Kitubulu Forest: Entebbe’s Guardian, Not an Obstacle to Progress
By Fabrice Brad Rulinda
Mayor of Entebbe Municipality
There comes a time when a community must choose between what is easy and what is right. For the people of Entebbe, that moment of truth stands at the edge of Kitubulu Forest—a quiet, green heartbeat that has protected our town for generations.
To me, Kitubulu was never just a forest. It is the scent of clean air after rain, the gentle rustle announcing the lake breeze, the shade under which our town seems to breathe. Long before I knew the word “ecosystem,” I understood that when Kitubulu whispered, the whole of Entebbe listened. It gave us not just a beautiful view, but a natural rhythm, a breath that balanced our growth with an enduring calm.
Today, that same forest stands under a grave and unnecessary threat. This is not a matter of politics or personal ambition. It is a matter of truth, reason, and a profound love for our country. Kitubulu is not merely soil and trees; it is the living barrier that has steadfastly stood between the vast waters of Lake Victoria and the thousands of Ugandans who live, work, and raise their children along its shores.
With every rainy season, as the lake waters rise, it is Kitubulu that silently absorbs the force. This forest takes the blow so that our homes, roads, hospitals, and schools are not swallowed by floods. No concrete wall, no imported engineering design, could ever perform this task more faithfully than this natural, free, and selfless ecosystem.
And yet, this sacred, protective space is being eyed for destruction in the name of “investment.” Let me be unequivocal: Uganda welcomes investors, and Entebbe thrives because of them. But true investment must never be detrimental to the environment, to reason, or to the long-term national interest. Real progress is not measured by the number of buildings we erect, but by the wisdom with which we balance development with preservation.
The proposed hotel project by the Tian Tiang Group in Kitubulu is neither urgent nor necessary. Entebbe is not short of hotels. What we lack is balance and a fundamental respect for the natural systems that have safeguarded us for generations. As your Mayor, I witness daily how this forest silently guards our people. It is the reason children in Katabi and Nakiwogo can sleep safely when the lake swells. It is the reason our infrastructure holds and our environment thrives.
To destroy Kitubulu is to sign a death warrant for Entebbe’s ecological balance. We are not fighting development; we are fighting its distortion. We are not resisting progress; we are resisting the dangerous arrogance that equates destruction with modernity.
Uganda’s development story should never be one where we trade nature for concrete, or peace for profit. Across the world, nations are planting trees, restoring wetlands, and combatting climate change. Why should we, blessed with one of Africa’s greatest lakes, be the ones cutting down the very lungs that keep us alive?
Kitubulu is not an obstacle to progress; it is the very protector of our progress.
When the floods come, as they inevitably will in our changing climate, it will not be investors or their machines that stand between us and the rising waters. It will be Kitubulu.
And when history writes this chapter, may it never be forgotten that the people of Entebbe stood for their forest, and that we listened when the forest spoke.
