St Francis hospital, buluba
Despite the extreme mental and physical stress that leprosy puts on patients, St Francis Hospital in Buluba offers hope. The St Francis Hospital transforms the lives of people with leprosy in Uganda. The disease is no longer an incurable condition and, with ongoing treatment and support, those who develop the disease are free to live their lives and pursue their dreams.
Mbwali aged 86: Grandchildren are a blessing!
Mbwali arrived at St Francis Hospital Buluba as a young child, brought by her parents when patches began appearing across her face and her eyes watered constantly. She has lived with the effects of leprosy ever since, and today she is one of the long‑term residents at the SFLG‑supported home for women affected by the disease.
Life here is simple but safe. The hospital provides three meals a day, does the laundry, and ensures the women receive regular medical care. Olive, who oversees the home, knows each resident personally.
In 2018, Luke, a Clinic Nurse, asked that the women receive bananas and bread for breakfast, a small gesture that has become a cherished part of their routine. All the women in the home live with chronic conditions such as hypertension and peptic ulcers, the long‑term consequences of ageing with disability.
She married a fellow leprosy patient many years ago, and together they had two children. Both now live nearby and visit often, bringing grandchildren who brighten the compound with their laughter. Mbwali’s life tells a dignified story, not of dramatic events, but of endurance, community and care. Her story reflects the importance of long‑term, dignified care for older women who have lived with leprosy for most of their lives.
Mbwali arrived at St Francis Hospital Buluba as a young child, brought by her parents when patches began appearing across her face and her eyes watered constantly. She has lived with the effects of leprosy ever since, and today she is one of the long‑term residents at the SFLG‑supported home for women affected by the disease.
Life here is simple but safe. The hospital provides three meals a day, does the laundry, and ensures the women receive regular medical care. Olive, who oversees the home, knows each resident personally.
In 2018, Luke, a Clinic Nurse, asked that the women receive bananas and bread for breakfast, a small gesture that has become a cherished part of their routine. All the women in the home live with chronic conditions such as hypertension and peptic ulcers, the long‑term consequences of ageing with disability.
She married a fellow leprosy patient many years ago, and together they had two children. Both now live nearby and visit often, bringing grandchildren who brighten the compound with their laughter. Mbwali’s life tells a dignified story, not of dramatic events, but of endurance, community and care. Her story reflects the importance of long‑term, dignified care for older women who have lived with leprosy for most of their lives.
Mbawali on the right, Luke on left and Togonyu in the middle
Kunena aged 45: Family secrets and quiet courage
When 45‑year‑old Kunena Rogers first noticed blisters on his hands and feet, he was working long shifts in a maize‑grinding factory. By June 2024, the pain and weakness forced him to stop working altogether. “I couldn’t carry the bags anymore,” he says. “I’ve not worked since then.”
For more than a year he searched for answers, spending 200,000 UGX at a neighbouring hospital with no improvement. His symptoms worsened: swelling in his chest, numbness in both hands, and growing fear about what was happening to his body. In August 2025, Kunena finally received a diagnosis at St Francis Buluba, leprosy, and began MDT immediately. “Sometimes I’m worried,” he admits. “Sometimes I have courage that the medicine will work.”
His wife, a housemaid in Saudi Arabia, returned home briefly when she heard about his condition, then left again to keep the family afloat. Their four children, aged seven to 22, depend on her income. “Only my wife and mother know I have this,” he says quietly.
At Buluba, Kunena receives treatment free of charge, a lifeline at a moment when he has no income and no safety net. Dr Stevens and the clinic team monitor his swelling and nerve damage, offering reassurance and practical care. “Since I started treatment, it’s going well,” he says. “I feel hopeful.”
When 45‑year‑old Kunena Rogers first noticed blisters on his hands and feet, he was working long shifts in a maize‑grinding factory. By June 2024, the pain and weakness forced him to stop working altogether. “I couldn’t carry the bags anymore,” he says. “I’ve not worked since then.”
