Oil, Land, and Climate Justice: The Hidden Cost of Development in Uganda’s Albertine Graben

By Doreen Asasira

BULISA, Uganda MARCH 27 [SHIFTMEDIA]  Uganda stands at a defining moment in its development journey. The discovery of commercially viable oil reserves in the Albertine Graben has been widely celebrated as a gateway to economic transformation, promising increased revenue, infrastructure growth, and job creation. Yet beneath this promise lies a deeper and more urgent question: what is the true cost of oil development to communities, ecosystems, and the country’s climate future?

As the Tilenga Project advances across the districts of Buliisa District, Hoima District, and Kikuube District, it is becoming increasingly clear that Uganda must confront the delicate balance between resource extraction, climate responsibility, and the rights of local communities.

Recent findings from a Social Performance Advisory report on the project’s resettlement programme reveal a complex story of land acquisition, displacement, and livelihood disruption—one that demands serious national reflection on Uganda’s natural resource governance.

Operated by TotalEnergies, the Tilenga project is a cornerstone of Uganda’s oil strategy. It involves drilling hundreds of wells across six oil fields and constructing extensive infrastructure, including pipelines, roads, and processing facilities. According to the report, approximately 2,108 acres of land have been acquired, directly affecting 4,954 people whose homes, farms, and livelihoods were tied to that land.

These figures are more than statistics. They represent farming families who relied on fertile soils for food production, households dependent on small-scale agriculture and grazing, and communities whose cultural and social ties to land stretch back generations. When land is converted into industrial infrastructure, what is lost is not only a physical asset, but also a sense of identity, security, and resilience.

The report indicates that most project-affected persons have signed compensation agreements and that replacement housing and livelihood restoration programmes have been implemented. On paper, these measures align with international benchmarks such as the International Finance Corporation Performance Standard 5 on land acquisition and involuntary resettlement. However, procedural compliance should not be mistaken for justice.

Oil projects often measure success through completed compensation payments and resolved grievances. In the Tilenga case, over 98 percent of complaints are reported as settled through formal mechanisms. Yet such statistics rarely capture the lived realities of affected communities. Many grievances persist around land valuation, delayed compensation, and unresolved disputes escalated to government authorities.

Beyond the social dimension, the environmental implications are equally profound. The Albertine Graben is one of Africa’s most biodiverse regions, home to fragile ecosystems, critical wildlife habitats, wetlands, and Lake Albert. Expanding oil infrastructure in such an ecologically sensitive area poses long-term risks, including habitat fragmentation, pollution, and pressure on water resources.

At the same time, the world is entering a decisive decade in the fight against climate change. Scientific consensus increasingly warns that new fossil fuel developments are incompatible with efforts to limit global warming to 1.5°C. This raises an uncomfortable but necessary question for Uganda: should the country anchor its economic future on oil at a time when the global economy is shifting away from fossil fuels?

Proponents argue that Uganda has every right to utilise its natural resources for development and poverty reduction. That argument is valid. However, the real issue is not whether development should occur, but how it is pursued, who benefits, and at what environmental cost.

Uganda’s oil sector must therefore be held to the highest standards of transparency, environmental protection, and community accountability. Development should not merely compensate communities after displacement; it must prioritise avoiding displacement altogether and ensuring long-term livelihood security.

Equally critical is the protection of ecosystems that provide essential services, from water regulation to biodiversity conservation. Damage to these systems could undermine agriculture, fisheries, and climate resilience for generations.

There is also a need for a broader national conversation about Uganda’s energy future. Oil revenues, if realised, should be strategically invested in renewable energy, climate-resilient agriculture, environmental restoration, and green infrastructure. Without such foresight, Uganda risks falling into resource dependency while missing opportunities in a low-carbon economy.

The Tilenga resettlement programme may soon close, but closing files does not resolve the deeper moral and environmental questions. The decisions made today in the Albertine Graben will shape not only the lives of affected communities but also Uganda’s ecological and climate legacy.

Oil may promise prosperity, but prosperity built on fragile ecosystems and vulnerable communities is inherently unstable. True progress will not be measured by barrels produced, but by whether Uganda can achieve development without sacrificing the land, people, and environment that sustain its future.

The author is an Enviornmentalist