

15 August 2025, 5:01 am
By Sarah Acio Acak- Radio Apac
In Apac District, a wave of mistrust is threatening the lifeline of Uganda’s health system — voluntary blood donation. What began as whispers in the community has now grown into open defiance, with some residents refusing to give blood, alleging that it is later sold to patients at exorbitant rates.
For more than 10 years, Ms. Paska Akullu, a resident of Apac Municipality, had faithfully donated blood — often without hesitation. But her commitment ended abruptly. “I have been donating blood for over a decade. But when a patient needs blood, especially in government hospitals, they are told there is none. They are then referred to private clinics where blood is sold for about 55,000 shillings per unit,” she told Radio Apac in an exclusive interview.
Her claims echo through the words of Ms. Angela Okello, another long-term donor whose child suffers from sickle cell disease. Despite her regular contributions to blood banks, Okello says she often has to pay for her child’s transfusions — sometimes as much as 150,000 shillings for three units. “It’s heartbreaking,” she said, calling for a thorough probe into how donated blood is handled at Apac General Hospital.
Trail of Questions
The allegations point to a deeper issue: If blood donation in Uganda is free, how are patients ending up with hefty bills for transfusions?
Under Uganda’s health guidelines, all donated blood is collected and distributed through regional blood banks, free of charge. In northern Uganda, the Gulu Regional Blood Bank is the central distribution hub. According to its Senior Laboratory Technician, Mr. Polycarp Ojok, the sale of blood is illegal and strictly prohibited.
“Only three private facilities in Apac are authorized to receive blood from us — Apac General Hospital, Nightingale Hospital, and Apac Nursing Home. Blood is not for sale. If we find that any facility is charging for blood, action will be taken,” Mr. Ojok emphasized.
But on the ground, patients and their families report a different reality. Multiple accounts suggest that while the “blood” itself may be free, patients are told to pay for “associated costs” — a grey area where transparency appears to fade.
The Defence from Accused Facilities
Dr. Alex Oula, proprietor of Apac Nursing Home — one of the named facilities — denied the sale of blood outright. “Blood is free. What we charge for are the logistics — testing, refrigeration, transport — not the blood itself,” he explained.
Yet, for many in Apac, this distinction offers little comfort. In practice, the so-called “logistics fees” can be prohibitively high, especially for low-income families facing medical emergencies.
The Silence from Authorities
The Ministry of Health has yet to issue an official statement, despite growing public outcry. Meanwhile, Gulu Regional Blood Bank says an investigation is being launched, but no timeline has been given for its conclusion.
Bigger Implications
If the allegations are proven true, it could mean that donated blood — meant to save lives — has become entangled in profit-making practices, eroding public trust. For communities like Apac, where blood shortages can already mean the difference between life and death, the fallout could be devastating.
As the probe begins, questions remain unanswered: How closely are authorized facilities monitored? Are “logistics fees” being used as a loophole to mask the sale of blood? And perhaps most importantly, how many patients have already suffered because they could not afford to pay?
Until these questions are addressed, residents like Paska Akullu are standing firm in their boycott — a silent protest against what they see as a betrayal of one of the most basic principles of healthcare: that the gift of life should not carry a price tag.
“The production of this story was made possible through financial support from the Finnish Foundation for Media and Development (VIKES), in partnership with the Uganda Media Women’s Association (UMWA)”