“We will keep protesting until our demands are met. This project isn’t sustainable. The world is moving towards renewable energy, and Uganda should follow suit,” says Ibrahim Mpiima, team leader of Justice Movement Uganda, a student-led protest group of around a hundred members opposing the East African Crude Oil Pipeline Project (EACOP)—the world’s longest heated oil pipeline.

“We protest whenever we can. The only thing holding us back is money. But as soon as we raise enough, we make banners, buy disposable mobile phones, secure safe houses in case things go wrong—and then we go.” This local group is part of a broader movement, StopEACOP, a coalition of international NGOs that joined forces “for greater solidarity, visibility and funding,” explains the student from Kyambogo University in Kampala.

Despite all the precautions taken by Ibrahim Mpiima and around 30 of his fellow students, he was arrested at the demonstration on 19 March. Taken by force with three other activists to the capital’s high-security prison, he was beaten and tortured before ultimately being released on 3 April. In a story published on social media, Mpiima also accuses security agents of raping him during his detention.

Martha Amviko, an activist with Extinction Rebellion, was also at the protest. “We wanted to march to Parliament to hand in our petition demanding an end to the project. But no sooner had we unfurled our banners than the police appeared. I managed to escape, but not everyone was so lucky. Once they take you away in the police vans, you know you’re going to be badly beaten. The violence is systematic.”

Although protests began several years ago, over the past year around 100 people have been arrested and threatened with prosecution in Uganda for taking part in peaceful demonstrations against oil projects backed by the government.

The EACOP pipeline is expected to stretch approximately 1,400 kilometres, running from Murchison Falls National Park in Uganda to the port of Tanga in Tanzania. It will transport oil from 400 wells in the Tilenga and Kingfisher fields to the coast, where it can be exported to international markets. An estimated 246,000 barrels of oil are expected to flow through the pipeline each day over its projected 25-year operational lifespan.

Presented to the public as opportunities for development, these projects are backed by the governments of Uganda and Tanzania, along with oil giants TotalEnergies and China National Offshore Oil Corporation (CNOOC). Initially estimated at US$3.5 billion in 2020, costs have continued to climb. Both countries hope the pipeline will generate substantial revenue and create jobs, both during construction and for ongoing maintenance of the infrastructure.

In a country like Uganda, where per capita income is around US$1,000 per year, the government is banking on oil wealth to lift the nation out of poverty. “We believe this will serve as a catalyst for economic growth,” said Robert Kasande, an official at Uganda’s Ministry of Energy, during the signing ceremony in 2021.

The human cost of pipeline construction

On the ground, however, some residents are facing serious disruptions to their lives and livelihoods. One of them is Geoffrey Byakagaba, a 45-year-old farmer and father of eight, who was stripped of part of his land to make way for the project. “In 2017, Total took ownership of our land in the village. There were several types of compensation on offer. I chose the ‘land for land’ option. They took my land, but to this day, I haven’t been compensated,” he says.

Byakagaba still lives in Kasenyi, in Uganda’s Buliisa district, where the town is currently preparing to host a processing plant for the Tilenga project. He says his standard of living has dropped significantly. “Before the project, I used to grow cassava and sweet potatoes. We ate what we needed and sold the rest. I had 20 to 25 animals—cows and goats. Today, I’m down to just about ten, and my harvest barely feeds the family.”

Due to this loss of income, Byakagaba had to move his children to different schools. “They’re still in school, but in neighbourhoods we’re not happy with.” Since then, he has been surviving by doing odd jobs and selling what he catches fishing. Still, compared to other residents of Kasenyi, he considers himself fortunate. “Luckily, I didn’t live on the land I farmed, so I still have somewhere to stay. That’s not the case for everyone.” He adds: “And I didn’t accept their money. Total’s compensation would never have allowed me to buy land. They offered just 3.5 million shillings per hectare [around €850], but today, buying a hectare around here costs between 10 and 15 million [€2,500 to €3,500]. I would have been ruined. Some people were.”

Geoffrey Byakagaba is the fifth generation of his family to live on this land. For him, it holds far more than just market value.

