A life in law turned into activism: Adrian Jjuuko

Adrian Jjuuko calls himself an “accidental activist”. For him, activism was never part of a master plan. Born in Uganda into a family marked by poverty, loss, and illness, he grew up with an intimate understanding of marginalization. When he entered law school, the pieces fell into place.

“I know how it feels to go hungry, to live on the streets, to want to go to school but not be able to says Adrian Jjuuko. Growing up surrounded by poverty made him sensitive to inequality long before he had the words for it.

“Human rights gave me a framework to understand what I had lived, and it was liberating”. That framework quickly turned into action. Trained in law, Jjuuko imagined a path of courtrooms, books, and perhaps academia. What he did not foresee was that the realities of working as a lawyer in Uganda would draw him into battles that were as much about justice as they were about survival. Research on LGBT rights then an uncharted and dangerous field in Uganda pushed him into activism. Before long, he was leading a national coalition against the Anti-Homosexuality Act, one of the most repressive laws in Uganda’s recent history.

Today, Jjuuko is one of Uganda’s most recognizable human rights lawyers. He is the Executive Director of the Human Rights Awareness and Promotion Forum (HRAPF), an organization he helped shape into a strong voice in the country’s civil society. Through HRAPF, he has challenged laws, defended those without defenders, and slowly built networks of resilience in a context where advocacy often comes with high personal and political costs.

Life as an activist

Adrian Jjuuko’s early career did not look like the life of an activist. He studied law because he loved discipline, thus the structure, the logic, and the way it offered rules to organize society. But very quickly, he saw the other side of the law the way it was weaponized against vulnerable groups. “Law can be used as a tool of oppression, but it can also be reclaimed as a tool of liberation”. That paradox has defined his career ever since.

The turning point came when he was drawn into cases that few others wanted to touch. Defending communities that were criminalized, stigmatized, or simply ignored required courage, but it also required careful strategy. “Sometimes it’s not about avoiding the truth but about finding the language that keeps the conversation alive, words can open doors, but they can also shut them”.

For Jjuuko, the law and activism became inseparable. He could not research legal frameworks without seeing the lives they affected, nor could he advocate for justice without grounding his work in solid legal reasoning. What began as an “accident” turned into a vocation, a belief that the law must be bent, challenged, and sometimes rewritten to reflect human dignity.

Navigating repression

Uganda is not an easy place for activism. Repressive laws, political hostility, and everyday risks mean that human rights defenders are constantly negotiating how far they can go. Jjuuko speaks of it as a kind of weather system that activists must learn to read when to raise your voice loudly, when to keep a lower profile, and when to push directly into legal confrontation.

“You just keep responding to what’s happening around you, sometimes you work openly and sometimes more discreetly, but you never stop”.

This persistence has shaped HRAPF’s identity. Under Adrian’s leadership, the organization has provided legal aid to thousands, fought landmark constitutional cases, and carved out space for human rights in a context where space keeps shrinking. Victories are rarely absolute, and setbacks are common, but for Adrian even small gains are meaningful. “Every small victory chips away at the structures of oppression” he insists, “And each one matters”.

The burden and the joy of activism

Living in this space comes with sacrifices. The personal toll of activism long hours, threats, and the constant demand for resilience cannot be ignored. Yet Adrian Jjuuko speaks about his work without bitterness. Instead, he sees activism as both exhausting and life giving. “It’s tiring” he admits. “But it’s also deeply fulfilling to know that you are part of something bigger, that what you do makes a difference in people’s lives”.

Jjuuko points out an incident where his organization was raided and their security guard murdered as the lowest point of his career. As he called it, “a senseless death” that still haunts him. Inside his office, a large iron clawbar used to break the door was found astride his chair, drawers ransacked, and his passport was laid out on the table in what felt like a warning. And later the police files disappeared. Just like that, threats became routine. But walking away was never an option. As he said, “Someone has to do this, and if I am in the position to do it, then I must”.

Despite the daily difficulties, he addressed one of the highest moments was the Constitutional Court’s 2014 ruling that nullified the Anti-Homosexuality Act. “It felt like a personal fight, that victory showed that persistence matters, even in hostile places.”

Jjuuko is also clear that activism is not about individual heroism. It is about building networks of solidarity, both locally and internationally. HRAPF’s successes, he emphasizes, have always been collective. “One organization or one person cannot do this work alone, you need alliances, you need people who stand with you, you need others who remind you that you’re not alone”.

Finding strength in networks

This is partly why Adrian Jjuuko values forums such as the Bergen Exchanges on law and social transformation. Organized annually by the Centre on Law and Social Transformation, a joint CMI/University of Bergen initiative, the Bergen Exchanges brings together academics and practitioners to discuss human rights and development. Jjuuko is a regular presence at these gatherings, and the 2025 edition, covering themes from autocratization and democratic resistance to the need to rethink human rights and international law, was no exception. For him, these are not just academic gatherings but rather sources of strength. “The networks we form here matter deeply; they are lifelines places of solidarity and learning. In contexts where repression is heavy, simply knowing you are not alone makes a real difference”.

He describes these exchanges as moments of reflection, where activists and scholars alike can step back from daily battles to consider the broader picture. They are also reminders that activism in Uganda is connected to struggles elsewhere. “The challenges may look different in Norway or in South Africa but the bigger fight for equality, for dignity is the same”.

A life committed to justice

For a man who never set out to be an activist, Adrian Jjuuko has become one of Uganda’s most important voices for human rights. His path forged through hardship, risk, and conviction shows that sometimes activism chooses you, not the other way around. Despite threats and setbacks, Jjuuko insists he remains hopeful. “History bends toward equality, it may take time, maybe longer than our lifetimes, but justice always wins in the end.”