How war in Iran could hit Africa, and Uganda hard

2026-03-04 - 14:58

The Strait of Hormuz is barely 21 miles wide at its narrowest point. On a map, it looks insignificant, a thin blue line between Iran and Oman. But in reality, it is one of the most important chokepoints on Earth. Nearly one-fifth of the world’s oil and a significant portion of global liquefied natural gas (LNG) pass through it every day. Now, that narrow waterway has become the epicenter of a widening conflict. The war that began with airstrikes is now threatening the arteries of the global economy. Israeli jets struck targets in Tehran and Beirut on Tuesday, March 3, expanding a conflict that has already redrawn the political map of the Middle East. The Israeli military said it was hitting “military targets” and announced that ground troops would “advance and seize additional strategic areas in Lebanon to prevent fire on Israeli border communities.” The escalation follows a stunning weekend development: the United States and Israel struck Iran, killing Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. Tehran has responded with a wave of retaliatory attacks across the region, widening the battlefield far beyond Israel’s borders. The fallout has been swift and chaotic. Two drones struck the U.S. embassy in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, causing what officials described as a “limited” fire and “minor damage.” Iranian state media claimed a command building at a U.S. base in Bahrain had been destroyed, though Washington has not confirmed that report. On Monday, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio warned that “the hardest hits” on Iran are “yet to come.” President Trump, meanwhile, publicly criticized British Prime Minister Keir Starmer for initially denying access to U.K. bases. The United States has told Americans across the Middle East to “depart now.” But beyond the military exchanges, another front has opened, one that could prove even more consequential. THE WORLD’S MOST DANGEROUS WATERWAY Roughly 21 million barrels of oil pass through the Strait of Hormuz each day, about one-fifth of global supply. Around 35 percent of the world’s liquefied natural gas shipments move through the same channel. For China, nearly 40 percent of its oil imports flow through these waters. Now that corridor is effectively frozen. Saudi Aramco, the world’s largest oil company with a valuation of about $2 trillion, has reportedly halted operations. Japanese tankers have turned back. Greek shipping fleets are rerouting. Saudi, Iraqi, and Emirati crude is sitting idle. At least eight tankers are said to be waiting outside the Gulf of Oman, unable to proceed. Oil futures surged past $130 within hours of the disruption, with traders openly discussing the possibility of prices climbing to $150 or even $200 if the closure holds. The Strait of Hormuz is not merely a shipping lane. It is the pipeline of modern industrial life. If mines are laid, missiles fired, or tankers struck, the economic consequences will not unfold gradually. They will arrive like a shockwave. Oil prices spike. Insurance markets freeze. Ships halt mid-voyage. Airlines ground flights. Manufacturers scramble for fuel. Banks tighten credit as volatility surges. The memory of COVID still lingers; markets fell 34 percent in just 23 days. But that crisis was driven by lockdowns. This one strikes at the energy backbone of the global economy. And it is happening not over weeks, but days. A CALCULATED RISK Strategically, Iran does not need to seal Hormuz forever. It only needs to create enough chaos to rattle markets and pressure adversaries. Even a temporary disruption can send prices soaring and unsettle governments far from the Gulf. The U.S. Navy could eventually reopen the corridor. But not immediately. And not without risk. That reality explains why Hormuz has long been considered one of the world’s most dangerous flashpoints. It is narrow, exposed, and vital. A choke point in every sense of the word. As Israeli forces push deeper into Lebanon and strikes continue in Tehran, the conflict is no longer confined to battlefields and airspace. It has reached the bloodstream of the global economy. What happens next will not be measured only in military gains or losses. It will be measured at petrol stations, in supermarket aisles, and on trading floors around the world. When the Strait tightens, everyone feels it. A RISKY GAMBLE FOR TEHRAN Yet Iran’s move carries enormous risk, not just for the West, but for its own partners. About 84 percent of the oil passing through Hormuz is destined for Asia. China alone imports roughly five million barrels per day through the strait. By contrast, only about six percent of the oil moving through Hormuz goes to Europe and the United States, which have strategic petroleum reserves and domestic energy production to cushion the blow. There is another uncomfortable fact for Tehran: 90 percent of Iran’s own oil exports go to China, through the same waterway. For years, Beijing has served as Iran’s economic lifeline, purchasing sanctioned oil and providing financial breathing room. An energy crisis triggered by a Hormuz closure would hit China hard. It would also undermine Iran’s own fragile economy. This is why Iran has threatened to close Hormuz for decades but rarely followed through. The threat itself has historically been the weapon. An actual shutdown risks becoming a self-inflicted wound. If the strait is now effectively closed, it suggests something deeper, a leadership that feels cornered, desperate, or willing to gamble on global disruption. THE DOMINO EFFECT – AND WHY AFRICA SHOULD PAY ATTENTION Some analysts warn of a rapid chain reaction: • Oil surging toward $150 per barrel • Inflation jumping sharply • Emergency interest rate hikes • Stock markets plunging • Capital fleeing risk assets • Global liquidity tightening Whether events unfold that quickly remains uncertain. But one thing is clear: energy shocks do not stay contained in the Gulf. They travel. And when they do, Africa feels them. WHAT THIS MEANS FOR UGANDA Uganda is geographically distant from the Strait of Hormuz. Economically, it is not. Uganda imports most of its refined fuel. A spike in global oil prices translates almost immediately into higher pump prices in Kampala. That, in turn, pushes up transport costs, food prices, and overall inflation. In economies where households already spend a large share of income on essentials, such shocks are deeply felt. Airlines face higher fuel bills. Manufacturers pay more for energy and imported inputs. Governments face pressure to subsidize fuel or manage public frustration. For a country preparing to expand its own oil production, volatility in global markets can complicate long-term planning and investor confidence. There is also a human dimension. Uganda’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs has issued a security notice to Ugandan citizens in Iran, urging those who can leave to do so. The government has withdrawn non-essential staff from its embassy in Tehran, and consular services are now severely limited. “The Government of Uganda is monitoring the situation in the Middle East with grave concern,” the ministry said. It called on all parties to exercise restraint and prioritize dialogue. Ugandans remaining in Iran have been advised to stay indoors, alert community leaders to their whereabouts, and suspend travel to the Middle East until further notice. For Ugandan families with loved ones in the region, the crisis is no longer abstract. It is immediate. A GLOBAL CRISIS WITH LOCAL CONSEQUENCES It is tempting to view the confrontation between Iran and the United States as a distant geopolitical drama, a clash of navies and missiles in faraway waters. But the Strait of Hormuz connects more than two shores. It connects global supply chains, financial markets, and household budgets across continents. If the choke point tightens, oil spikes. If oil spikes, inflation follows. If inflation rises, central banks respond. Markets wobble. Investment slows. Growth suffers. And in countries like Uganda, where economic buffers are thinner and external shocks land harder, the consequences can be swift and painful. The real question now is not simply whether the U.S. Navy can reopen a shipping lane. It is whether cooler heads will prevail before the world’s narrowest waterway triggers its widest economic shock in years.