I remember the excitement when online shopping platforms started gaining popularity in Uganda. Finally, we were joining the global e-commerce revolution! No more battling Kampala traffic to visit crowded markets or shopping malls. The future had arrived, and it promised convenience at our fingertips.
Or so I thought.
Several years into this “revolution,” I find myself questioning whether we were truly prepared for this shift. My adventures in the Ugandan online shopping wilderness have left me both amused and frustrated beyond words.
Last week, I needed a new laptop stand for my home office setup. After unsuccessfully searching through physical stores in Kampala, I decided to try my luck online. I joined several Ugandan e-commerce Facebook groups and scrolled through dozens of posts advertising everything from shoes to electronics.
Then I found it—a sleek, adjustable laptop stand that looked perfect. The seller had posted multiple high-quality photos showing the product from various angles. The description mentioned “premium materials” and “ergonomic design.” My excitement quickly faded when I noticed what was missing: the price.
“Interested,” I commented, following the apparent protocol of these online spaces.
“DM for price,” came the swift reply.
Ah, the infamous “DM for price” – as if the price is some sort of state secret! Like, how in the Lord’s world am I supposed to follow you up to get information on the product that you are already advertising? What is the purpose of the advertisement if it is not to attract prospective buyers with complete information about your product?
I reluctantly sent a direct message, only to receive: “How soon do you need it?”
“Within the week,” I replied.
“Where are you located?”
After explaining I lived in Ntinda, the conversation continued with questions about my profession, what type of laptop I owned, and whether I needed any “additional accessories” before the seller finally revealed a price that was nearly double what I had expected.
When I mentioned this seemed high, the response was, “But this is premium quality, not Chinese.” When I asked about specifications or materials to justify the premium price, I received vague assurances of “the best quality” but no concrete details.
Is it a sort of entitlement — that the seller knows you have all the time and are extremely excited to purchase their product, and that they are the only supplier so you cannot go anywhere else? This back-and-forth wasted both my time and theirs, and I’ve since learned that this practice actually interrupts the buying process, especially for impulse purchases.
But let’s be fair – customers aren’t innocent either. Then there are the lazy ones who go on to ask for the price, even when it is written on the product or stated at the beginning of the post. This clearly shows their only focus is on the picture, rather than the entire post. I’ve seen sellers patiently answering the same “how much?” question ten times in comments when the price is clearly stated in the caption. Banange, just read!
Even worse are those who ask the same question that three, five, or many other people have already asked and received answers to. Just take 30 seconds to read through the comments before adding yours!
Social media is also flooded with angry, frustrated bullies who will embitter anyone and anything they come across. The desperate faultfinders will vent and throw their anger on people’s posts. They will do all it takes to mislead others into thinking that there is a cheaper alternative product or place to buy whatever is being sold. “This is too expensive! I saw it in Kikuubo for half the price!” they’ll comment, without considering quality differences or the convenience being offered.
But back to the sellers – this practice of hiding prices does more harm than good. It instantly gives a shady vibe. How different would your shopping experience be if you went to Shoprite and found shelves with no prices? When there’s no price indicated, I consciously or subconsciously assume the product is expensive or outside my price range and continue scrolling.
This wasn’t an isolated incident. The Ugandan online shopping experience has become a strange dance of hidden prices, mysterious product specifications, and sellers who seem more interested in qualifying you as a buyer than providing basic information about their products.
Why has our online shopping culture evolved this way? Perhaps it’s rooted in our traditional market haggling culture, where prices are fluid and negotiable. As one online vendor put it, “There is always someone willing to give a cheaper service or product, hence makes our prices seem high.” Or maybe some sellers believe that “The most interested ones inbox, DM or take the contact and get in touch.”
But in a digital marketplace that should thrive on efficiency and transparency, these practices create unnecessary friction. While globally, e-commerce moves toward one-click purchasing and transparent pricing, we’re stuck in endless DM conversations that often lead nowhere.
The infrastructure challenges don’t help either. Unreliable internet connections, complicated payment systems, and the perpetual challenge of describing delivery locations in a country where street addresses are often nonexistent all add layers of complexity.
“Just drop it at the boda stage near the big mango tree” is a perfectly reasonable delivery instruction in Uganda, but it’s hardly the streamlined experience promised by e-commerce.
And then there’s the delivery drama. We have unscrupulous customers that disappear and change their minds after receiving a delivery, yet from the onset they had agreed to pay for the delivery service. This leaves sellers with trust issues, which might explain their lengthy qualification process before revealing prices.
Perhaps most frustrating is the lost potential. Uganda has one of the youngest, most tech-savvy populations in Africa. Our mobile money adoption rates are impressive. We have entrepreneurs with incredible products and services. Yet our online shopping experience often feels like we’ve digitized the most inefficient aspects of traditional commerce rather than embracing what makes e-commerce transformative.
Don’t get me wrong—there are bright spots. Some local businesses have created professional online shops with clear pricing, detailed product information, and relatively smooth delivery processes. As one satisfied customer put it, “I always post my prices and customers always call me when they need something and those who can’t afford it don’t. It’s the most humane thing to do.”
But these transparent sellers remain the exception rather than the rule. As another frustrated shopper noted, “No matter how good your product is and how interested we customers are, the minute I see ‘DM’ I lose interest because I don’t see why you don’t put the price and I have to DM you… Yes, you get clients but trust me, you lose many more.”
For now, I’ve returned to the familiar chaos of physical shopping. Yes, I’ll battle traffic and wade through crowded markets, but at least I’ll know what I’m paying before I invest my time.
Were Ugandans really ready for online shopping? The infrastructure might be here, but culturally, we’re still figuring out how to adapt our traditional commerce practices to the digital world. Until we embrace transparency and efficiency, our e-commerce revolution remains incomplete—a digital façade over analog habits.
So, the next time you advertise on social media, kindly desist from asking us to “Inbox for price.” And shoppers, please read the post before asking questions that have already been answered. We all need some civility in this online shopping jungle.
As for my laptop stand? I finally bought one from a physical store. It cost more than I wanted to pay, but at least the price was on the tag—no DM required.
TAGS:
Uganda Facebook marketplace, online shopping frustrations, hidden prices online, Kampala online sellers, Uganda e-commerce challenges, digital shopping culture, Ugandan online business, transparent pricing, online shopping behavior, Uganda digital marketplace
