The Courtroom as a Classroom: How the CEHURD Moot Competition Advances Reproductive and Gender Justice in Uganda 

By Ruth Ajalo 

The Centre for Health, Human Rights and Development (CEHURD) convenes and coordinates the Annual National Inter-University Constitutional Law Moot Court Competition in Uganda. Held annually since 2014, the competition seeks to deepen understanding of the justiciability of the right to health, as guaranteed by the Constitution of the Republic of Uganda and regional and international instruments. It trains law students in the practical aspects of litigation, legal writing, the preparation of court pleadings, courtroom advocacy, and professional conduct and demeanour. It also seeks to sharpen their public speaking skills. Over the years, the CEHURD Moot Competition has nurtured a cohort of young lawyers who appreciate the right to health and its justiciability within Uganda’s legal system. 

As an organisation, we did not arrive at this year’s moot competition without a background. The competition was a follow-on activity under a project that CEHURD is implementing in six districts: Kamuli, Mayuge, Mukono, Buikwe, Arua and Yumbe. The Action for Women’s Health project aims to improve the physical and mental health of women and girls in Uganda through tested legal, community empowerment and research approaches. Through this project, CEHURD intends to scale up these approaches to address social injustices in health, including health rights violations faced by women, girls and other vulnerable populations, and to share lessons at regional and global levels. 

The six districts are predominantly rural, peri-urban and underserved, with distinct characteristics such as island communities, refugee settlements, plantation farming and high poverty levels. These circumstances expose women and girls to multiple and intersecting vulnerabilities. Interventions are designed to enable women and girls to access justice in health, enjoy quality healthcare, claim their health rights and hold duty-bearers accountable for the provision of quality services. 

Interventions conducted in the districts so far include inception meetings, mobile legal aid camps, case investigations and follow-ups, rapid legal responses, court attendances, case mediations and a judicial colloquium for justice actors. These engagements have allowed us to listen to stakeholders and community members and document the barriers women and girls face in accessing reproductive health services and support for their mental well-being. Several challenges emerged, including financial and economic barriers, geographical barriers, health system weaknesses, gender inequality, gender-based violence, stigma, discrimination, harmful social norms, limited access to contraception and medicine stockouts, among others. What stood out was that the reported barriers were largely similar across the districts, making it clear that we had our work cut out for us. 

This year’s moot competition was organised under the theme, “Reproductive and Gender Justice in Uganda: Navigating Constitutional Rights, Public Interest and Social Values.” As one of the organisers, developing the theme was not an easy task. It took time to consider possible ideas and analyse the different strands of work we were undertaking as an institution. However, because the competition was funded under the Action for Women’s Health project, it had to align with the issues emerging from our community engagements. These experiences provided the foundation for the theme, which reflects the realities of many women and girls in Uganda whom we encounter in our work. 

With the theme approved, the next task was to develop a moot problem that depicted reproductive and gender justice issues. I invested time in ensuring that questions of access, laws and policies, and the Government’s obligations were carefully incorporated into the hypothetical problem for the law students to interrogate. 

This year’s moot competition created a platform for critical engagement on reproductive and gender justice as essential dimensions of social justice and public health. Through the hypothetical problem, participants examined government policies on access to reproductive health information and services, the State’s obligations to promote gender equality and equity, and Uganda’s policy, legal and regulatory frameworks governing reproductive health and gender justice. 

They interrogated the structural, institutional and procedural barriers that limit access to these services, particularly for marginalised and vulnerable groups such as adolescents, young people, survivors of sexual violence and women in rural communities. They also examined the extent to which the Government prioritises reproductive healthcare amid competing interests, inadequate budgetary allocations, religious and cultural considerations, and broader public policy interests. In their preparations and presentations, the students grappled with questions concerning reproductive autonomy, access to reproductive health information, gender equality, constitutional rights, cultural and religious values, the role of courts in protecting reproductive rights, and the potential and limitations of litigation as a mechanism for advancing reproductive justice. 

