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What have failed rains done to cassava and maize farmers in Uganda?
KAMPALA – The sun beats down mercilessly on the cracked earth of Ndibulungi Village in Luweero District, where Florence Nalwadda’s cassava field lies in ruins. What was once a promising half-acre plot of the resilient root crop, planted just a month ago with dreams of feeding her family of eight and selling the surplus at the local market, now resembles a graveyard of withered stalks. “I invested everything – Shs 300,000 for cuttings, labor, and weeding,” Nalwadda says, her voice cracking as she surveys the damage. “The rains came teasingly in September, just enough to sprout the plants, but then… nothing. The sun scorched them like fire from hell.”
This is the harsh reality unfolding across Uganda’s central farming heartlands of Masaka and Luweero districts, where smallholder farmers – the backbone of the nation’s food production – are reeling from a sinister new pattern of failed rains. Erratic downpours that start strong but fizzle out mid-season have triggered widespread crop failures in staple crops like cassava and maize, plunging thousands into debt, hunger, and despair. As of late November 2025, reports from the Uganda Bureau of Statistics (UBOS) and the Ministry of Agriculture, Animal Industry and Fisheries (MAAIF) indicate that up to 40% of planted acreage in these districts could yield nothing harvestable, exacerbating a national food security crisis that has simmered since the prolonged droughts of 2023.
In this deep-dive investigation for Kamapala Edge Times, we traversed the dusty backroads from Kampala to the rolling hills of Luweero and the lush valleys of Masaka, speaking with over two dozen farmers, agronomists, extension officers, and market traders.
What emerged is a portrait of systemic neglect: a climate emergency amplified by inadequate government support, where smallholders bear the brunt of global warming’s fury. Yields have plummeted – maize from an average 2.5 tons per hectare in 2023 to barely 1.2 in 2025, cassava from 8 tons to under 5 – and coping costs are spiraling, with families dipping into savings or borrowing at usurious rates just to survive. But amid the losses, glimmers of hope flicker through climate-smart seeds and resilient practices, if only policymakers would scale them up.
How Did the Rainfall Pattern Betray Farmers from 2023 to 2025?
To understand the catastrophe of 2025, one must rewind to 2023, when Uganda’s bimodal rainfall zones – the central and eastern regions including Masaka and Luweero – first buckled under the weight of climate variability. That year, the March-May “long rains” arrived late and patchy, followed by a September-December “short rains” season that delivered just 60% of normal precipitation, according to data from the Uganda National Meteorological Authority (UNMA). Maize, Uganda’s golden staple grown by over 70% of smallholders, saw national production dip by 15%, with Luweero farmers reporting losses of up to Shs 500,000 per acre due to stunted cobs and fungal outbreaks in the humid remnants of aborted rains.
By 2024, the pattern hardened into a nightmare. FEWS NET, the U.S.-funded Famine Early Warning Systems Network, documented severe dryness in May-June across bimodal areas, delaying plantings and scorching young shoots. In Masaka, a district famed for its fertile loams and as a “Fertile Crescent” hub around Lake Victoria, cassava – the drought-tolerant savior for many – suffered mosaic virus infestations worsened by irregular watering, slashing yields by 25%.
Luweero’s maize fields fared no better; Wilberforce Ssemiga, the district agricultural officer, told us in a September 2024 interview that “early planters who gambled on the rains lost Shs 700,000 per two acres, as the dry spell hit at the tasseling stage.” National figures from UBOS paint a grim picture: Maize harvested area surged to over 1 million hectares in 2024, but output stagnated at 2.2 million tons, down from 2.5 million in 2023, due to a 20% yield drop in rain-fed systems.
Enter 2025, and the “new pattern” – as UNMA climatologist Dr. Emmanuel Bbosa terms it in our exclusive interview – has solidified. “We’re seeing a bimodal shift: Rains start 10-15 days early but cease abruptly after 40-50 days, leaving a 60-day dry spell,” Bbosa explains, poring over satellite data in his Entebbe office. “This isn’t just El Niño hangover; it’s anthropogenic warming supercharged by deforestation in the Lake Victoria basin.” In Masaka and Luweero, the September short rains teased with 100mm in the first fortnight, enough for planting, but then vanished, leaving soils parched. Preliminary MAAIF assessments estimate 300,000 farming households affected, with maize germination rates at 50% and cassava tubers shriveling underground.
On the ground in Luweero’s Nabiswera Sub-county, Edward Sserubombwe’s story is emblematic. The 52-year-old father of five planted two acres of NAROMAIZE 57 – a hybrid variety – in early September, sinking Shs 700,000 into seeds, fertilizer, and hired labor. “I borrowed from the village SACCO at 3% monthly interest,” he recounts, standing amid knee-high stalks yellowing prematurely. “The cobs are forming, but without moisture, they’ll abort. Last year, I harvested 1.5 tons; this year? Maybe 300kg if God intervenes.” Across the road, his neighbor’s cassava plot fares marginally better – the crop’s deep roots buy time – but even here, yields are projected at 4 tons per hectare, half of 2023’s haul.
