Beauty queen champions fight against teen pregnancies

Official figures show that Uganda records about 31,500 teenage pregnancies every month—that is more than a thousand every single day. 

Muhoza Trivia. Courtesy photo
By Ranell Dickson Nsereko
Journalists @New Vision
#Muhoza Trivia

Uganda is facing a crisis that often goes unnoticed in the noise of national debates. Teenage pregnancy remains stubbornly high, with one in every four girls aged 15 to 19 already pregnant or a mother. 


This figure has hardly shifted in over a decade, according to the Ministry of Health, and it is reshaping entire communities.


Behind these statistics are young girls whose futures are cut short, and families trapped in cycles of poverty. 


The urgency is undeniable. Official figures show that Uganda records about 31,500 teenage pregnancies every month—that is more than a thousand every single day. 


In districts, like Arua and Bukedea, the numbers are even worse, with more than a third of teenage girls reported to be pregnant. 


Experts warn that teenage pregnancies are fueling Uganda’s high maternal and infant mortality rates: teenagers account for nearly 28 percent of maternal deaths, while babies born to them contribute to 20 percent of infant deaths.


These are not just numbers; they are young lives interrupted. Many teenage mothers drop out of school, either because of stigma or lack of support, and very few return even when policies say they should. In rural communities, the pressure is harsher. Girls are married off early, sometimes as a “solution” to pregnancy, cutting them off from opportunities to study or build independence.


“Many young girls in rural areas are not told they can achieve things on their own,” Ms Muhoza Trivia, Founder, Empowering Mothers in Uganda, a charity organisation says. “They lack proper education, information, and skills. That makes them vulnerable.”


She stresses that real change requires a cultural shift: families and communities must stop normalizing child marriage, and young men must be taught to respect girls rather than exploit them.


Economically, the cost of this crisis is staggering. Studies by the Population Secretariat estimate that households of teenage mothers spent over Sh 1.28 trillion on sexual and reproductive health in 2020 alone.

 
When teenage girls leave school, it is not just a personal loss; it undermines Uganda’s workforce and economy. With nearly two million births to teenage mothers recorded between 2016 and 2020, the country is losing out on the potential of an entire generation.


Yet amidst this grim reality, Muhoza says: “Education is crucial, but it’s not enough,” she insists. “We must teach resilience and confidence, and make sure these girls know they are not alone.”


Ms Muhoza also, a Miss Uganda contestant, says support for teenage and single mothers should come from home.

 
“Home should be a place of refuge,” she explains. “But what I see is many girls being chased out by their parents or guardians. They end up in unsafe relationships or on the streets, and the cycle of vulnerability deepens. If we truly want to tackle teenage pregnancies, we need families to stand by their daughters, not cast them out.”

 
Her appeal is not simply emotional—it is grounded in the evidence she has gathered through her charity. Many of the young mothers Empowering Mothers Uganda supports arrive with no financial backing, no shelter, and no access to healthcare. “Once a girl is rejected at home, she has nowhere to go,” Muhoza says. “And that’s how we see some of them having multiple pregnancies before they are even 20. Family acceptance is the first step toward breaking that cycle.”

 
She calls for a mindset shift in Ugandan communities, where stigma continues to surround early motherhood. “We must learn to see these girls not as failures, but as children who need protection and guidance. If the family provides emotional and practical support, the girl has a chance to return to school, to learn a skill, and to build a future.”

 
She challenges Ugandans to rethink their responses. “We must choose compassion over condemnation,” Muhoza concludes.