Meet Derrick and Sarah. Both are 35, successful and holding roughly USD 200,000 enough to carve out a serious stake in Kampala’s booming property market. Yet their hearts tug in opposite directions.
Derrick wakes to Kololo’s early-morning hush, the city below still rubbing sleep from its eyes. From his two-bedroom condominium, he can stroll to a coffee shop in three minutes or to his office in ten. No boda rides through muddy shortcuts; no petrol-gulping commute.
His life is pure lock-and-leave convenience: 24-hour security, an elevator to his door, a caretaker who calls the plumber before Derrick even notices a leak. When work takes him to Nairobi or London, he can simply lock the door and catch a flight.
But every convenience has a price. Service charges and sinking-fund fees rise steadily like bus fares in Uganda before Christmas. Any major repair to the building, from elevator upgrades to a tired façade, lands as a collective bill. And resale value? Strong among expatriates and corporates today, but new towers keep coming and the next generation’s tastes may shift.
Still, the buzz of the city, the ease of a short commute and the cachet of a Kololo address are hard to beat.
Across town, Sarah pulls open her own gate in Buwate, the garden already alive with her children’s laughter and the smoke of roasting maize. Her five-bedroom villa is more than a house: it’s a stage for life’s big Ugandan moments, kwanjula ceremonies, Christmas goat roasts, and those spontaneous football matches when cousins descend unannounce
She designed the layout to suit a growing family: wide veranda for parties, kitchen spacious enough for a full wedding feast, solar panels and rainwater tanks to soften utility shocks. Privacy is deep; even the mother-in-law knocks before entering.
But freedom carries its own duties. She manages staff, negotiates with Umeme when outages hit, and budgets for maintenance long after the builders have left. Selling such a home can take patience and the right buyer, and as children grow up or parents age, the compound may feel larger or smaller than she once imagined.
Set side by side, their choices tell a bigger story:
Convenience: Derrick’s life is all about proximity cafés, offices, gyms, and a social calendar that needs no car. Sarah’s world is a 20-minute drive away from the city centre; every outing means planning, but at home she rules her own private space.
Cost of ownership: Derrick pays predictable monthly fees but must accept increases and the collective decisions of the condo association. Sarah spent heavily up frontland, design, construction and must budget for future repairs, staff salaries and seasonal landscaping.
Liquidity and appreciation: Kololo’s expat market makes Derrick’s condo relatively easy to rent or sell today. Yet history from Toronto to Nairobi shows stand-alone homes on land often outpace condos in long-term appreciation, because the land itself keeps gaining value while apartment blocks age. Kampala’s first-ring suburbs mirror this global pattern as urban sprawl pushes demand outward.
Life changes: Derrick’s setup suits a career that demands travel and minimal maintenance. But what if he starts a family or wants a vegetable garden? Sarah’s villa embraces family life and cultural gatherings now, but when her children leave or she wants to downsize, will she welcome the upkeep?
Non-money considerations: Privacy, neighbour relations, space for traditions, even the soundscape jazz drifting over Kololo rooftops versus the night chorus of crickets will shape their happiness as much as resale value
Across major cities, land-based properties have historically shown steadier long-term value than apartments, while condos offer liquidity and quick rental income. Kampala reflects both truths: prime apartments attract steady corporate tenants, and suburban plots steadily appreciate as the city expands. The stronger bet depends less on statistics and more on personal priorities.
Would you trade the buzz of Derrick’s hilltop life for Sarah’s compound of mango trees and Christmas drums? Would rising condo fees bother you less than hiring a gardener, or would the long-term pull of land ownership outweigh the call of city lights? How might your answer change as your career, family, or lifestyle evolves?
Uganda’s property market truly has something for everyone but the best fit isn’t always the one the brokers rave about. The hidden factors future maintenance, shifting family needs, how you value privacy are as important as price per square metre.
Let’s help you unearth those hidden considerations before you sign a contract or break ground. Whether your dream is a Kololo balcony or a garden big enough for a kwanjula, Jemex Services Ltd can guide you through the numbers, the fine print and the life questions that matter beyond the obvious
Great piece, I think I would pick a place based on work. If both parents have full time jobs in the city, a condo would be good, so as to create time for children. However if at least one parent is grounded of work is part time, then a stand alone would be good.
Haha, love that take sounds like you’ve just turned the popular real estate slogan “location, location, location” into “occupation, occupation, occupation!” Your formula might be the most practical house-hunting rule I’ve heard all week.
the stories most average ugandans( those leaving in apartment of 1.8m below) give is that owning a home commands respect. Most of them are saving to buy houses or plots for building. They assume condonz are for boys
😂 True! In Uganda a plot and a stand-alone still shout “I’ve arrived,” while condos often get the “for boys” label status here is all about that gate and compound!