KAMPALA – At the UMA Show Grounds in Lugogo last week, something quietly remarkable happened. Not a political rally. Not a concert. But a gathering of families, health workers, and curious passersby, drawn together by one urgent message: your health begins with you.
Over three days, August 1-3rd, Uganda hosted its first-ever Family and Health Expo, a groundbreaking event that aimed not just to treat illness but to prevent it, starting at the grassroots. Organized by Copius Health Services, in partnership with the Uganda Healthcare Federation and the Ministry of Health, the expo drew thousands of Ugandans with the promise of free screenings, open conversation, and a shift in how the country thinks about its wellbeing.
The theme was deceptively simple: #PreventionStartsWithMe. But behind it was a complex reality: Uganda’s health system is at a crossroads, grappling with reduced international funding and rising public health threats. In that context, this expo wasn’t just a public gathering. It was a national reckoning.
“We’ve gathered here to confront hard truths,” said Brian Bogere, Director of Copius Health Services, during the opening ceremony. “We can’t keep reacting to illness. We need a culture of prevention. That begins with partnership, government, private sector, and citizens standing side by side.”
Bogere’s words weren’t just rhetoric. Uganda’s preventive healthcare sector has long depended on foreign aid, now increasingly uncertain. With non-communicable diseases like cancer, diabetes, and sickle cell on the rise, there’s growing consensus that the country must shift its focus and funding to proactive care.
The central draw of the expo was free health screening. For many Ugandans, particularly those from rural areas, the chance to get tested for cancer or sickle cell disease or receive a vision exam without paying a single shilling was nothing short of transformative.
“I came 400 kilometers from Kasese,” said Sarah, a mother of three, her voice heavy with emotion. “We can’t afford these tests. I wanted to know if my children had sickle cell. Now I do. That changes everything.”
Less than 1 percent of Ugandans have ever been screened for sickle cell disease, according to Euniky Musimenta of the Uganda Sickle Cell Foundation. “This expo gives people not just results, but knowledge and power,” she said.
Sarah was just one of thousands who walked away not only with diagnoses but also with the information they needed to take the next step in managing their health. It was access that many say had been missing for far too long.
Young Voices, Big Messages
At the heart of the expo was a surprising force for change: youth.
A special Youth Platform turned education into celebration, mixing live music, storytelling, and interactive sessions. Health messages were no longer confined to pamphlets or waiting rooms; they were sung, danced, and debated.
17-year-old Mary Louissa became one of the breakout faces of the event, earning praise as the youngest participant in the #PreventionStartsWithMe Challenge. “Age is no barrier to making a difference,” Bogere said. For Mary, it was more than a competition. It was a declaration that her generation deserves to lead, not wait.
But not all was upbeat. Dr. John Paul Bagala, an obstetrician with the Ministry of Health, used the platform to address a sobering crisis: teenage pregnancy. “One in four Ugandan girls is affected,” he told the crowd. “It’s not just a health issue. It’s a national emergency.”
Bagala urged families to be the first line of prevention, talking to girls, educating boys, and creating homes where health and agency go hand in hand.
One of the expo’s most remarkable features was its ability to bring together players who rarely share a stage: government technocrats, private investors, community leaders, youth activists, and everyday citizens.
Luwaga Patrick, chair of the Uganda Healthcare Federation, captured the moment: “This isn’t just a health expo. It’s a declaration that we’re in this together.”
Real conversations took place, not speeches, but strategy. How can Uganda wean itself off foreign aid? How can private clinics serve rural areas? How can communities hold health workers accountable?
These weren’t easy questions. But the fact that they were being asked in the open was, itself, a shift.
As the sun set on August 3, Bogere stood on stage, visibly moved. “This is just the beginning,” he said. “But if today is any sign, Uganda is ready.”
Over 2,000 attendees had passed through the gates. Dozens of partnerships were born. Plans are now in motion to make the expo an annual event—with regional editions across Uganda.
But the real legacy will be less visible. It will live in homes where families now know how to sort medicine, check symptoms, or talk to their teens about sex. It will live in the choices made by young people like Mary Louissa. It will live in the determination of mothers like Sarah, who once had no access—and now have a voice.