At CEHURD, our engagement with the law begins with a fairly simple premise: the law ultimately matters because of what it means in people’s everyday lives. Questions about constitutional rights do not ordinarily arrive neatly packaged as well-defined legal propositions. They emerge through people: the woman who reaches a health facility in an emergency and needs care; the young mother who must balance recovery from childbirth and caring for a newborn with the demands of her employment; healthcare professionals who must make decisions at the intersection of law, medical ethics, institutional policy, personal conscience and the needs of a critically ill patient; and women who experience violence within relationships that society ordinarily considers private. They also emerge through poverty, stigma, gender, culture, religion and unequal power, which influence whether someone can actually enjoy the fundamental rights that appear firmly guaranteed by constitutional law. 

These are not abstract constitutional questions. They are lived experiences encountered by ordinary people in our communities and, for those of us who choose careers in law, public health, human rights and public service, the kinds of realities that eventually arrive at our desks. They come through clients seeking legal advice, patients seeking healthcare, employees seeking protection, indigent people pursuing justice through the courts, and difficult questions requiring policymakers, duty-bearers and public institutions to determine how constitutional promises should operate in practice. 

For many women and girls, reproductive health challenges do not end at the doors of a health facility. Restrictive laws and policies, stigma, gender inequality and uncertainty about reproductive rights can have consequences for both physical health and mental well-being. The law therefore has an important role in determining whether women experience reproductive healthcare with dignity, autonomy and equality. Achieving better reproductive health outcomes requires more than service delivery; it also requires an enabling legal and policy environment and informed justice actors and lawyers capable of identifying and challenging barriers to women’s rights. 

Uganda’s constitutional framework places human dignity, equality and the protection of fundamental rights at the heart of the legal order. Yet an enduring challenge for any constitutional democracy is translating these guarantees into the lived experiences of ordinary people. Difficult questions often emerge at the boundaries between competing rights, interests and safeguards. 

It is imperative that we ask the tough questions. How do we reconcile religious freedom and institutional identity with the obligations owed to a person requiring healthcare? What does the right to equality mean when a woman experiences disadvantage because of pregnancy or motherhood? What responsibilities does an employer have when an employee returns from childbirth physically or emotionally vulnerable? When does an institutional policy cease to be an ordinary administrative rule and become a matter affecting fundamental rights? Ultimately, what protections should the law provide when negligence, abuse or another form of rights violation occurs within our communities? When different rights, values, norms and responsibilities collide, how should a court determine the appropriate constitutional balance? 

These questions cannot be answered by memorising constitutional provisions. They require lawyers who can move from facts to law, then to principle and, ultimately, to equitable justice. 

The moot competition was held on 24 and 25 September 2026, bringing together 17 universities. It followed practice directions designed to give students a comprehensive courtroom experience and prepare them for future litigation. The competition comprised four stages: the preliminary oral rounds, in which all 17 universities participated; the quarter-finals, involving the eight best-performing universities; the semi-finals, involving the four best-performing universities; and the final round, in which the two remaining universities competed. Fourteen sitting judicial officers presided over the competition, offering students guidance drawn from their wealth of experience. They included magistrates, High Court judges, and Justices of the Court of Appeal and Supreme Court of Uganda. 

The moot competition is unique because it provides a learning platform for students, judicial officers, partners, the media and other stakeholders. It allows participants to witness firsthand the tension between law and policy, on one hand, and women’s lived realities and experiences, on the other. 

Although the moot problem is fictional, it provides the intellectual freedom to examine difficult questions closely connected to the realities ordinary people encounter in society, without presupposing the answers. At CEHURD, we are interested not only in developing students who can moot effectively, but also in contributing to the growth of a generation of lawyers capable of engaging with some of the most difficult questions confronting our society. 

During the competition, the law students examined the gap between constitutional guarantees and women’s lived experiences and tested how competing claims involving autonomy, culture and public interest should be weighed. Their arguments reflected the purpose of the competition: to develop a legal profession that engages with reproductive health issues thoughtfully and from a rights-based perspective. 

Today’s law students will become tomorrow’s advocates, judicial officers, prosecutors, policymakers, academics and public officials. Exposure to reproductive justice questions at university level therefore contributes to shaping the legal profession they will join. 

