Janel Nakigozi is finding freedom on four wheels—and showing a new generation of girls that moving forward does not mean leaving your identity behind.
Every constellation begins with a single point of light.
On Sundays, when the streets of Kampala loosen their grip and the city moves a little more slowly, Janel Nakigozi steps onto her skateboard.
The wheels begin to turn. Her gomesi catches the air behind her. Colour, fabric and tradition move through the city alongside concrete, traffic and the low hum of wheels against the road.
At first, the image feels unexpected: a skateboarder gliding through Kampala in a traditional Ugandan dress. But watch for a little longer and the two begin to feel inseparable.
This is not tradition standing still.
This is tradition in motion.
The first push
Janel first stepped onto a skateboard in 2013, while she was still at school. A friend arrived with a board and challenged the students around her: anyone who could stand on it without falling would be allowed to keep it.
Janel stepped on.
She did not fall.
The friend ultimately kept the skateboard, but introduced Janel to a coach named Kizza, who connected her with other skaters. Later, he gave her an old board of her own. Skateboards were difficult to find, but Janel loved hers enough to quietly bring it into school on Saturdays whenever she had the opportunity to ride.
Before her group had regular access to a skatepark, they practised on a basketball court in Saza. A purpose-built park in Mukono later gave them a place to gather, learn and spend hours repeating the movements that slowly turn uncertainty into instinct.
A foot placed forward.
A careful push.
A moment of imbalance.
Then another attempt.
Confidence is rarely discovered all at once. More often, it is built through small acts of courage repeated until they begin to feel like freedom.
Wearing her identity forward
For years, Janel skated without attracting much attention beyond the communities around her. Then she and her collaborators began exploring ways to present skateboarding differently.
They eventually arrived at the gomesi.
Traditionally worn by women in Uganda, particularly within Baganda culture, the gomesi is a floor-length dress recognised by its structured shoulders, square neckline and sash. It is closely connected with ceremony, heritage and cultural identity.
For Janel, wearing it was never simply about creating an unusual image. She has described the choice as a way of embracing her identity as a Muganda woman, carrying her culture into the spaces she enters and creating something that represents women.
“I feel like I’m bringing women together,” she explained in an interview with The Observer.
The contrast is what first makes people look: the flowing silhouette of the gomesi against the sharp geometry of a skateboard.
But the deeper message is one of harmony.
Janel does not have to remove one part of herself to explore another. She can be traditional and experimental. Graceful and fearless. A professional woman, a creative and a skater.
Identity does not need to become smaller to make room for a dream.
It can travel with us.
A family on wheels
Janel usually skates through Kampala with friends, particularly on weekends when the roads are quieter. She describes the skateboarding community as a family—a place to reconnect after a demanding week, move through the city together and experience the simple joy of riding.
That sense of belonging is central to Uganda’s skate culture.
Community organisations including Skate and Grind and the Uganda Skateboard Society help skaters find equipment, organise competitions, document their work and bring people of different ages together to practise and learn. Janel credits these groups with helping the country’s skate community grow.
The movement has deep grassroots foundations. More than a decade ago, photographers visiting Kitintale documented a skatepark built by local young people on family land. Boards and protective equipment were limited and frequently shared, but the park had already developed a powerful feeling of collective ownership and belonging.
That story is still unfolding.
In February 2026, a new 450-square-metre public skatepark opened in Kiteezi, created through collaboration between local skaters, community groups and international partners. Its free programming is expected to serve more than 100 young people each week, with a particular focus on girls’ participation and youth empowerment. Skate and Grind was among the Ugandan skate groups represented at its opening.
Every board shared, every lesson offered and every girl welcomed into the circle becomes part of something larger.
Permission to be seen
Janel’s life extends beyond skating. During the week, she works as a valuation surveyor, carrying out property inspections, and she also runs a makeup business. The skateboard comes out most often on weekends, woven into a life of work, creativity and responsibility.
Perhaps that is another reason her story resonates.
She is not waiting for a perfect life in which to pursue what she loves. She has made space for it inside the life she already has.
And each time she moves through Kampala, unmistakably herself, she makes that possibility visible to somebody else.
A girl does not need to see her exact future represented before she begins. Sometimes she only needs to see that another way of moving through the world is possible.
That she is allowed to take up space.
Allowed to try.
Allowed to fall without becoming a failure.
Allowed to carry her history while travelling towards something new.
Janel’s advice to younger skaters is simple: remain determined, stand for what you believe in and continue even when others dismiss what you are doing because it seems unfamiliar.
A skateboard cannot remove every boundary.
But it can teach you how to meet the ground, find your balance and push forward again.
The first point of light
There is something quietly powerful about watching Janel skate.
The gomesi moves with her rather than holding her back. The city becomes a place of possibility rather than simply a route from one responsibility to another. The skateboard becomes more than an object beneath her feet.
It becomes an invitation.
To the girls watching, it says: you belong here too.
To anyone who has felt caught between where they come from and where they wish to go, it says: bring both.
And to all of us, it offers a reminder that a single act of courage can travel further than we imagine.
One girl steps onto a board.
Another sees her.
A point of light appears.
Then another.
And slowly, a constellation begins.
With gratitude to Janel Nakigozi and to @skateandgrind__ for nurturing an inclusive, joyful and growing skate community in Uganda.
The first point of light. More stories to come.