For more than a year he searched for answers, spending 200,000 UGX at a neighbouring hospital with no improvement. His symptoms worsened: swelling in his chest, numbness in both hands, and growing fear about what was happening to his body. In August 2025, Kunena finally received a diagnosis at St Francis Buluba, leprosy, and began MDT immediately. “Sometimes I’m worried,” he admits. “Sometimes I have courage that the medicine will work.”
His wife, a housemaid in Saudi Arabia, returned home briefly when she heard about his condition, then left again to keep the family afloat. Their four children, aged seven to 22, depend on her income. “Only my wife and mother know I have this,” he says quietly.
At Buluba, Kunena receives treatment free of charge, a lifeline at a moment when he has no income and no safety net. Dr Stevens and the clinic team monitor his swelling and nerve damage, offering reassurance and practical care. “Since I started treatment, it’s going well,” he says. “I feel hopeful.”
Kuena, secure at St Francis, Buluba
Latiddu aged 40: Finds relief at Buluba
For five years, 40‑year‑old farmer Latiddu lived with worsening ulcers, numbness, and pain, but no diagnosis. He and his wife travelled between hospitals in Namtungba, spending nearly 2 million UGX on tests and treatments that offered no answers. To pay the bills, Latiddu sold two cows and six goats, stripping away the assets that had supported his family. “We became poor trying to get this sorted,” he says. “Our family was moving on very well until I got this disease.”
As his condition deteriorated, Latiddu could no longer farm. His wife and children now work the fields alone, and the stress pushed him to the edge. “I was thinking I was just going to die,” he says. “I was thinking of committing suicide before as I’ve had to sell everything.”
Everything changed when several people in his village urged him to go to Buluba, a place he had heard of but knew little about. Within days of arriving, he finally had an answer: leprosy. MDT began immediately.
“I was relieved,” he says. “I couldn’t even carry a mug before, but now I can hold it. My legs felt heavier before.” At Buluba, treatment, food, and ulcer care are free and Latiddu will return home soon, with renewed hope, and a future no longer defined by fear. “If I was charged here, I would have already gone home, I’m very happy, and thankful to the supporters.”
For five years, 40‑year‑old farmer Latiddu lived with worsening ulcers, numbness, and pain, but no diagnosis. He and his wife travelled between hospitals in Namtungba, spending nearly 2 million UGX on tests and treatments that offered no answers. To pay the bills, Latiddu sold two cows and six goats, stripping away the assets that had supported his family. “We became poor trying to get this sorted,” he says. “Our family was moving on very well until I got this disease.”
As his condition deteriorated, Latiddu could no longer farm. His wife and children now work the fields alone, and the stress pushed him to the edge. “I was thinking I was just going to die,” he says. “I was thinking of committing suicide before as I’ve had to sell everything.”
Everything changed when several people in his village urged him to go to Buluba, a place he had heard of but knew little about. Within days of arriving, he finally had an answer: leprosy. MDT began immediately.
“I was relieved,” he says. “I couldn’t even carry a mug before, but now I can hold it. My legs felt heavier before.” At Buluba, treatment, food, and ulcer care are free and Latiddu will return home soon, with renewed hope, and a future no longer defined by fear. “If I was charged here, I would have already gone home, I’m very happy, and thankful to the supporters.”
Latiddu and his wife.
Etumya John aged 78 and Francis Jane aged 70: A lifelong partnership shaped by leprosy
(Namagera Leprosy Village, Buluba)
John and Francis met in 1979 at St Francis Buluba Hospital, both receiving treatment for leprosy. Decades later, in 2015, they married in a small Catholic church. Today, at 78 and 70, they live together in Namagera Leprosy Village, relying on one another with a tenderness shaped by shared experience.
Francis’s anaesthesia is severe. “Her fingers often become injured without her knowing” John says gently. “She has no feeling in her hand.” John himself worked as a cook at St Francis Buluba for 25 years, preparing meals for staff and patients before retiring in 2002. Now, chronic pain in his back and knees means he can no longer farm or rent land as he once did. Their children help when they can, but support is irregular. “Our son doesn’t help us at all,” John says. “Our four daughters send something once in a while.”