Beyond the moot competition, there is a need for the Government to enact progressive laws on sexual and reproductive health and rights (SRHR) in Uganda, develop supportive reproductive health policies and strengthen the implementation of existing protections for women and girls. Access to information and services remains essential, as does reducing stigma, integrating mental well-being into reproductive health interventions, strengthening accountability mechanisms, and continuing to invest in legal education and public interest advocacy. 

Improving women’s reproductive health requires simultaneous attention to healthcare, law, dignity, autonomy, equality and mental well-being. The moot demonstrates one way of investing in the legal ecosystem needed to achieve these outcomes.

As an organiser of the competition, I believe its success should not be measured solely by which university lifted the trophy, but also by what participating students carry into their future roles within Uganda’s justice system. 

The writer is a Lawyer and heads the Strategic Litigation Programme at the Centre for Health, Human Rights and Development (CEHURD). 

Behind the Bench: A First-Time Clerk’s Experience at the 13th Annual National Inter-University Constitutional Law Moot Court Competition 

By Buregeya Rodney Edgar 

I still remember the exact moment I realised what I had signed up for. I was standing in Katonga Hall at Hotel Africana, clutching a stack of case files and trying to recall the correct protocol for calling a case. In the same room, seventeen universities were preparing to argue one of the most sensitive constitutional law questions in Uganda today. And I, a first-time moot court clerk, was about to become part of the machinery that would make it all run. 

Long before I stepped into the competition room, the weight of the moot problem had already settled on me. The theme, “Reproductive and Gender Justice in Uganda: Navigating Constitutional Rights, Public Interest and Social Values,” was far from abstract. The fictional State of Ngetta stood accused of failing to provide essential reproductive health services and establish a legal framework enabling young women and girls to access these services. The respondents defended age and parental consent requirements as legitimate protections for children. 

As a clerk, my job was not to argue either side, yet I found myself drawn into the arguments in ways I had not anticipated. The questions the mooters raised about maternal mortality, consent and the State’s constitutional obligations were questions that Ugandan courts continue to grapple with. I was not just facilitating a competition. I was watching the next generation of Ugandan lawyers wrestle with the future of reproductive justice in their country. 

The Machinery Behind the Moot 

People often think of a moot court competition as a matter for oralists and judges. The clerk’s role may be largely invisible to outsiders, but it is an essential link that holds the whole competition together. I was responsible for facilitating the smooth running of proceedings, calling cases, managing time and keeping the lines of communication open between the bench, the registry and the teams. 

It sounds administrative, and it is, but it is also deeply legal. When a judge asks for a case file, the clerk must know which file, which volume and which page. When a team’s time is running out, the clerk must signal without disrupting the flow of argument. When a panel retires to deliberate, the clerk must ensure that every mark sheet is accounted for and that the integrity of the process is safeguarded. 

There were moments when I felt like a stagehand in a theatre, unseen but essential. Then there were moments when a judge would look at me and say simply, “Call the case,” and I would remember that the theatre of law is not theatre at all. The procedures, discipline and decisions of the courtroom carry real significance, even in a simulated setting. 

The Atmosphere of the Courtroom 

Nothing prepared me for the intensity of the preliminary rounds. The room was not a real courtroom, but it carried the same gravity. The mooters, many of them in their twenties, stood before judges who had spent decades on the bench. The panel for the final round comprised Supreme Court Justice Hon. Lady Justice Catherine Bamugemereire, retired Justice Hon. Stephen Martin Egonda Ntende, Court of Appeal Justices Hon. Geoffrey Wilfred Kiryabwire and Hon. Lady Justice Eva K. Luswata, and Hon. Lady Justice Aisha Naluzze Batala. 

The fact that judges of that calibre gave their time to a student competition told me something about how seriously the Ugandan judiciary takes this moot. 

I watched oralists who had clearly spent months preparing. I watched them stumble, recover and regain their footing. I watched judges challenge them with questions that had no easy answers, and I saw courtroom discipline, professional dress, decorum and punctuality upheld as essential professional standards. 

As a clerk, I had the privilege of seeing the competition from a vantage point that few others had. I saw the nerves before a round and the relief afterwards. I saw the quiet conversations between teammates in the corridors. I saw the judges’ faces as they deliberated and the seriousness with which they approached their deliberations. This was not a game to them; it was a rehearsal for the real work of constitutional advocacy in Uganda. 