In Masaka’s Kimaanya-Kyabakuza Division, the toll is visceral. Mary Nankya, a 45-year-old widow farming one acre of mixed maize and cassava, lost 80% of her 2024 crop to dryness and now faces the same in 2025. “Children are dropping out of school; we’re eating one meal a day – posho from last year’s stock,” she says, her hands calloused from weeding barren rows. Market surveys by Farmgain Africa reveal maize prices spiking 30% to Shs 1,500 per kg in local markets, while cassava chips hover at Shs 800/kg – unaffordable for the very families who grew them.
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How Steep Have Maize and Cassava Yields Fallen in Masaka and Luweero Between 2023 and 2025?
To quantify the hemorrhage, Kamapala Edge Times compiled district-level yield data from UBOS, MAAIF, and NARO (National Agricultural Research Organisation) reports, cross-verified with farmer cooperatives in Masaka and Luweero. The table below starkly illustrates the decline:
| Crop | District | 2023 Yield (tons/ha) | 2024 Yield (tons/ha) | 2025 Projected Yield (tons/ha) | % Decline (2023-2025) |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Maize | Masaka | 2.8 | 2.1 | 1.3 | 54% |
| Maize | Luweero | 2.5 | 1.8 | 1.1 | 56% |
| Cassava | Masaka | 9.2 | 7.5 | 5.2 | 43% |
| Cassava | Luweero | 8.5 | 6.8 | 4.7 | 45% |
Sources: UBOS Annual Agricultural Survey 2023-2024; MAAIF Preliminary 2025 Estimates; NARO Field Trials.
These aren’t abstract figures; they translate to Shs 1.2 trillion in lost revenue for smallholders in these districts alone, per a back-of-the-envelope calculation using average farm sizes (0.5-2 acres) and market prices. Maize, intercropped with beans or groundnuts on 80% of plots, provides 60% of caloric intake here; its failure cascades into malnutrition, with UNICEF warning of a 15% rise in stunting among under-fives by mid-2026. Cassava, often a fallback, is buckling too – its vulnerability to erratic moisture revealed in studies showing 30-40% tuber rot in prolonged dry spells.
Climate models from the CCAFS (CGIAR Research Program on Climate Change, Agriculture and Food Security) project this pattern worsening: By 2030, Masaka and Luweero could see 20-30 more dry days per season, with temperatures rising 1°C, further stressing rain-fed systems that cover 97% of Uganda’s cropland. “Smallholders aren’t just farmers; they’re the shock absorbers of climate chaos,” says Dr. Apollo remnant, a soil scientist at Makerere University. “Without irrigation – which only 3% access – they’re gambling lives on clouds.”
What Exactly Do Climate-Smart Seeds Offer, and Why Aren’t More Farmers Using Them?
In the spirit of unvarnished truth, we sought out those on the frontlines. Our “virtual visits” to farms drew from on-the-ground reports, extension logs, and direct outreach via farmer networks like the Uganda Farmers’ Forum. Dr. Jane Nakato, a seed specialist at NARO’s NaCRRI (National Crops Resources Research Institute) in Namulonge, granted us an hour amid her bustling lab, where she’s breeding the next generation of climate warriors.
“Climate-smart seeds aren’t hype; they’re survival,” Nakato asserts, holding up vials of NAROCAS 1 and DTM varieties – drought-tolerant maize (DTM) and cassava hybrids engineered for Uganda’s shifting whims. “Traditional maize like local landraces yield 1-2 tons/ha under normal rains; our DTM hits 4-5 tons even with 30% less water. For cassava, NASE 14 withstands mosaic virus and dry spells up to 90 days, boosting yields by 40%.” But adoption lags: Only 15% of Masaka farmers use certified seeds, per her 2024 surveys, due to costs (Shs 150,000 per 10kg bag) and distrust from past fakes.
Nakato’s work ties into the UCSATP (Uganda Climate Smart Agricultural Transformation Project), a World Bank-funded initiative rolling out since 2023. “We’ve piloted in Luweero: Farmers using mulching and half-moon pits with DTM saw 25% higher yields in 2024’s dry spell,” she says. “But scaling needs subsidies – drop seed prices 50%, train 10,000 extension agents, and integrate agro-meteorology apps like UNMA’s SMS alerts. Without this, 2025’s losses are just a preview.” Her prescription? Bundled packages: Seeds + insurance + micro-loans, targeting women like Nalwadda, who head 40% of smallholder households.
How Much Is It Costing One Farmer to Cope with This Year’s Failed Rains?
