On July 10th, 2025, the Constitutional Court of Uganda made a ruling that has left many of us confused, amused, and deeply concerned. In the case of Women’s Probono Initiative v. Attorney General [2025] UGCC 6, the Court held that polygamy under customary law is gender-neutral. That means, legally speaking, not only can a man marry multiple wives, but a woman can now marry multiple husbands too.
At first glance, this may seem like a step forward for gender equality. But from where I stand as someone who isn’t Ugandan but has lived in Uganda for over fifteen years, this ruling doesn’t make much cultural or practical sense. In all those years, I have never heard of a woman marrying multiple men under customary practices. That alone should tell us something.
We cannot talk about customary law as if it exists in a vacuum. It is rooted in history, culture, and generations of social practice. In nearly all Ugandan communities, customary polygamy, where it exists, has always been polygyny, meaning a man marrying multiple women. I haven’t come across a single tribe where women are customarily allowed to marry multiple men.
Scholars like John Mbiti, in his book African Religions and Philosophy, have long emphasised the patriarchal nature of African traditional societies, where the man is the head of the household and the initiator of marriage. Similarly, the Uganda Law Reform Commission’s Study on Customary Law and Practices in Uganda (2013) confirms that polygamy in customary settings has consistently been a male-oriented practice. So when the Court says customary polygamy is gender-neutral, it’s not interpreting the law, it’s reimagining culture. That’s not the role of a court. If we start redefining traditions without the communities that practice them, we risk stripping customary law of its authenticity.
Even if we accept this idea in theory, how do we make it work practically? One key element of customary marriage is bride price, a cultural requirement where the man pays dowry to the woman’s family. That is how marriage is initiated and recognized. So, how exactly is a woman supposed to marry three or four husbands? Who is she paying dowry to?
And that’s just the beginning of the mess. Uganda’s inheritance and property laws already struggle with complexity in polygamous unions. Adding multi-husband marriages into the mix could bring total legal chaos. The Succession Act (Cap. 162) and the Marriage Act (Cap. 251) all assume that a man is at the center of polygamous arrangements. Property division, land rights, and spousal duties were never designed with multiple husbands in mind.
According to research from the Land and Equity Movement in Uganda (LEMU), even basic land disputes in customary marriages are among the most litigated issues in rural Uganda. Now imagine trying to navigate those disputes with multiple husbands, children from different fathers, and unclear lines of responsibility. It’s a recipe for social and legal confusion.
One of the main arguments behind the ruling is that it promotes gender equality. But I must ask: does it really? In many Ugandan households, women in polygamous marriages already face social and economic disadvantages. They compete for resources, attention, and decision-making power. They often have little control over property or their own time.
Instead of fixing those underlying issues, this ruling simply extends the same unequal system to women. That’s not progress, that’s copying a broken model and expecting it to empower someone else. Worse still, it opens doors for exploitation. We could see a rise in transactional or coercive unions, where men are married off to wealthier women for survival. Equality should be about freedom, dignity, and justice, not about making both genders equally vulnerable to abuse.
Uganda is a religious country. Over 84% of the population is Christian, and about 14% is Muslim, according to the latest Uganda Bureau of Statistics (UBOS) census. Both faiths have strong views on marriage. Islam permits a man to marry up to four wives, but does not allow women to marry multiple husbands. Christianity, which dominates the country, generally forbids polygamy altogether.
The Court’s ruling may be legally sound, but it clashes with deeply held religious values. That’s a problem. When legal systems disconnect from people’s beliefs, the law risks becoming irrelevant in everyday life. People will either ignore it, reject it, or quietly rebel against it. Let’s be honest. This ruling didn’t come from Parliament or the people. It came from a courtroom through a judgment that redefined how communities understand marriage, without their input. That feels like judicial overreach. If Uganda wants to revisit how marriage works under the law, let’s do it the right way: through national dialogue, legislative reform, and genuine engagement with the communities affected. Courts can interpret law, but they should not reinvent culture. Customary law should evolve from the ground up, not from the bench down.
I believe in equality. I believe in justice. But I also believe in reality. And the reality is that this ruling, while perhaps well-intentioned, is disconnected from the way Ugandans actually live, love, and marry. True progress must balance fairness with cultural context. It must empower the vulnerable without creating chaos. It must respect tradition while gently challenging its flaws. Uganda has an opportunity to rethink marriage and equality, but that journey must start with truth, not theory.
About the Author
Chol Michael Biar is a final-year law student at Starford International University. His interests lie at the intersection of law, society, and African cultural traditions, with a strong passion for International Humanitarian Law and justice reform. Chol writes to provoke thought, challenge assumptions, and advocate for laws that reflect the lived realities of African communities. He can be reached via email at: [email protected].
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