What I Learned About the Law 

The 13th CEHURD Moot was, for me, a crash course in a kind of law that does not always get taught in a lecture hall. I learned that the best oral advocates do not simply recite prepared submissions; they argue, listen to the bench and adapt. They know when to press a point and when to concede one. 

I also learned something about the relationship between health and human rights that I had not fully grasped before. The moot problem was not hypothetical in any meaningful sense. The issues it raised, including access to emergency services, the legal framework for adolescent reproductive health and the tension between parental authority and young people’s autonomy, are live questions in Uganda. The CEHURD Moot provides a platform for future lawyers to examine these questions and prepare to address them through the law. 

The Human Side of the Bench 

Perhaps the most unexpected part of my experience as a clerk was the humanity I witnessed. There was the judge who, after a particularly tense round, took a moment to commend a mooter for their composure under pressure. There was the team that lost a round but still stayed to watch the next one, notebooks open and ready to learn. There was the quiet pride on the face of a coach whose students had demonstrated how far they had come. 

And there was the moment, after the final round, when the results were announced. Islamic University in Uganda, Females Campus, was declared the winner, having competed against sixteen other universities. The room erupted. The winning team’s joy was genuine, but so was the disappointment of the runners-up. I stood at the edge of it all and felt something I had not expected: gratitude. Gratitude for having been part of something that mattered. 

What it Means to Be a Clerk 

I did not argue a single case at the 13th CEHURD Moot. I did not draft a memorial or deliver an oral submission, but I was there. I was part of the machinery that allowed the arguments to happen. I was, in my own small way, a custodian of the process. 

CEHURD recognised the contributions of the law students, coordinators, clerks and judges who made the 13th edition possible. That recognition matters because the law is not shaped only by those who argue and those who judge. The administration of justice also depends on those who help keep the process honest, orderly and fair. 

I came into this moot competition as a first-time clerk, uncertain of what to expect. I left with a deeper understanding of the law, a profound respect for the advocates who argued their cases and a renewed commitment to the kind of legal work that CEHURD exists to promote. 

The 13th Annual National Inter-University Constitutional Law Moot Court Competition was more than a competition. It was a reminder that the law, at its best, is a tool for justice. I am grateful to have been behind the bench, witnessing that pursuit unfold. 

About the author 

Edgar is a Legal Clerk at the Center for Health, Human Rights and Development (CEHURD). 

LEAVING OUR CERTAINTIES AT THE DOOR: Reflecting On The 13th Annual National Inter-University Constitutional Law Moot Court Competition (24–25 September 2026) 

A CEHURD Moot Coordinator’s Perspective 

By Esther Dhafa 

A story that refused to stay hypothetical 

Every year, as CEHURD plans and convenes the Annual National Inter-University Constitutional Law Moot Court Competition, a hypothetical moot problem is drafted that, although fictional, speaks directly to the realities many young people in Uganda face in exercising their reproductive and gender justice rights. 

This year’s moot problem centred on Awiti, a fifteen-year-old netball captain in the fictional State of Ngetta, who sought contraceptives at her local health centre but was ignored and turned away because she lacked parental consent. Weeks later, after becoming pregnant, experiencing a family breakdown, ingesting a concoction of bleach and shoe polish, and undergoing two attempted unsafe procedures, Awiti eventually died while being transported in the only available ambulance, which had been unavailable the previous night because of another emergency. 

Although the Republic of Ngetta was imaginary, Awiti’s reality was not. Under the moot theme, “Reproductive and Gender Justice in Uganda: Navigating Constitutional Rights, Public Interest and Social Values,” students from different law schools and universities across Uganda spent two months preparing to examine the complex legal and ethical questions raised by her story. Their preparations culminated in two days of intense engagement at Hotel Africana in Kampala. Over those two days, we at CEHURD watched these young legal minds grapple with difficult questions and step beyond their comfort zones to discuss sexual and reproductive health and rights (SRHR), a topic that many people still find difficult to discuss openly or fully understand. 

