
By Innocent Kiiza
At Uganda’s Mpondwe-Lubiriha border with the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), timber trading is booming -but a significant portion of it bypasses the law. Smugglers, middlemen, and well-connected officials run a cross-border network that drains public revenue, weakens forest protections, and fuels illicit financial flows (IFFs) that escape national oversight.
The business thrives on disparities in tax policies, the availability of rare hardwoods, and weak enforcement of forestry laws. According to traders and watchdogs, the system is riddled with corruption, loopholes, and political protection that shields top players from accountability.
Booming Business, Fragile Ethics
In Kasindi, DRC, a major timber hub across from Uganda’s Kasese District, timber dealer Samuel Katembo operates with caution but profits handsomely. He sources hardwoods like mahogany from forests in North Kivu, including Virunga National Park’s Mahura forest—a biodiversity hotspot and one of the last remaining habitats for endangered African mahogany, a species listed under the Convention on international Trade in Endangered Species (CITES).
“These trees are worth a fortune,” Katembo explains. “And buyers from Uganda and beyond will pay top dollar for them. But there’s no easy way to move them legally across the border.”
Uganda’s timber taxation structure plays a critical role in shaping the illegal nature of the trade. “In the DRC, you pay a flat tax—$2,000 per truck, regardless of quantity,” Katembo says. “In Uganda, URA taxes by size, called ‘rings.’ Ring 1 logs cost UGX 19,500 per log, and Ring 2 costs UGX 24,000. It’s much more expensive.”

With formal entry points imposing higher taxes, traders turn to alternative routes—by boat across Lake Albert, through the forests of Bundibugyo, or along the Lubiriha River. These crossings are unofficial, risky, and often controlled by armed militias.
“If you bypass them without paying, they’ll steal your timber, seize your truck, or worse,” Katembo warns. “Sometimes middlemen claim militias stole the load, but it’s often just a cover for theft or delays.”
A Ugandan smuggler,who wished to remain anonymous, recalls losing nearly $8,000 when a Congolese associate failed to deliver. “I had to go into Congo myself, track the guy down, and fix his broken truck to salvage my consignment. I then paid mechanics from Uganda and added my timber to an official load to get it through,” he recounts.

No Paper Trail, Just Voice Notes
Deals are rarely formalized. “No contracts. Just voice notes on WhatsApp,” Kakule says. “You send the money and hope the timber shows up.”
Traders and smugglers depend heavily on political protection. “You need someone in uniform or high office—what we call a godfather,” Kakule says. “Without one, your truck gets stopped every few kilometers.”These godfathers often senior officials in the security forces or government—offer informal immunity in exchange for a share of the profits.
“The real bosses don’t live here,” says Katembo. “They’re in Rwanda, Kenya, or Tanzania, and they coordinate everything by phone.”
A System Bleeding Revenue
The financial cost to Uganda is immense. Edwin Mumbere, Director of the Centre for Citizens Conserving Environment and Management (CECIC), estimates that Uganda loses UGX 23 billion (approx. USD 6.2 million) annually in unpaid timber taxes.
“Smuggling is rampant,” he says. “When timber in Kampala is cheaper than in Kasese, it’s clear someone didn’t pay taxes. Trucks enter Uganda daily, but not all pass through the official checks.”
Most traders have no operating licenses. “All you need is a URA receipt at the border. Unless you’re cutting timber within Uganda, no one asks for a license,” Katembo notes. Even that receipt, he adds, can be manipulated or purchased from corrupt border officials.
The lack of regulation around timber trade allows substantial sums of money to flow undetected across borders. Payments are often made via mobile money or cash, making them difficult to trace.
“These transactions aren’t recorded in the formal banking system,” says Milton Tenywa, an officer at COMESA. “This contributes directly to illicit financial flows—money that should be taxed and regulated disappears into private hands.”

Interpol estimates that illegal logging generates between $50 billion and $150 billion globally each year, placing it among the world’s largest transnational crimes, alongside counterfeiting and drug trafficking. In tropical countries like DRC and Uganda, up to 90% of timber may come from illegal sources.
Regulatory Gaps and Outdated Laws
Uganda’s legal framework struggles to keep up. While the National Forestry and Tree Planting Act (2003) and the National Environment Act (2019) offer protections, they focus mainly on domestic logging. There is limited oversight for imports, no clear traceability system, and little enforcement capacity at remote border points.
“Our laws don’t address where imported timber comes from,” Mumbere explains. “There’s no requirement to prove origin, which makes it easy to launder illegal timber into the formal economy.”
Moreover, tax rates vary inconsistently between border posts. “At Mpondwe, I pay UGX 24,000 per log,” says Katembo. “But in Lira, another trader cleared the same logs at UGX 17,000. It’s not standardized, and that opens the door for corruption.”
Weak Enforcement and Policy Failure
Tenywa admits URA has limited capacity. “We can’t inspect everything. We rely on documents at border posts, but smugglers don’t use those. They use boats, footpaths, and militias.”
He advocates for mandatory licenses for all timber traders and greater investment in surveillance. “We should adopt AI to monitor large mobile money transfers used for these deals. That way, we can trace and flag suspicious financial patterns.”
A Global Crime With Local Consequences
Illegal logging has catastrophic environmental consequences. Uganda’s forest cover has shrunk from 24% in 1990 to just 12.4% today. Deforestation affects biodiversity, worsens climate change, and undermines livelihoods for rural and indigenous communities.
A 2014 study found that more than 80% of timber sold in Ugandan markets is of illegal origin. With urban construction driving demand, timber needs are projected to rise to 1.7 million cubic meters by 2030. Without reform, supply may increasingly come from unsustainable and illegal sources.

Meanwhile, Uganda imports approximately 9,000 cubic metres of high-value timber each year, primarily from the DRC. “We don’t have systems to regulate or verify how it enters,” says Mumbere. “That’s a policy failure.”
Mumbere believes Uganda can learn from countries like the Philippines, where PD 705 mandates strict tracking of timber from source to market. “You need to know where every log came from, not just how it got into Uganda,” he says.
CECIC is advocating for the introduction of digital traceability systems, improved coordination between agencies, and enhanced regional cooperation. “Right now, the priority is revenue collection, not forest conservation or crime prevention,” he adds.
Beyond better laws, enforcement must be depoliticised. “Too many powerful people benefit from this system,” Mumbere warns. “Until we tackle the top of the chain, we’ll keep blaming poor villagers and small boat operators while the real traffickers get away.”
Uganda finds itself at a tipping point. As forest loss accelerates and IFFs deplete public coffers, the need for comprehensive reform is pressing.
Illegal timber trade is not just an environmental issue it’s a financial and governance crisis.
“We have the laws,” says Mumbere. “What we lack is political will, enforcement, and a system that cares where our trees and our money are going.”
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