Shanrah Nansubuga is ready to cash in on her older flock during Christmas. PHOTO/ABDUL-NASSER SSEMUGABI
If you frequent TikTok or Instagram streets, the name Shanrah Nansubuga may sound familiar. It is of that slender girl who proudly flaunts her beach body like many girls her age—whether dancing or just posing before the lenses.
But she’s more than just a pretty face—she is the ideal picture of a small body, and big dreams. After Advanced Level at Masaka SS in 2021, her father wanted her to study nursing or education. But she refused.
Instead, she briefly worked with a friend at a betting company, and saved some money, which she later pooled with another friend to venture into poultry. She does not regret it. “The main goal in education is jobs and money. I have them both.”
When Nansubuga joined poultry proper in November 2022, she was not a beginner per se. She had learnt basics from her grandmother, who reared chicken of all breeds for years. “Sometimes even our school fees came from poultry,” she said.
Nansubuga’s business partner was even more knowledgeable because besides studying agriculture at university, he grew up doing it at his parents’ farm in Kigoogwa on Bombo Road.
Why layers?
Nansubuga and partner started with 1,000 layers in 2022. Now their flock should have been around 4,000 birds, but some died. They had tried broilers until 2021 and chose to specialise in egg production.
Nansubuga said the test for one investing in layers is persevering through the first five months before they start serious laying.
After that, she said, she can break even—meeting all her feeding costs and making some profit. “And I’ll be in business daily, for nearly two years.
Her business partner painted it clearer: “To make serious money out of broilers, you must go large scale and be consistent. Ensure you have a batch to sell every week because the profit margin on broilers is small.”
Plus, broilers are expensive to manage, labour-intensive and delicate, Nansubuga said. They rear the ISA Brown layers, a Dutch breed touted as a global super star for “exceptional feed conversion and is capable of laying up to 500 first quality eggs.”
They also thrive in different climates, poultry management styles and housing systems. They start laying at 18 weeks (4.5 months) and in a few weeks, they will have passed the 50 percent mark.
Nansubuga’s partner said if 1000 hens lay for 18 months, you can expect at least 13 months of profits, after recouping operational capital of about Shs20m.
Their first flock reduced to over 800 and after two years its egg productivity has dropped from 20 trays a day to 15. They will be sold off during Christmas. “That’s more money,” he said.
Cage vs deep litter
Nansubuga’s first flock started in a deep litter system—covering the floor with a thick volume of coffee husks or wood shavings to absorb the chicken droppings. But she prefers the cage system.
A new cage that houses 100 chickens can cost you Shs1.6m, while a used one goes for Shs1.2m. Though expensive in the short run, she said, in the long run it becomes cheaper. And it can last 20 years.
Advanced cage systems provide for automatic feeding, drinking system, egg collection and manure removal.
But Nansubuga uses manual A-type or pyramid layer cages.
Her birds access food by stretching their necks through the mesh into the feeders outside the cage. Beneath the feeder is a pane into which the eggs gather immediately they are laid, waiting to be picked up. This minimises egg loss or damage.
The poop drops through the mesh onto the polythene on the floor, which is rolled out every three days, cleaned and returned to duty.
That saves her the expenses on bedding, like husks, and the labour needed to replace it occasionally. But most importantly, it minimises the risk of disease because birds won’t get into contact with infectious poop.
“And due to limited interaction, the sick ones can easily be identified and isolated before the disease spreads.”
In her cage, there are about three or four hens in one cell, so if she’s keen, she can find out which ones don’t lay. There’s no such chance in a deep litter flock of identical birds.
She added that caged birds eat less. “The ones in deep litter eat a lot because they are more active—roaming, flying. It’s healthy for them, but costly on farmer.”
Most layers are debeaked to minimise cannibalism and egg pecking. But Nansubuga’s newer flock of about 3000 was saved that pain, but they are harmless.
This is just a fraction of the 70 trays Shanrah Nansubuga picks from her flock every day. PHOTO/ABDUL-NASSER SSEMUGABI
Eggs in a cage system are said to have a higher risk of blood spots, but Nansubuga has no idea. Even the eggs she gave us did not have a single spot inside. “Maybe those blood spots are caused by the feeds, not cages,” she said innocently.
Nipples vs drinkers
Her birds entered the cage at three months. Didn’t they struggle accessing water by licking the steel ball nipples in the roof of the cells?
“Not really. That nipple is red with shining metal. So, curiosity tempts the chicken to lick it and when water drips, it drinks and the others follow.”
Nowadays, she no longer worries about washing the drinkers daily or replacing polluted water. That also reduces on disease escalation because the birds outside a particular cell won’t come into contact with the contaminated nipple.