Out of the classroom, off the bench 

In CEHURD’s Moot Competition, students are the main participants and remain at the centre of the experience. Many arrived with well-developed memorials, having spent time preparing and memorising their submissions and arguments. Yet, when the questions began, some voices trembled, despite their thorough preparation and understanding of the key issues surrounding reproductive and gender justice. 

The justices on the final panel on the second day balanced firmness with encouragement, offering clear guidance that helped prepare the students for the realities of appearing before courts as future advocates. 

Justice Geoffrey Kiryabwire drew an analogy between the moot and a football match, reminding the students that they had only twenty minutes to “score their goal” by presenting their arguments effectively. He explained that “dribbling around the pitch” without advancing a clear argument within the allocated time could leave the judges missing the point. 

Lady Justice Aisha Naluzze Batala observed that some submissions sounded more like dissertations than court arguments. However, she encouraged the students, acknowledging that they had raised some good points and urging them not to be embarrassed by the feedback. Instead, they could use it to refine their arguments and improve their advocacy skills. 

We also saw judicial officers, including magistrates and judges, step beyond their usual courtroom settings. During this year’s Moot Competition, the preliminary, quarter-final and semi-final rounds were presided over by nine magistrates from selected Chief Magistrates’ Courts and Magistrates’ Courts across Uganda. They played an important role in guiding the law students through a subject that many Ugandan courtrooms still approach with caution. 

His Worship Osauro John Paul reminded the mooters that “lawyering is about persuasion.” Her Worship Kambedha Lydia encouraged them to concede points where necessary and honestly acknowledge gaps in their arguments, offering a valuable lesson in professional integrity and effective advocacy. 

The final round was presided over by five senior judicial officers from the High Court, Court of Appeal and Supreme Court of Uganda. Presenting their arguments on the hypothetical problem before these judges brought the mooters’ experience closer to that of an actual courtroom. It was a challenging yet exciting opportunity to engage with judicial officers whom many might otherwise encounter only later in their legal careers. 

Setting bias aside 

The greatest challenge during the Moot Competition was neither the students’ nervousness nor their familiarity with courtroom procedures. It was conviction. 

Sexual and Reproductive Health and Rights (SRHR) is not a subject that many people discuss neutrally, and the moot did not pretend otherwise. The Attorney General’s case, as presented in the moot problem, emphasised child protection, parental responsibility, and religious and sociocultural values – principles that many Ugandans hold deeply, including some of the participants. 

The competition was designed to ensure that no team remained on the more comfortable side of the argument, as each had to present the case for both the applicants and the respondents. A law student who privately believed that adolescents should be able to access contraception had to develop the strongest possible legal argument for why parental consent was not necessary in the circumstances presented. Conversely, a student who held a different view had to defend that position. 

To promote fairness and minimise potential bias, the Moot Competition uses confidential codes to identify participating teams, with University names omitted from memorials and oral submissions. 

In a field such as reproductive and gender justice, which touches deeply on matters of faith and identity, anonymity gave every team an opportunity to have its arguments assessed on merit. This was particularly important given the different religious affiliations of participating Universities. Some faith-based institutions, often assumed to favour one side of the debate, demonstrated through their legal arguments that justice and rights-based reasoning can be learned and applied when arguing either side of a case. 

The bench modelled this impartiality, too, with judges repeatedly reminding participants that a court cannot decide a case on empathy alone but must apply the law. Lady Justice Aisha Naluzze Batala noted that access to contraceptives for minors must be considered alongside cultural and societal values. 

Through these discussions, we observed the participants’ growing ability to consider competing perspectives while using the law as their anchor. The strongest arguments did not present one position as the only truth. Instead, they examined the State’s blanket age and consent requirements against constitutional guarantees of dignity, life, equality and non-discrimination, while also considering the need to protect children. A central question was whether these requirements genuinely served the best interests of the child or risked exposing her to further harm. 

Key lessons and reflections 

From my experience coordinating the moot, I have learnt over time that advocacy is as much about listening as it is about making arguments. It requires listening before judging. 

Her Worship Ariokot Esther Joyce reminded the mooters that winning the competition was not about who “cited the most laws”. In moot court, as in legal practice, effective advocacy requires identifying the real question behind a judge’s questions and responding directly. 

