In the stalls of Kampala’s hidden markets and the corners of private WhatsApp groups, a curious trade is quietly booming.

Silicone pregnancy bumps. Padded hips. Artificial breasts. They arrive wrapped in black polythene, passed hand-to-hand with the discretion of contraband, yet their purpose is anything but hidden: to reshape the body, rewrite a life story, or play a role that reality has refused to grant.

Vendors talk of “mothers-to-be” who never visit antenatal clinics, and beauty enthusiasts who want curves that nature skipped.

Social media feeds drip with “perfect” hourglass silhouettes, while offline, silicone and padding fill in the blanks.  For some women, it’s a tool of confidence. For others, it’s a calculated deception—a nine-month performance that ends without a newborn.

In Uganda, as in several African societies, motherhood is more than a personal milestone. It’s a badge of respectability. A woman without a child is often seen as incomplete.  For some, faking a pregnancy becomes a way to buy time: to keep a marriage intact, silence gossip, or satisfy in-laws’ expectations.

Others are drawn in by the globalised beauty gospel—an hourglass figure, the perfect hip-to-waist ratio, and curves that sell both in selfies and in real life.

Access the EXCLUSIVE story here>>> Silicone delusions: Inside Kampala’s fake beauty bonanza