Ayikoru Poni
We often preach “customer is king,” but in reality, the king is left standing, unattended to in many places in Uganda. As I write this article, I think we deserve a resurrection (if there ever was a death) of customer care in Uganda.
In the ideal Ugandan office, you walk in and hear a cheerful “Good morning!” before your feet even cross the reception line. You are offered a seat, perhaps even a cold glass of water, and then—miracle of miracles—a genuine smile from the receptionist who remembers you from your last visit. Sounds like fiction, right? That is because in most places in Uganda, it is.
Customer care is supposed to be the heartbeat of service—public or private. Ironically, while we criticize some government offices for their slow systems and bureaucratic maze, it is often the private sector, with its sleek branding and polished websites, that forgets the basics: greet, assist, and thank. I will give you an example: walk into some private telecom centers, or a school gate, or a flashy bank branch and observe: the security guard may grunt in your direction almost as if they are the owners of the place, the receptionist is too busy on TikTok to look up, and you are left wondering if you have intruded on someone’s private living room rather than entered a customer service space.
Why Is It So Hard to Smile? My Lord…I wonder!
Many companies often preach “the customer is king,” but in reality, the king is left standing, unattended, and sometimes insulted. Smiling, saying hello, offering assistance—these are not costly gestures. They are just basic human decency. Yet, we have managed to wrap customer care in complex training manuals and forget that it starts with being nice. Meanwhile, some public offices—once notorious for “come back tomorrow” syndrome—are slowly picking up. Some now have numbered queues, feedback forms, and staff who at least acknowledge your existence.
If you have ever been offered a glass of water at an office in Uganda, cherish the memory—you are part of an elite few. That small act is symbolic: “We value you enough to keep you comfortable.” Yet most offices treat customers like unwanted visitors. You are lucky to get a chair, let alone hydration. In many offices, the receptionist decides your fate. A warm welcome could make you patient even in a delay. But too often, the receptionist plays defense, treating clients as interruptions to her WhatsApp conversation. We have somehow trained the frontline staff to guard the business against customers rather than attract and retain them.
Companies spend millions on customer care training, but no amount of coaching can replace a culture of courtesy. The irony is, Ugandans are naturally warm people. Commonly in the Central region, we say “ssebo” and “nyabo” out of respect in everyday life. Yet in many instances, when a uniform and name tag are added, the warmth disappears.
What Then Needs to Change? Start with basics: Greet customers. Smile. Offer help. Hire for attitude, not just certificates: Some of the most helpful people never went to customer care school.
Monitor your front line: CEOs need to walk into their own receptions unannounced and see what real customers go through. Treat every client like they matter—even if they do not look like they are going to spend a fortune.
In conclusion, Give Us the Water, the Smile, and the ‘Good Morning’. Customer care does not start with systems or strategies. It starts with human kindness. In Uganda, it is time we all learned that good service is not a favor—it is a duty. Give us the “good morning,” the smile, and yes, even that humble glass of water. It might just be the cheapest investment with the biggest return.
Flowers to those who have always been customer-oriented oriented irrespective of the social or economic status of the customer. I hope you too reading this can take it upon yourself to demand for better customer care.
Article Written by:
Ayikoru Patience Poni
Member, EU Youth Sounding Board Uganda
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