Justice Eva Luswata also encouraged the students to organise their submissions into short, clear points and summarise facts in their own words. These practical skills are essential to effective legal argument and professional practice. 

The Moot Competition also made it clear that difficult cases, particularly those involving issues that are misunderstood or deeply contested, are very real. As lawyers and advocates at CEHURD who continuously litigate such matters in court, we know that reproductive and gender justice cases are profoundly difficult to adjudicate. Seeing law students experience and grapple with that difficulty, rather than gloss over it, was one of the moot’s quiet victories. 

It is no wonder that Justice Kiryabwire encouraged the students to state their arguments clearly and let the judges decide, and to attend actual court sessions early in their legal careers. 

Our digital campaign, which ran under the hashtags #CEHURDMoot2026 and #ReproductiveJustice, generated 199 posts and 8.32 million potential impressions. The judges’ reflections and the students’ voices helped extend the conversation to audiences who might never otherwise step into a moot courtroom. 

Why the Moot matters 

The impact of the moot becomes visible gradually. It emerges in a young lawyer or law student who remains composed when a judge challenges an argument, in the growth of students’ understanding and the improvement of their oral submissions, and in a judge or magistrate who has had an opportunity to think deeply about SRHR and adolescent health rights before encountering a real case involving similar issues. 

Our aim has always been to build a movement of young lawyers and advocates equipped with the skills to litigate health and reproductive justice cases in the future. 

Sadly, Awiti’s story in the hypothetical moot problem ended in tragedy. Timely access to healthcare, a functioning ambulance, or an appropriate legal and policy framework on reproductive justice might have prevented her death. However, the students who argued her case will not leave the experience unchanged. Although not all of them will become health and human rights litigators, they will carry Awiti’s story with them. They will also have learnt to approach difficult cases fairly and rigorously, setting aside their own convictions to engage with competing perspectives. This is a skill worth carrying into any classroom, courtroom, or community. 

Conclusion 

Throughout the competition, the mooters demonstrated that effective advocacy requires a sound understanding of the facts, the ability to identify the core issues in a case, clarity in presenting arguments to the court, and an awareness of the people whose rights are at stake. The winning teams exemplified these qualities. 

At the 13th Annual National Inter-University Constitutional Law Moot Court Competition, Uganda Christian University (UCU), Mukono, received the award for Best Memorial, while the Islamic University in Uganda (IUIU), Kampala Campus, received the award for Second-Best Memorial. Alison Faith Kitimbo emerged as the Best Oralist. 

The overall champions of the Moot Competition were the Islamic University in Uganda (IUIU), Females Campus, with Uganda Pentecostal University (UPU), Fort Portal, emerging as the first runner-up. 

The writer is a Lawyer/Advocate and Moot Coordinator, Center for Health, Human Rights and Development (CEHURD). 

At the Margins of Justice: Adolescent SRHR in Uganda 

By Monicah Kurwenza

The 13th Annual National Inter-University Constitutional Law Moot Court Competition provided a lens through which to examine Uganda’s fractured reproductive rights landscape. This article analyses the systemic tension between rigid statutory provisions governing adolescent sexual and reproductive health and rights (SRHR) and the public health realities on the ground. It reflects on the structural denial of reproductive health information and services, the constraints faced by the judiciary, and progressive legislative developments in the region. 

Held on 24 and 25 September 2026, Law students gathered to argue under the theme, “Reproductive and Gender Justice in Uganda: Navigating Constitutional Rights, Public Interest and Social Values.” Standing before a formidable panel of justices, students engaged in complex constitutional arguments about whether State-imposed parental consent requirements for minors seeking contraceptives could violate fundamental rights, including the right to life. Yet, a sobering message emerged from the discussions: these are profoundly difficult areas to adjudicate. The presiding judges emphasised that, as jurists, they must operate within the law and the constitutional framework. This highlighted the painful systemic gap between legal limitations and human survival. 

This tension between legal rules and public health realities is particularly evident in rural districts. In Uganda, adolescents in rural communities face a dual crisis; limited access to rights-based sexual and reproductive health (SRH) information and significant structural barriers to accessing services.

