Yellow Bananas and Closed Gates: Does Uganda’s Arts Industry Need a Reset?

Yellow Bananas and Closed Gates: Does Uganda’s Arts Industry Need a Reset?

Ah! These young people are lazy. They don’t know how the world works. They don’t take work seriously. They are not patient. They are just chaotic. Great talkers but little doers. I’ve heard these statements repeatedly, especially from “elders.” Often, they’re referring to my generation. And just so you know, I am a very proud Gen Z.

The assumption that we don’t want to work, that we complain about everything, that we are unwilling to learn (this one beats my brain all the time considering how inquisitive my generation is—proven by statistics), or that we’re just lazy. These comments are thrown around casually. You think it’s just parents and relatives saying this? You haven’t met the elders in Uganda’s arts industry, the ones who are highly respected.

During a conversation with an arts journalist at Arena Mall some time in May, he said something that stuck with me. He said:
“The people we call elders got the chance to travel abroad and see a few things about the arts, and when they returned, they assumed they now knew it all. That’s why they still sit at the gate of the industry and are selfish about sharing networks and connections.”

It made sense then, and it makes even more sense now. No wonder it’s the same constant faces we see at symposiums talking about the arts. People reminiscing, “You see, for us in the ’90s, we used to…” Meanwhile, check the relevance of that idea now and you’ll find a quarter-full house at the National Theatre during a show.

Have you noticed that young, vibrant people rarely attend arts symposiums? That’s because the same conversations are recycled. Speakers get transport allowances (a modern disguise for not paying people their worth), and return to their lives with no solutions found. The same challenges get highlighted again and again, moderated strictly by timekeeping, and nothing changes.

Let’s also talk about how adults think they’re doing young artists a favor by inviting them into spaces to work or contribute ideas. This mindset is silently suffocating young talent. Organizations parade young people as “esteemed” employees while offering the bare minimum to work with yet still expect full KPIs delivered. A female photographer once shared, “How do you expect me to give you a wide shot with a macro lens?” And when she tries her best, her boss tells her: “Work with what we have. In our days, we didn’t even have such equipment.”

This is the same kind of boss who asks you to apply for a grant without providing a brief, and when you present your proposal, you’re accused of not being serious or intelligent enough. Or worse, when you share a brilliant, tested idea and are met with, “Thank you, but let’s ask someone more experienced.” Only for that experienced person’s idea to flop, and then they turn to you asking what went wrong. Well, you didn’t listen. Even with proof, you were Doubting Thomas.

We could also talk about young people asking for leave and being questioned: “What will you be doing? Is it really necessary?” “For us, we never had time to rest,” they say. Well, during your time, fewer trees were cut and the sun wasn’t this hot. It can literally make people sick. Even during leave, we’re still receiving emails and requests. But when they are on leave? “I’ll respond when I get back to the office.”

I once worked on a budget while on a drip. Meanwhile, my boss had a headache and was posting statuses but not responding to work-related issues. Or bosses who will travel across the country to attend a neighbor’s burial but won’t let young employees attend their own family events. Convenient, isn’t it? But when the tables turn, Gen Z are labeled: lazy, excuse-makers, unserious, talkers.

Now here’s the thing: we mirror what we are given. We’re not generous to stingy people. We won’t give a loaf when we’re handed two slices. Something I truly admire about my generation is our love for collaboration. Put us in a space, equip us with the right tools, and watch us produce diamonds. Refined brilliance born from teamwork and content mastery.

Yes, we get lazy at times. In fact, sometimes it’s most of the time, because of anxiety, depression, ADHD, heartbreaks—you name it. But in those states, we sometimes produce our finest work. Yes, we are imperfect. Many times, imperfections define us. But isn’t that what makes us human?

Lately, I tell people to treat me like a human being. One day I’ll produce the finest work, and the next day, a mistake will happen because I am human. Not a robot.

Elders have their flaws too. But rarely will they apologize. Why? Because they fought to be here. So, their mistakes—even harmful ones—are somehow validated. Meanwhile, young people are expected to apologize for things often beyond their control like responding to an email that an elder only “sent in their head.” Let a Gen Z try sending an email in their head and you’ll hear about it.

But also, why should a young person’s growth threaten you, after all the years, influence, and experience you’ve accumulated? I still don’t get it. How hard is it to train us to be even better? To let us start something of our own so that both entities grow?

My father used to tell a story about an old woman who hid yellow bananas in a corner so others wouldn’t eat. Fifteen bunches later, they started rotting. She called the neighbors to come eat, but no one showed up. In the end, all was wasted. Maybe that’s where we’re heading. Waiting for the industry to rot before young people are called to save it.

We love you, elders. We truly do. We appreciate how far you’ve brought Uganda’s arts industry. You deserve your flowers. But maybe it’s time to rest, because we can’t replace the head when the branches still refuse to shed old skin. We’ll still come for your wisdom—after all, the old broom knows all the corners of the house.

But in the meantime, trust us. Give us the right tools. Or train us to be better than you. Then sit home and watch the money come in.

But hey, what do I know? I’m just a chaotic Gen Z.

@Ulokcwinyu Ubia