The interesting thing is that I earn my money in Uganda Shilling, spend it in Uganda Shilling, pay my employees in Uganda Shilling, and even when I borrow, the bank expects its money back in Uganda Shilling. So why should a currency printed thousands of kilometres away have so much authority over my financial affairs? And why does the dollar seem to remember us whenever it becomes stronger but conveniently forget us whenever it weakens?
There is a visitor in Uganda who has never knocked on my door, never attended my children's birthday parties, never contributed to a wedding, and certainly never sent me a Christmas gift. Yet somehow, this visitor has managed to influence what I pay for fuel, food, construction materials, transport and almost everything else. His name is the United States Dollar.
The interesting thing is that I earn my money in Uganda Shilling, spend it in Uganda Shilling, pay my employees in Uganda Shilling, and even when I borrow, the bank expects its money back in Uganda Shilling. So why should a currency printed thousands of kilometres away have so much authority over my financial affairs? And why does the dollar seem to remember us whenever it becomes stronger but conveniently forget us whenever it weakens?
Recently, conversations about the exchange rate have become increasingly common among businesspeople, importers and ordinary Ugandans. In early October, the shilling weakened to around Shs 4,100 per dollar at some commercial banks, compared with approximately Shs 3,730 on average in August. To an economist, these are exchange-rate movements.
To an ordinary Ugandan, they can mean something entirely different. Imagine a trader in downtown Kampala importing electronics worth $10,000. At Shs3,700 per dollar, he needs Shs37 million. At Shs4,000, he needs Shs40 million for exactly the same goods. Nothing has changed about the quantity, quality or supplier's price, yet he must find an additional Shs3 million. He hasn't employed another person, expanded his shop or even bought himself a decent lunch. But his business has become Shs3 million more expensive because two currencies have decided to quarrel.
What happens next? The trader either absorbs the additional cost, increases prices or borrows to cover the difference. If he raises the price of a phone from Shs500,000 to Shs550,000, the customer doesn't want to hear about exchange rates. The customer simply asks, "But last month it was cheaper!"
The trader tries explaining the dollar, and the customer looks at him as though he personally attended the meeting where the exchange rate was decided. Sometimes we blame businesspeople for increasing prices without appreciating the costs they are absorbing. Of course, not every price increase is justified, but many traders are simply trying to survive circumstances beyond their control.
And the dollar doesn't stop at the electronics shop. It follows us to the fuel station. Uganda imports refined petroleum products, largely traded internationally in dollars. When the dollar becomes more expensive, the shilling cost of importing fuel can rise even before considering changes in international oil prices, taxes and distribution costs.
The taxi operator travelling from Kampala to Mukono feels it. The boda-boda rider in Kireka feels it. The farmer transporting matooke from Mbarara feels it. Eventually, the mother buying matooke in Ntinda feels it too. She may never have visited a forex bureau, but the forex bureau has effectively visited her kitchen.
Even the matooke grown on Ugandan soil, using Ugandan rain and Ugandan sunshine, can arrive at our dining tables carrying costs influenced by foreign currencies. By the time the food reaches your plate, the dollar has already eaten. You are simply paying the bill.
Consider also a family in Wakiso that has spent seven years saving to build a modest home. They have bought land, completed the foundation and are finally ready to roof. Then prices of roofing materials, electrical fittings, tiles and plumbing accessories change.
Some suppliers attribute the increases to imported inputs and exchange rates. Suddenly, the money that was supposed to finish the house can only complete part of it. The family postpones moving in, the landlord continues collecting rent, and the children keep asking when they will finally sleep in "our house."
What appears as a small movement on a financial chart can become another six months of waiting for an ordinary family. This is where economics stops being a discussion for experts and becomes deeply personal. Behind every price increase is often a parent adjusting a budget, a businessperson postponing recruitment, a young couple delaying their dream home or a trader watching hard-earned profits disappear.
But we must also appreciate that a stronger dollar is not necessarily bad news for everyone. A Ugandan exporting coffee, fish or other products and receiving dollars may earn more shillings when converting the proceeds, provided production costs have not risen equally.
Families receiving remittances from relatives abroad may benefit, while tourism operators earning foreign currency may gain an advantage. The issue, therefore, is not simply whether the dollar is good or bad. It is about who benefits, who bears the cost and how prepared our businesses and households are for these movements.
Unfortunately, the exchange-rate market rarely sends a polite WhatsApp message saying, "Dear customer, please prepare yourself. We shall be increasing the dollar next Thursday."
This brings me to a more uncomfortable question. Why are we so dependent on goods and materials whose prices are influenced by foreign currencies? Uganda has enormous agricultural potential, a growing manufacturing sector and an energetic young population. Yet many businesses still depend heavily on imported machinery, fuel, equipment, raw materials and finished products.
In July 2026 alone, Uganda's merchandise import bill reached approximately $1.61 billion, an increase of about 25% compared with July 2025. Imports are not necessarily bad; they provide technology, productive machinery and essential goods.
However, the more we depend on imports for products we could competitively produce locally, the more vulnerable we become to exchange-rate movements. We need to invest more deliberately in local manufacturing, agro-processing, value addition and exports.
A farmer selling raw coffee earns one level of income, while a business processing, packaging and exporting coffee may capture significantly more value. This requires affordable financing, reliable infrastructure, quality standards and deliberate investment. We cannot spend every month praying that the dollar behaves itself.
There are also lessons for business owners and households. If your business imports goods, understand how exchange-rate movements affect your costs and profit margins. A quotation that was profitable at Shs3,700 may become loss-making at Shs4,100. Avoid borrowing in dollars when your income is entirely in Shilling unless you understand and can manage the currency risk.
For households, compare prices, plan expenditure and avoid unnecessary panic buying. We must also challenge businesses that use the dollar as an excuse for every price increase. Sometimes a trader bought stock three months ago at a lower exchange rate but increases prices immediately the dollar rises.
Interestingly, when the dollar falls, the same trader explains that he is still selling old stock. The dollar has enough problems of its own; we should not blame it for every questionable business decision.
Policymakers equally have a responsibility to maintain economic confidence, support productive investment and manage excessive currency volatility where appropriate. Businesses plan investments over months and years, not simply from one forex quotation to another.
A manufacturer expanding a factory, an entrepreneur importing machinery or a family building a home needs reasonable predictability. While Uganda cannot control international currency markets, sound economic policies, stronger exports, increased productivity and clear communication can help reduce unnecessary vulnerability.
Ultimately, I keep thinking about the ordinary Ugandan who wakes up every morning simply trying to earn a living. The father postponing completion of his house, the mother struggling with transport costs, the trader looking for an additional Shs3 million to clear imported goods, and the entrepreneur whose expected profit has been swallowed by exchange-rate movements.
These people are not asking to become foreign-exchange experts. They simply want to work, raise families, build businesses and create a better tomorrow. Yet whether they appreciate it or not, they are participating in a global economy whose movements can reach even the smallest household.
So, the next time you hear that the dollar has risen, don't simply ask how much it is trading for. Ask what it means for your business, your household and the decisions you are making. As a country, let us also ask how we can produce more competitively, export more value and reduce unnecessary dependence on imported products.
Because the real problem is not that the dollar has never visited my house. The problem is that it has somehow acquired the authority to increase my household bills without ever introducing itself to the family.
And frankly, if it insists on behaving like a member of my household, the least it could do is contribute something towards school fees.