By Bana Mwesige

In a move that shocked … checks notes …absolutely no one, the World Bank has decided to lift its oh-so-brave two-year loan suspension on Uganda. And why did they slap that suspension on in the first place? Oh, just a tiny thing called the Anti-Homosexuality Act—aka the Ugandan government’s not-so-subtle way of writing human rights violations directly into law.

But wait,

Now, after two full years (and a couple dozen international eyebrow raises), the World Bank is all like, “Don’t worry guys, we’ve got mitigation measures now!” as if sprinkling a few buzzwords around can somehow erase the ongoing criminalization and abuse of LGBTQ+ folks in Uganda. Spoiler alert: the law is still very much on the books, unamended and unapologetic. So… what exactly are these mystical “measures” and who do they think they’re fooling?

Honestly, the gaslighting is giving Olympic-level gymnastics.

In 2023, when the Bank finally grew a spine (or so we thought) and cut off loans to Uganda, it declared that it couldn’t in good conscience fund a government actively writing discrimination into law. A bold stance, sure—but let’s not pretend this was a new problem. Uganda’s had a rocky track record on LGBTQ+ rights for years, and yet the World Bank had no problem flooding the country with cash until the global PR got too hot.

So, what exactly are these mitigation measures? Or are we simply being taken for a ride? But we saw this coming from a mile away. Corporations and entities talk a big game when it comes to standing up for the marginalized, but when push comes to shove and they have to actually make bottom line decisions to stand with these communities, their “values” are not that deep afterall. In fact they will twist themselves in knots trying to justify standing with the oppressors, like in this case the Ugandan government.

Now it’s 2025, and surprise! The Bank wants back in – claiming it’s got protocols in place to ensure its money won’t contribute to discrimination. But here’s the real deal: this isn’t about values; it’s about business. Human rights violations? Eh. Political pressure? Maybe. But losing out on billions in investments and influence in a resource-rich, donor-reliant country? Now that’s the kind of “violation” that actually makes the suits sweat.

And let’s not pretend this is new behavior.

The World Bank and institutions like it have always danced with dictators and charmed the oppressors, as long as the numbers made sense. Remember when the Bank was pouring money into Uganda in the 1990s and early 2000s? That’s when neoliberal reforms were all the rage, and Uganda was the poster child for “development success.” Loans were flying in like confetti : privatization here, structural adjustment there. Never mind the growing gaps in healthcare, education, and social protection. As long as macroeconomic targets were met, who cared if the social fabric was fraying? And let’s be real: the Bank only pressed pause when the global LGBTQ+ community and its allies made enough noise to force their hand. That wasn’t principle – it was PR.

And it’s not just the World Bank,  Look at Facebook that literally facilitated a genocide, or General Motors and IT&T that collaborated with Nazis when it was politically expedient and financially beneficial. 

Now in 2025, we’re seeing the same playbook. Companies plaster rainbows on everything during Pride Month, but the moment it gets politically tricky or some loudmouthed politician throws a tantrum, they vanish like glitter in the wind. And don’t get me started on the “mitigation measures” , that’s just corporate-speak for “please stop yelling at us so we can keep making money.”

So let’s be clear: the World Bank’s backpedal on Uganda isn’t about protecting LGBTQ+ people. It’s about restoring their financial playground and influence in a region where China, the Gulf states, and other players are already making their moves.

We see you. We’ve watched this movie before. And guess what? The sequel’s just as bad as the original.