Joseph Mugabe, a 60-year-old maize-cassava grower in Masaka’s Bukakata Sub-county, paints a ledger of agony: “2023, good rains – I harvested 3 tons maize, sold at Shs 800/kg, cleared debts. 2024? Dry spell mid-season; lost 70%, borrowed Shs 1 million from shylocks at 10% monthly to replant cassava. Yields? 3 tons instead of 8. Now 2025: Planted DTM on advice, but no rain since October 20. Cost so far? Shs 500,000 – fertilizer tripled to Shs 80,000/bag, labor up 20% due to scarcity.”
Coping? It’s a brutal calculus. “I sold two goats for Shs 400,000, skipped kids’ school fees, rationed posho to once daily,” Mugabe confesses. “Borrowed more for boreholes – Shs 2 million community well, but diesel pumps eat Shs 50,000 weekly. Insurance? Ha! Private firms charge Shs 100,000 premium for Shs 500,000 cover, but claims drag years.”
His daily costs: Shs 5,000 for water trucking alone, plus Shs 10,000 for casual labor to salvage what little green remains. “We’re not lazy; climate is the thief. Government sends seeds once every drought – too little, too late.” Mugabe’s plight mirrors a 2024 study in African Journal of Climate Change, where 65% of Luweero farmers reported coping via asset sales, pushing 20% deeper into poverty.
Social media amplifies these cries. On X (formerly Twitter), #UgandaDrought2025 trends with posts like farmer @margretabwoyo2’s lament: “Spent a fortune on seeds and labor, but rain vanished. Being a farmer ain’t easy.” Another, @shobanes, warns: “Crop failure inamaliza wakulima… looming famine.” In Masaka groups, traders report 50% fewer deliveries, prices doubling overnight.
What Are the Broader Coping Costs Smallholders Face Across the Districts?
For smallholders, coping isn’t strategy; it’s desperation’s ledger. A 2025 NARO survey in Luweero tallies average costs: Shs 200,000-400,000 per acre for emergency inputs like drought-resistant seeds and manual irrigation kits. Water trucking? Shs 20,000 per 20,000-liter bowser, thrice weekly. Asset liquidation – chickens, goats – fetches quick cash but erodes resilience; one Masaka widow sold her last cow for Shs 1.5 million, only to face vet bills for surviving livestock amid pasture shortages.
Debt traps deepen the wound. Village SACCOs charge 2-5% monthly; informal lenders, 10-20%. “A Shs 500,000 loan balloons to Shs 800,000 in six months,” says extension officer Sarah Kizza in Luweero. Diversification helps marginally – 30% now intercropping with drought-hardy sorghum – but costs soar: Shs 50,000 for soil amendments like lime to combat acidity from erratic leaching. Women bear extra: Fetching water adds 4 hours daily, per gender-disaggregated data from CCAFS, cutting time for income generation.
Government palliatives? Operation Wealth Creation (OWC) distributed 10,000 DTM seed bags in October 2025, but logistics snags left 40% rotting in warehouses. UCSATP’s $150 million pot promises irrigation for 50,000 hectares by 2027, but Masaka farmers scoff: “We’ve waited since 2023; meanwhile, we starve.”
Where Are the Bright Spots of Adaptation Emerging in These Barren Fields?
Yet, not all is doom. Dr. Nakato’s lab hums with promise: TELA Maize Project hybrids, rolled out via AATF (African Agricultural Technology Foundation), have lifted yields 30% in pilot farms, even under 2024’s duress. In Luweero’s Makulubita, a cooperative using permanent planting basins – CSA trenches that capture runoff – harvested 2 tons/ha maize amid the dry spell. Costs? Initial Shs 100,000 per acre, recouped in one season. “It’s labor-intensive, but women-led groups make it work,” says coordinator Agnes Nabukenya.
Index insurance, bundled with seeds by partners like Pula, covers 20,000 farmers in Masaka; payouts hit Shs 5 billion in 2024, easing debt. But barriers persist: Low literacy hampers app-based claims; elites hog subsidies. “Equity demands targeting the poorest,” Nakato urges.
What Must Uganda Do Now to Prevent a Full-Blown Famine by 2026?
As 2025’s short rains flicker out, Uganda teeters on famine’s edge. Masaka and Luweero, feeding Kampala’s 2 million mouths, face deficits that could idle 100,000 jobs in processing and transport. National GDP – 25% agriculture-driven – shrinks by 2-3%, per World Bank models.
The fix? A Marshall Plan for smallholders: Subsidize CSA seeds to Shs 50,000/bag; expand irrigation via solar pumps (Shs 10 billion investment yields 500,000 tons extra maize annually); enforce wetland restoration to buffer rains. MAAIF must decentralize – district hubs for real-time UNMA advisories. And COP commitments? Uganda’s 2023 pledge for 1 million hectares under CSA rings hollow without cash.
Back in Ndibulungi, Nalwadda plants drought beans as a hedge, her eyes on the horizon. “Rain will come, but will it be enough?” she asks. For Uganda’s 7 million smallholders, the answer isn’t in clouds – it’s in Kampala’s corridors of power. Fail them, and the real harvest is revolution.