Consider the reality of a 15-year-old girl clutching a torn school notebook, trying to blend into the shadows of a crowded waiting room. With limited access to reliable information, partly because of restrictions surrounding sexuality education, she attempts to access modern contraceptives to protect her future, only to encounter an invisible wall. Because domestic guidelines remain unclear or fragmented in their application, healthcare workers may demand parental consent or act as moral gatekeepers out of fear of administrative sanctions. Denying an adolescent confidential information and care does not halt sexual activity; it leaves her more vulnerable to unintended pregnancy, child marriage and disrupted opportunities. 

When preventative measures fail, Uganda’s legal framework on abortion can further complicate the situation. Article 22(2) of the Constitution provides that no person has the right to terminate the life of an unborn child except as may be authorised by law. The Penal Code Act also contains provisions restricting the termination of pregnancy. The interaction between these provisions, the scope of lawful abortion and the practical guidance available to healthcare workers remains an important subject of legal and public health discussion. 

This legislative uncertainty persists despite landmark public interest litigation, such as Constitutional Petition No. 16 of 2011 (CEHURD & Others v. Attorney General), which addressed failures in maternal healthcare and the State’s obligation to protect constitutional rights. Where legal uncertainty persists, healthcare workers may fear criminal liability, and the gap between the law and access to appropriate care can have devastating consequences. 

While affluent women may be better positioned to access private healthcare, impoverished adolescents may have fewer options and face greater risks when seeking to terminate an unintended pregnancy. The consequences can be devastating, particularly for those who experience complications and require emergency care. Behind these outcomes are young lives affected by barriers to information, timely healthcare and appropriate support. 

This situation stands in contrast to regional legislative developments. Rwanda has recently taken steps to lower age-related barriers to accessing reproductive health services. 

In August 2025, Rwanda’s Parliament passed a Health Services Law that lowered the age for independently consenting to reproductive health services from 18 to 15. This reform offers a relevant point of comparison for Uganda as it considers how legal frameworks can respond to adolescents’ healthcare needs. 

Conclusion 

The law students who competed demonstrated the potential of the next generation of lawyers to navigate complex constitutional questions. Beyond academic competition, the value of the 2026 CEHURD Moot lay in its capacity to bring the human consequences of legal and institutional barriers into focus. By centering the moot problem on whether State-imposed age and parental consent requirements for adolescents seeking contraceptives violate fundamental rights, including the rights to health and life, CEHURD opened up important discussions about public health challenges that stigma often keeps hidden at the community level. 

The competition drew attention to the everyday SRHR challenges confronting adolescent girls in Uganda, demonstrating that limited access to information, parental consent barriers and unsafe attempts to terminate pregnancies are not merely legal hypotheticals but matters of survival. The discussions also underscored that, while courts have an important role in interpreting and enforcing constitutional rights, lasting change requires action beyond the courtroom. Fulfilling the spirit of this year’s theme requires coordinated action by legislative and administrative policymakers to address the legal and practical barriers that prevent adolescents from accessing appropriate reproductive healthcare. 

The writer is a Lawyer and Project Legal Officer in the Strategic Litigation Department at the Centre for Health, Human Rights and Development (CEHURD).

A “Live-Fire Exercise in Advocacy”: Lessons from the 13th CEHURD Moot 

By Ajilong Brenda Joyce 

As a Project Legal Officer in the Strategic Litigation Programme at CEHURD, I had always thought of a moot court as a “student competition.” However, watching a Supreme Court Justice pose a sharp constitutional question to a law student whose voice trembled with nervousness changed that perception. I realised that this was far more than a competition, it was a rehearsal for the demands of real courtroom advocacy. 

The 13th CEHURD Annual National Inter-University Constitutional Law Moot Court Competition was held in Kampala from 24 to 25 September 2026. I had the privilege of attending the competition, which brought together law students from 17 universities to compete under the theme, “Reproductive and Gender Justice in Uganda: Navigating Constitutional Rights, Public Interest and Social Values.” 

