On a sun-baked red running track in the Sebei subregion of eastern Uganda, the rhythm of sneakers hitting earth carries more than the pulse of athletic ambition. For girls like 14-year-old Chemutai, whose name has been changed to protect her identity, each lap is a quiet act of defiance. Just months ago, she faced the looming threat of female genital mutilation (FGM), a practice still prevalent in parts of Uganda despite being criminalized since 2010. Today, she trains under the watchful eye of Coach Zuena Cheptoek, a former national athlete who has become something far more vital than a trainer: a guardian, a confidante, and a living rebuttal to the notion that tradition must trump safety.
This scene unfolds against a stark backdrop. According to the Uganda Demographic and Health Survey 2022, 34% of women aged 15-49 in the Sebei region have undergone FGM, one of the highest rates in the country. Nationally, even as prevalence has declined from 1.4% in 2011 to 0.3% in 2022, pockets of resistance remain, particularly among the Sabiny people where cultural norms run deep. What makes Cheptoek’s program on the outskirts of Kapchorwa town revolutionary isn’t just its athletic focus—it’s how it weaponizes sport as a vehicle for education, economic opportunity, and legal empowerment in a region where girls are often seen as commodities for bride price rather than bearers of rights.
The initiative, supported by the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) and local NGO Reproductive Health Uganda, operates on a simple but powerful premise: preserve girls in motion, and you keep them out of harm’s way. Training sessions double as forums for discussing bodily autonomy, legal rights under Uganda’s Prohibition of Female Genital Mutilation Act, and the long-term health consequences of FGM—including obstetric fistula, chronic infection, and psychological trauma. Crucially, the program too connects participants with vocational training in tailoring, agriculture, and digital literacy, offering tangible alternatives to early marriage, which often follows the cut.
When the Track Becomes a Sanctuary
Cheptoek’s approach is rooted in lived experience. A Sebei native herself, she underwent FGM at age 12—a fact she discloses only to those she trusts completely. “I didn’t understand what was happening to me,” she shared in a recent interview with UNFPA Uganda. “But I knew it hurt. And I knew I didn’t desire that for any other girl.” Her vulnerability has become the program’s greatest asset. Girls who might resist lectures from elders or health workers listen intently when she speaks—not as an authority figure, but as someone who has walked the same red dust and lived to tell a different story.
The psychological toll of FGM is often underestimated. A 2023 study published in The Lancet Global Health found that survivors are twice as likely to experience depression and anxiety disorders compared to their uncut peers. In rural Uganda, where mental health services are virtually nonexistent, the camaraderie forged on the track provides informal but vital psychosocial support. “When we run together, we don’t talk about what was taken from us,” says 16-year-old Jepchumba, another participant. “We talk about what we want to become—teachers, nurses, even soldiers. The track is where we remember we have futures.”
This emphasis on agency aligns with Uganda’s National Strategy to End Child Marriage and Teenage Pregnancy (2022-2026), which identifies sports and mentorship as key interventions in high-risk regions. Yet funding remains inconsistent. While the UNFPA has allocated approximately $1.2 million to FGM prevention programs in Uganda since 2020, local implementation often falters due to logistical challenges and cultural pushback. In Kapchorwa district, for example, some elders view anti-FGM campaigns as Western imposition, despite the law being homegrown and unanimously passed by Parliament.
The Economics of Protection
Beyond health and human rights, there’s a compelling economic case for investing in girls’ athletics as a protective mechanism. The World Bank estimates that ending child marriage alone could generate $17 billion in additional earnings and productivity for Uganda by 2030. When girls avoid FGM and early marriage, they are more likely to complete secondary education—each additional year of schooling boosting a woman’s future income by up to 20%, according to UNESCO data.
Cheptoek’s program exemplifies this multiplier effect. Of the 87 girls currently enrolled, 62 have remained in school past the typical dropout age of 14, and 28 have secured apprenticeships through partner NGOs. One participant, 17-year-old Ainembabazi, recently won a national under-18 800-meter title and earned a scholarship to a teacher training college in Mbale. “Sport didn’t just save my body,” she said after her victory. “It gave me a reason to believe I deserve one.”
Still, scaling such initiatives faces structural barriers. Uganda allocates less than 0.5% of its national budget to sports development, according to the Ministry of Education and Sports’ 2023 annual report—far below the African average of 1.8%. Most rural schools lack basic equipment, let alone trained coaches capable of delivering integrated mentorship. Cheptoek often buys shoes and uniforms out of her own stipend, a testament to her commitment but also a symptom of systemic neglect.
Voices from the Frontlines
“Sport creates safe spaces where girls can reclaim agency over their bodies. In communities where tradition silences girls, a running track becomes a platform for voice.”
— Dr. Betty Kyadondo, Director of Family Health at Uganda’s Ministry of Health, speaking at the National FGM Stakeholders Forum in Kampala, March 2024
“We cannot end FGM by policing bodies alone. We must invest in girls’ dreams—and sometimes, that starts with a pair of running shoes.”
— Ms. Aisha Babanura, UNFPA Uganda Programme Officer for Gender and Youth, field interview, Kapchorwa, January 2025
These perspectives underscore a growing consensus among policymakers: eradication efforts must move beyond punitive measures to holistic empowerment. Uganda’s Anti-FGM Unit, housed within the Uganda Police Force, reported 142 arrests related to FGM in 2023—a significant increase from 58 in 2020. Yet convictions remain rare, often hampered by community reluctance to testify and the practice’s underground shift to neighboring Kenya or clandestine nighttime ceremonies.
Beyond the Finish Line
The true measure of Cheptoek’s impact may not be found in medals or timelines, but in the quiet decisions girls make when no one is watching. Like the choice to refuse the cutter’s blade. Or to insist on returning to school after a marriage proposal. Or to mentor a younger teammate who flinches at the mention of “the ceremony.”
As Uganda strives to meet its Sustainable Development Goal 5.3 target of eliminating FGM by 2030, programs like hers offer a replicable blueprint—one where protection isn’t imposed from above, but cultivated from within, stride by stride. The red track in Kapchorwa may not appear on any global index of innovation, but for dozens of girls, it represents the starting line of a life reclaimed.
So what does it take to turn a sports field into a sanctuary? It takes coaches who dare to listen as much as they lead. It takes communities willing to confront uncomfortable truths. And it takes a relentless belief that every girl deserves not just to survive her childhood—but to sprint, unimpeded, toward the future she chooses.
What role do you think sports can play in challenging harmful traditions in your own community?