“This is where I grew up. I inherited nine hectares from my parents, but now I have less than half of that left. If I were to die today, my children would be landless. I’m not just fighting for my rights, but also to leave something behind for my children.”

In April 2021, frustrated by the situation, he decided to file a land-grabbing lawsuit in the High Court of Masindi, seeking fair compensation from the developers of the EACOP project. As he told Equal Times, he was soon labelled a saboteur—not only by the project’s backers but also by the Ugandan authorities—for daring to protest and for speaking to Italian journalist Federica Marsi. Marsi was arrested shortly thereafter, along with Ugandan human rights defender Maxwell Atuhura.

As of 2025, according to Geoffroy Byakagaba, the situation remains unchanged and he is still waiting for compensation. He is not alone. Byakagaba is one of an estimated 118,000 people who have been fully or partially displaced due to the Tilenga and EACOP projects.

One of them is the grandmother of activist Ibrahim Mpiima. “She was evicted from her land in Hoima, so she came to live with us in Kampala. With the compensation she received, she couldn’t afford to buy any land. Because of that, she never felt at peace. And now she has passed away,” says the young man. It was this experience that prompted him to get involved in the campaign against the project while still a student. “At the time, I didn’t know much about EACOP, but seeing what happened to my grandmother made me want to understand it better. Then I realised that most people know nothing about the project or its consequences. Some even believe it’s a development scheme that will lift Uganda out of poverty—when in reality, huge numbers of people have lost their land. We have to fight this misinformation,” he says angrily.

Opponents of the project face harsh repression

Even before the project was officially approved, anti-EACOP mobilisation had already begun to take shape nationally. The movement went global in 2018, coinciding with the major student protests led by Fridays For Future. The world began to take notice of EACOP and its alarming scale—the fifteen protected areas that it will cut through, its proximity to the Great Lakes (Lake Albert and Lake Victoria), one of Africa’s most important sources of fresh water, and its massive projected carbon footprint: 34 million tonnes of CO² per year, compared to Uganda’s annual emissions of just 5 million tonnes. All these reasons have led scientists to describe the project as a ‘carbon bomb’.

In Uganda, authorities have responded in a press release issued by the Ugandan oil authority by describing the international protest movement #StopEacop as a misguided opposition movement bordering on racism and colonialism. According to an investigation by the British media outlet DeSmog, TotalEnergies reportedly hired a South African public relations agency to “squash all the negative PR” surrounding the oil projects. To achieve this, a full-scale campaign has been launched both on the streets and across social media.

For Dickens Kamugisha, CEO of the non-profit AFIEGO (Africa Institute for Energy Governance), which has been tracking the EACOP case for years, this comes as no surprise. “Unfortunately, we have both a weak judicial system and a government that uses the police to punish community members who speak out. Many people have been arrested, intimidated and imprisoned.”

“Here, if you oppose what the government and the company (TotalEnergies, editor’s note) are doing, you become the enemy. And once you’re in their sights, you have to face the consequences.”

Ibrahim Mpiima has always been aware of the risks, having already been arrested once in 2023. “It’s our responsibility. I’m afraid of ending up in prison, of being beaten. I’m really afraid. But if we, the people who are informed, don’t protest, then we will have betrayed all those who believe in us,” he told Equal Times a few days before the demonstrations in March. Reached again by phone after his release from detention, where he endured torture, he said the ordeal had taken its toll: “I feel depressed. I haven’t fully recovered physically or mentally. The feeling is still fresh in my mind, as if it happened yesterday.”

Martha Amviko was also arrested in August 2024 and spent two weeks in prison. “They took us to Luzira, the high-security prison. They put me in the same cell as criminals, people who had committed murder, even though I was being charged with disturbing the public order,” she recalls. “It was overcrowded. From time to time, the guards would call us into their offices where they beat us and did everything to break our spirit.” Despite this ordeal, she insists, “I’d rather die than leave things as they are today. The people building this pipeline will be dead in 20 to 30 years. We are the generation who will have to live with their decisions—us and our children. We cannot give up the fight.”

Indeed, on 23 April, despite the ongoing repression, another demonstration was held in Kampala. Eleven activists were arrested. At the time of writing, they remain behind bars in Luzira high-security prison.