A “Rehearsal” for the Real Courtroom: The Weight on the Bench 

The composition of the final-round bench was enough to make any practising lawyer nervous. The panel included Supreme Court Justice Hon. Lady Justice Catherine Bamugemereire, Hon. Retired Justice Fredrick Stephen Martin Egonda Ntende, Court of Appeal Justices Hon. Justice Geoffrey Wilfred Kiryabwire and Hon. Lady Justice Eva Luswata, and the Inspector General of Government, Hon. Lady Justice Aisha Naluzze Batala. 

These judges were not merely playing a role in a simulation, they brought experience from actual courtrooms and legal disputes.

When Justice Bamugemereire began asking questions, the atmosphere in the room changed. Her questions moved beyond abstract legal principles and challenged students to consider the limits of judicial intervention. One question asked, “If the government claims insufficient resources, to what extent should the court intervene in policymaking?” I have heard this kind of question asked many times in constitutional cases litigated by CEHURD. 

The Inspector General of Government, Lady Justice Naluzze Batala, was equally direct, observing that many participants “sounded more like they were presenting a dissertation than making a court submission.” Her observation captured a central lesson of the competition, knowing the law is not enough, an advocate must also communicate legal arguments clearly, directly and persuasively. 

The Power of Procedure: From Robes to Time Management 

As a Legal Officer, I paid particular attention to whether the students followed courtroom procedures. CEHURD’s competition rules explicitly require participating teams to appear fully robed. This was not merely a matter of formality. When students put on their robes and stood before the bench, the distance between a moot court and a real courtroom seemed to shrink. 

The structure of the competition also reflected the demands of litigation. During the preliminary rounds, each team argued as both Applicant and Respondent. Each round was limited to 20 minutes, with the Applicant permitted to reserve up to five minutes for rebuttal. These time limits required participants to prioritise their strongest arguments, manage their time and respond strategically to the opposing side. 

The hypothetical case in the final round concerned a fictional East African state called Ngetta, which was accused of failing to provide emergency health services and establish a legal framework guaranteeing young women and girls access to reproductive health services. This hypothetical case was not fabricated out of thin air. CEHURD chose the theme precisely because Uganda has real policy and legal gaps in the area of reproductive health rights. As CEHURD’s Deputy Executive Director, Noor Nakibuuka Musisi, put it, the moot problems “are usually drawn from the challenges we see in practice.” 

The Judges’ “After-Class Tutoring”: The Moment More Important Than the Result 

After the competition ended, the judges did not immediately leave the bench. Instead, they gave the students feedback, an opportunity for learning that would rarely arise in a real courtroom. 

Justice Kiryabwire advised the students against telling judges, “I want to persuade you.” “Is it by force?” he asked. “You state your arguments and let the judges decide for themselves.” He also encouraged students to start attending real court proceedings early in their legal careers. Some universities had already begun taking students to observe court hearings and even allowing them to ask questions after the sessions. 

Justice Luswata offered advice on a more technical level: students should not read facts verbatim but should learn to summarise them in their own words. As she advised, “A short, precise statement is far better than a fast, lengthy one.” 

For me, this feedback highlighted the gap between learning legal principles and applying them in practice. In my work at CEHURD, I have seen that knowing the law does not automatically translate into effective courtroom communication. Advocates must learn to organise their thoughts, answer questions directly and make their submissions accessible to the bench. The judges’ feedback gave the students an opportunity to understand and practise these skills. 

Conclusion 

The Islamic University in Uganda (IUIU), Females Campus, ultimately won the championship, Alison Faith Kitimbo was named Best Oralist, and Uganda Christian University received the Best Memorial award. However, for many students, the most important gain was not a trophy but the experience of “standing in court” before senior judicial officers. 

Working at CEHURD, I know that the future of our litigation work also depends on whether the next generation of lawyers is prepared to take on complex cases. Watching senior judicial officers take the students’ submissions seriously brought home the importance of exposing young advocates to the standards and expectations of real courtroom practice. The competition was not merely a contest; it was an investment in the next generation of constitutional litigators. 

When a student, after being pressed by Justice Bamugemereire, took a deep breath, reorganised their thoughts and gave a more precise answer, I did not see failure. I saw the growth of a future lawyer. 

The writer is a Project Legal Officer in the Strategic Litigation Programme at the Centre for Health, Human Rights and Development (CEHURD).