In the sprawling landscape of the Kyaka II Refugee Settlement in western Uganda, the rhythmic clinking of metal tools against engine blocks is creating a new soundtrack for female empowerment. Among the grease-stained overalls and heavy machinery, Elina Iraguha stands as a testament to a quiet but profound revolution. For Iraguha, a mother to a five-year-old daughter, her daily routine involves more than just survival in a displacement camp; it involves dismantling the long-standing barriers that have historically kept women out of the mechanical workshop. When she speaks to her young daughter about her day, she does so with the pride of a student who has found her true calling. “I tell my daughter I’m in school, too. I’m learning, too,” she says, reflecting on her journey into the male-dominated world of motor vehicle mechanics. For Iraguha, the choice to pursue this career was not a matter of convenience, but a deliberate act of defiance against gendered expectations. She chose mechanics because she wanted to earn a sustainable living and prove to her community that a woman’s success is not limited by the field she chooses to enter.
Iraguha’s story is woven into the broader fabric of the Kyaka II settlement, a place that has become a permanent home for many who fled conflict in neighboring countries. Born in Rwanda, Iraguha has lived in the settlement since she was just a year old. Her life, like so many others in the region, has been defined by the constraints of refugee status, where opportunities for advanced education and professional growth are often scarce. However, a transformative intervention by UN Women is changing that narrative. Through the “Second Chance Education” program—a collaborative effort with Peace Winds Japan and supported by significant funding from the Government of Japan—women in refugee settlements and host communities are being equipped with marketable vocational skills. This initiative is designed to do more than just provide jobs; it aims to foster self-sufficiency, psychological resilience, and long-term stability in a region that has seen decades of upheaval.
The importance of such programs extends beyond individual economic gain. Experts in international development have long noted that economic empowerment for women is a cornerstone of peace and security. When women in refugee settings gain the ability to earn an independent income, the ripple effects are felt throughout the entire community. Pathways to sustainable livelihoods promote local harmony, reduce the likelihood of domestic conflict, and provide a buffer against the systemic poverty that often fuels regional instability. As these women gain independence, they naturally begin to reinvest in their surroundings. Whether it is paying for a younger sibling’s tuition, launching a small business that employs others, or simply acting as a role model for the next generation of girls, their success becomes a catalyst for collective upliftment.
Among Iraguha’s peers is Ange Shokano, whose path to the workshop was paved with the hardships of forced displacement. Shokano arrived at Kyaka II in 2019 after fleeing the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). Her family’s escape was a matter of life and death, as their village was frequently targeted by armed rebel groups. As the second-born of seven children, Shokano felt the weight of responsibility early on. While she found the peace and safety she sought in Uganda, the lack of financial resources soon threatened her future. Two years ago, she was forced to drop out of traditional schooling because her family could no longer afford the tuition fees. In many contexts, this would have been the end of her educational journey, but her mother saw a different path. It was her mother who first encouraged her to look toward the mechanics program, recognizing that while they lacked the money for academic degrees, the gift of a trade could provide Shokano with a lifetime of security. “She said, ‘I don’t have money to keep you in school, but you can go for this training, and this will help you sustain yourself,’” Shokano recalls.
For Iraguha, the fascination with automobiles started long before she entered the program. As a young girl, she watched cars pass through the settlement with a sense of wonder, but she noticed a glaring disparity: while women were often seen driving, they were almost never seen repairing the vehicles. This observation sparked a sense of injustice and curiosity. She questioned why the technical maintenance of transport was reserved solely for men. Today, she views her participation in the course as a way to bridge that gap. Her expectations are high; she sees the program not just as a series of lessons, but as the foundation of a future business empire. Her ultimate dream is to move beyond being an employee and become a workshop owner, creating a space where she can dictate her own professional destiny.
However, the journey into a “man’s world” is rarely without internal and external friction. Shokano admits that when she first stepped into the training center, she was plagued by self-doubt. She worried that she lacked the physical strength required to lift heavy parts or maneuver large tires. But as she began the hands-on work, her perspective shifted. She realized that the perceived barriers were largely psychological. “It’s you that poisons your mind,” she says. “I realized I could do anything.” She discovered that modern mechanics is as much about technique and the right tools as it is about brute force. Changing a tire, she notes, doesn’t require massive muscles; it requires the correct application of a jack and a focused mind. This realization was a turning point, transforming her from a hesitant student into a confident technician.
External perceptions have also proven to be a hurdle. Iraguha faced initial resistance from her own family, specifically her father. When she first shared her plans to become a mechanic, his reaction was one of traditional skepticism. He viewed the work as fundamentally masculine and urged her to leave such tasks to her brothers. It was only after she insisted on being allowed to try that his stance began to soften. As he watched her successfully navigate complex repairs and demonstrate a natural aptitude for the trade, his skepticism turned into pride. Yet, Iraguha remains realistic about the community’s broader views. She acknowledges that many people in the settlement still harbor a fear of “tough” women who perform manual labor. She laughs off the idea that her skills make her intimidating, choosing instead to focus on her internal motivation. She knows that in the end, the quality of her work will be the only argument she needs to win over the skeptics.
The technical progress these women have made in a short time is remarkable. After just one month of intensive training, Shokano and Iraguha have already mastered the intricacies of tire repair and braking systems. The six-month curriculum is rigorous, designed to take them from novices to certified professionals. Upon completion, the program provides each graduate with a specialized toolkit, ensuring they have the physical resources necessary to start their own enterprises or secure immediate employment. This transition from training to trade is a critical component of the UN Women strategy, ensuring that education leads directly to economic agency.
Looking toward the future, Iraguha’s ambitions are expansive. She doesn’t just want a job; she wants to build an institution. She envisions a large-scale workshop that can accommodate up to 50 learners at a time, with a specific focus on training other women. She wants to dismantle the myth that mechanics is a “man’s job” by showing that it is simply a skill—one that anyone with the will to learn can master. Shokano shares this vision of collaborative success. She hopes to form a garage collective with her fellow female trainees, allowing them to pool their resources and expertise to dominate the local market. For her, the message to other women is clear: find a skill that allows you to be the architect of your own life, whether that is in a garage or a hair salon.
As the international community reflects on the importance of education, the stories coming out of Kyaka II serve as a powerful reminder that learning is the ultimate tool for liberation. For women like Shokano and Iraguha, education has been the key to unlocking doors that they once thought were permanently sealed. Their journey from the uncertainty of displacement to the precision of mechanical engineering is a testament to what is possible when institutional support meets individual grit. In the grease and the gears, they have found more than just a career; they have found their agency. “Education is the key,” Shokano says with finality. “Education is the key to the doors that had been closed in my future.” Through their hard work, those doors are now standing wide open.