Their story is a reminder of the long‑term impact of leprosy — and the quiet resilience of older couples who continue to face hardship with dignity and devotion. Despite everything, their bond is unwavering. “She can understand me better than others, if she gets wounds I wouldn’t care, and vice versa.”
(Namagera Leprosy Village, Buluba)
John and Francis met in 1979 at St Francis Buluba Hospital, both receiving treatment for leprosy. Decades later, in 2015, they married in a small Catholic church. Today, at 78 and 70, they live together in Namagera Leprosy Village, relying on one another with a tenderness shaped by shared experience.
Francis’s anaesthesia is severe. “Her fingers often become injured without her knowing” John says gently. “She has no feeling in her hand.” John himself worked as a cook at St Francis Buluba for 25 years, preparing meals for staff and patients before retiring in 2002. Now, chronic pain in his back and knees means he can no longer farm or rent land as he once did. Their children help when they can, but support is irregular. “Our son doesn’t help us at all,” John says. “Our four daughters send something once in a while.”
Their story is a reminder of the long‑term impact of leprosy — and the quiet resilience of older couples who continue to face hardship with dignity and devotion. Despite everything, their bond is unwavering. “She can understand me better than others, if she gets wounds I wouldn’t care, and vice versa.”
Eternal love and friendship - Etumya John and Frances Jane
Luke Waiswa aged 31: The nurse transforming leprosy care in Buluba
When Luke Waiswa first stepped into the Leprosy and TB Clinic in 2019, he was nervous. “I wasn’t exposed to people with fingers and legs like this,” he says. But within months, everything changed. “Now I’ll shake their hands. I’ll hug them in the community like they’re my father and mother.”
At 31, Luke is the heart of leprosy care at Buluba. He diagnoses patients, manages disabilities, teaches self‑care, and conducts contact tracing in nearby communities. “If they get dry skin, it cracks and they can get ulcers,” he explains. “So I teach them how to look after themselves.”
He also creates “photomaps”, tracing patients’ feet to monitor changes in shape and coordinates government programmes that support people affected by leprosy. Luke’s journey began in 2017 on the children’s ward. When the previous clinic head retired, he stepped into the role and received a month of specialist training. He has since become a trusted figure in the community, known for his compassion and commitment. Alongside his full‑time role, Luke is studying for a diploma in nursing. “I will come back here after,” he says. “I like working here.”
Luke represents the future of leprosy care in Uganda — skilled, dedicated, and deeply rooted in the community he serves. “I enjoy the work, the people are very appreciative. I feel I can offer them something meaningful.”
When Luke Waiswa first stepped into the Leprosy and TB Clinic in 2019, he was nervous. “I wasn’t exposed to people with fingers and legs like this,” he says. But within months, everything changed. “Now I’ll shake their hands. I’ll hug them in the community like they’re my father and mother.”
At 31, Luke is the heart of leprosy care at Buluba. He diagnoses patients, manages disabilities, teaches self‑care, and conducts contact tracing in nearby communities. “If they get dry skin, it cracks and they can get ulcers,” he explains. “So I teach them how to look after themselves.”
He also creates “photomaps”, tracing patients’ feet to monitor changes in shape and coordinates government programmes that support people affected by leprosy. Luke’s journey began in 2017 on the children’s ward. When the previous clinic head retired, he stepped into the role and received a month of specialist training. He has since become a trusted figure in the community, known for his compassion and commitment. Alongside his full‑time role, Luke is studying for a diploma in nursing. “I will come back here after,” he says. “I like working here.”
Luke represents the future of leprosy care in Uganda — skilled, dedicated, and deeply rooted in the community he serves. “I enjoy the work, the people are very appreciative. I feel I can offer them something meaningful.”
Luke at work.
