guaranteed income regardless of outcome.
If the event fails, it is the organiser who absorbs the loss.
Tourism entrepreneur Amos Wekesa says the same pressures extend beyond concerts and comedy shows into large tourism and sporting events.
Drawing from his experience organising the Rwenzori Marathon, he notes that many people underestimate the scale of risk involved in building successful large-scale experiences.
He says sporting and tourism events may attract international attention and boost Uganda’s visibility, but organisers remain exposed to significant financial and emotional strain.
“Seen that with Rwenzori Marathon, everyone in the line gets a 100%, you the organizer walk home and sometimes ask yourself but why am I doing this?”
For him, the contradiction is clear: nearly everyone involved in execution receives guaranteed payment, while organisers carry the uncertainty.
Structural challenge
For Demo Riley, president of the National Tourism Event Organisers Federation and organiser of the Vumbula Uganda Festival, the challenges are no longer individual but structural.
Speaking on UBC, he highlighted three major pressures: limited access to affordable financing, expensive security deployment and an 18 percent VAT charged on tickets.
“Our major challenges are high costs of security deployment, limited access to affordable financing and 18% VAT on every ticket, and we request for government intervention,” he said.
He added that organisers often rely on high-interest loans from money lenders due to delayed payments from sponsors and corporate partners.
“Many times we are forced to go and borrow gate loans from money lenders with high interest rates who end up throwing us in prisons because we need cash flow to execute the events, and yet we are dealing with company LPOs that are paid three or four months after the event.”
Security costs, he said, have also become increasingly prohibitive, with some events spending tens of millions of shillings on deployment alone.
These pressures are already reshaping the industry landscape. Uganda’s events calendar is visibly thinning, with several once-popular festivals either disappearing or significantly scaling down.
The Rolex Festival, once a vibrant celebration of Uganda’s street food culture, has faded from its earlier prominence. Other independent festivals have followed a similar trajectory, disappearing quietly rather than collapsing publicly.
Even the Nyege Nyege International Music Festival, one of East Africa’s most globally recognised cultural exports, illustrates the industry’s contradictions. While it continues to attract thousands of international visitors and generate tourism revenue, it has often faced political and moral scrutiny at home, creating recurring uncertainty for organisers.
This tension raises a broader question about whether Uganda is fully embracing or unintentionally constraining its own cultural economy.
Uganda’s events industry sits at the intersection of culture, tourism and commerce. It generates employment, supports small businesses and strengthens national branding in ways few sectors can match.
Hotels, restaurants, transport operators, photographers, vendors, security companies and content creators all benefit from the ecosystem created around events.
Yet it remains one of the riskiest sectors to operate in.
Organisers absorb financial exposure long before a ticket is sold. They face unpredictable turnout, weather disruptions, delayed sponsorship payments and rising operational costs. At the same time, audiences have more entertainment choices than ever, while disposable incomes continue to tighten.
The experiences of Douglas Lwanga, Patrick Idringi Salvador, Amos Wekesa and Demo Riley point to a deeper structural question facing the industry: how long can Uganda’s events economy remain viable without reforms that balance risk, reward and sustainability?