The other side of case backlog: lived experiences of litigants

2026-03-04 - 09:09

Plea bargaining sensitisation session at Gulu prison By the Judiciary’s own statistics, Uganda’s courts handled 456,629 cases in the last reporting period – 171,072 brought forward and 285,557 newly filed matters. Of these, 258,075 were completed, leaving 198,554 pending, including 48,326 backlog cases (about 24.3 per cent). Chief Magistrates’ courts handled the largest share of filings, while backlog remains concentrated in courts of record – the High Court, the Court of Appeal/Constitutional Court, and the Supreme Court. As of December 31, 2025, the judiciary reported 198,554 pending cases, of which 48,326 were backlog and 150,228 were non-backlog. The High Court alone carried about 89,216 pending matters, including 27,791 backlog cases, followed by Chief Magistrates’ Courts with 71,625 pending matters (of which 9,715 were backlog). The Court of Appeal/ Constitutional Court recorded about 8,172 backlog cases, while the Supreme Court, owing to its limited jurisdiction, had the smallest backlog. These numbers tell a story of effort. Under Judiciary Strategic Plan V (FY 2020/21–2024/25), productivity reportedly rose by 78.4 per cent, with an average judicial officer disposing of roughly 478 cases, and turnaround time reducing to 934 days from 1,164 days. Funding, too, has grown to about Shs 442.26 billion in FY 2024/25 from Shs 199.08 billion in FY 2020/21. Government commitment and development partners have helped expand infrastructure, digitalisation, and staffing. Yet statistics, impressive as they are, rarely capture the human cost of delay. LITIGANT’S REALITY Case backlog is not merely a docket problem. It is a lived experience. A few weeks ago, I appeared in an upcountry court for a land matter that had lingered in the system for seven years. It began in a Magistrate’s Court, which, after pre-trial processes, discovered it lacked jurisdiction. The file was transferred to the High Court. Another long wait, another cycle of preparation, another generation of costs. While at the hotel where I resided, late in the night, a 14-seater taxi arrived, full of witnesses – elderly men and women who had travelled from the village. Some had attended hearings for 10 years, ageing in the corridors of justice, hoping their turn would come. Each trip meant transport fees, accommodation, meals, and lost working days. For them, justice was not an abstract ideal; it was a heavy financial burden carried over years. In many land disputes, entire families travel to court. Farmers abandon their gardens, traders close their shops, children miss school. The adversarial system requires witnesses, yet the cost of participation often impoverishes those already struggling. These are the hidden costs of backlog: lost livelihoods, fractured families, mounting debts, and fading hope. The Judiciary faces genuine challenges. Uganda has roughly 700 judicial officers serving more than 47 million people, representing a ratio of about one officer per 64,000 citizens. Staffing gaps, funding shortfalls, and administrative delays slow progress despite reforms. Legal idealists sometimes frame backlog in purely economic terms, estimating trillions of shillings locked in litigation. But the issue is also social and moral. Delayed justice means delayed closure. Communities remain divided for years. Families cannot bury disputes with dignity. Land remains contested, homes remain frozen, and futures remain uncertain. Perhaps one of the most telling illustrations is Richard Kafumba v Attorney General. What began as a dispute over land valuation connected to the Bujagali Hydro–Electric Power Project evolved into a legal journey that spanned nearly 23 years. The case traversed multiple tiers of the justice system. At one point, the original court file was reportedly lost, requiring reconstruction. The delay was not necessarily caused by the parties but by systemic and procedural challenges. Eventually, after decades of litigation, the matter was dismissed this year, with each party ordered to bear its own costs. For over two decades, a litigant walked the corridors of justice, calculating valuations, paying legal fees, attending hearings, and waiting. Even if one were to estimate modest annual litigation expenses, the cumulative burden would be enormous. But the greater loss was time – years that cannot be refunded, opportunities that cannot be restored. Who documents the emotional cost of waiting 23 years for a judicial conclusion? No one. Maybe also in Attorney General v Geoffrey Kazinda, the Supreme Court, after six years, delivered its judgment, nullifying the decision of the constitutional court because one of the Justices hadn’t signed it! While delivering the ruling, it apologised to litigants for delays caused by institutional transitions. Such acknowledgements are important. They remind us that behind every file number is a human story. Then there is the human tragedy of prolonged remand. The case of Alfred Byamukama brought national attention to the consequences of systemic delay. He reportedly spent over two decades on remand without meaningful progression of his case, his liberty suspended in a system moving at glacial pace. It took parliamentary scrutiny to bring visibility to his plight. Behind prison statistics are fathers, sons, daughters whose lives are paused indefinitely. According to the Uganda Human Rights Commission, congestion in detention facilities remains acute, with remand prisoners forming a substantial proportion. For them, backlog is not inconvenience; it is lost youth, broken families, and irreversible years. Uganda must pursue reforms that address both efficiency and human impact. It must increase judicial staffing; have more judges and magistrates with improved welfare; enhance digital case management. The courts should expand e-filing, virtual hearings, and automated tracking. There should be strict case timelines; enforce scheduling discipline and limit adjournments. Under specialised courts, land and family divisions must be brought closer to communities; while creating alternative dispute resolutions. The judiciary should encourage mediation before litigation, and mission-based clearance programs. There should also be temporary task forces to clear aged cases. Such reforms should not only clear numbers but restore confidence in justice. It is easy to read statistics in air-conditioned conference rooms. It is harder to sit with a farmer who has travelled overnight for a postponed hearing. Or with a widow waiting ten years to inherit property. Or with witnesses ageing in court corridors. Justice delayed is not just a legal phrase, it is lived pain. Chief Justice Emeritus Josses Benjamin Odoki once likened the arms of government to three charcoal stoves, independent yet interdependent. If one fails, all suffer. The judiciary must be empowered with adequate resources and autonomy to function effectively. With the leadership of Chief Justice Flavian Zeija, there is renewed hope. His emphasis on discipline, integrity, and case management may help restore trust, if matched with resources and institutional support. Backlog reduction must not be measured only by percentages. It must be measured by relieved families, resolved disputes, and restored dignity. Every delayed case is a life on hold. Every postponed hearing is a journey repeated. Every backlog statistic is a human story waiting to end. Uganda’s justice system has made progress, but the next step is deeper: to ensure that justice is timely, accessible, and humane. Only then will the courts not merely count cases but heal communities. For justice is not truly served until it is felt by the people it was meant to protect. The writer is an advocate of the High court of Uganda Joshua@trustlawadvocates.com