Cutting costs
Nansubuga said 1000 birds need eight 20-litre jerrycans of water, which is 160 litres daily, meaning the 4000 birds need 640 litres daily. That would have been costly. But she doesn’t pay a penny for water. The water is drilled from the ground, stored in a plastic tank a few metres outside the chicken pen, before it’s transferred into another tank inside the chicken house, where vitamins and antibiotics—when necessary—are added. Then it goes through a filter to the smaller cans on the sides off each cage pyramid, into the nipples.
For some time, they fed the chickens on maize (broken and bran), soy cake, sunflower, limestone or shells, and a layers’ concentrate. On average, a kilogramme cost them Shs1800 to Shs2000 depending on the cost of inputs.
They needed a cheaper formula for flock that eats about two tonnes a week. Nowadays, they cut out bran, soy cake and the concentrate, cutting the average cost per kilo to around Shs1300. And it will reduce further, when the maize prices fall.
“It’s our secret formula we bought at $200 from a guy on the internet,” Nansubuga said. Soon, they will be selling feeds using this formula—another revenue stream.
Beware of fakes
Like most livestock farmers, Nansubuga has not survived fraudsters in the feed market. “Sometimes they adulterate soy with say, maize bran, and the chickens reject it. Sometimes, they’ll give you bad maize.”
One day, she took five tonnes of maize to miller. But during packing the operator was cheating her of some kilogrammes. “I realised that the first bags he packed before I came were underweight. I told him, and he changed.
So, you must be keen.” And she never returned to that miller. Poor feed can be instantly counterproductive. The afternoon we visited Nansubuga’s farm, her chickens had refused to eat the feed. The maize was too big. Someone had to rush to town to fix the problem. “They are sensitive to feed and you don’t want to gamble with them,” she said.
Expensive feeds vs cheap eggs
For the past few months, the farm gate price of tray of eggs is Shs8500 to Shs8800, while a kilogramme of maize had even exceeded Shs1500. It’s a tricky dilemma for commercial farmers, because ordinarily, a rise in cost of production should have triggered a rise in egg prices. But this is a seasonal problem, which coincides with a huge supply of eggs on the market.
Eventually, many farmers who can’t break even sell off their stock, which later creates a scarcity of eggs in about two months. That’s when the farm gate price of a tray reaches Shs12500.
Shanrah Nansubuga picks the eggs twice a day. PHOTO/ABDUL-NASSER SSEMUGABI
So, if you have the working capital, Nansubuga said, don’t sell off your layers. “Because while our profit margins reduce in this crisis, we are not making losses.”
Market dynamics
At first, Nansubuga and her partner counted on large scale buyers from Kisenyi, who bought eggs in bulk and paid a lump sum in advance. “But they paid a much lower price than the retailers.” The “Nowadays, we sell directly to the retailers and our clientele is growing. Customers are from diverse places like Sseguku, Kitintale, etc.” And all pick the eggs from the farm. So, she incurs no delivery costs.
She charges small scale retailers an extra Shs1000, “Because they usually sell each egg at Shs500 no matter the season.” Nansubuga also turned down a contract to sell her eggs at Shs9000 per tray to a sole buyer. “What if I fail to produce the eggs he wants at a particular time?” Or what if a tray reaches Shs12500 and the contract dictates Shs9000?
Typical workday
When we visited her farm, Nansubuga wore cargo pants, a white polo shirt and a sky-blue cap. Upon feeding the chickens, she only needed gumboots. For much dirty work, she wears gloves to protect her neat decorated fingernails.
Her day starts at 6am, when she switches on the lights and gives the chickens their first meal. They feed up to 10pm, when the lights go off. The eggs are picked twice: around 1pm and 4pm. The younger flock lay 55 trays, the old one 15 every day.
She does not do it alone. There’s Auntie, an old lady, and Brian, a young hard working boy. “They are not workers. They are partners. We lose together, win together.”
Social media presence
“At first, I used to post for fun,” she said of the early videos of her farm work. Soon, people started taking her seriously, separating her from the average content creators who post wine yet water is all they can afford.
“Some contacted me, seeking training opportunities, others wanted advice on how we do it,” she said. For farm visits and simple talk, she charges Shs75,000. For those who want serious training, she refers them to the bigger farm in Kigoogwa.
Nansubuga is proud that her job does not compromise her social media image. Many recognise her the “chicken girl.” At first it felt funny. Now she’s proud. “And some of my customers came from TikTok.”
Start small, with a purpose
“We want the business to grow into a company, do consultancy,” Nansubuga said. They have already embarked on another branch in Garuga, on Entebbe Road. She also plans to get exclusive business management training, but not from a lecture room.
To whoever wants to join poultry, especially layers, her advice is simple: have a clear purpose. And plan. If it requires saving first, do it.
“Buying the chickens is easy. Feeding them to maturity is the real test,” she said. And don’t start with the attitude of just trying: “Because if you fail in the first season, you may never bounce back. Otherwise, be ready to do it again and again, until you succeed.”
There are challenges in the industry, but she said: focus on the positives. And whenever her faith flickers the reminder is inked on her right forearm: Think Positive, Shanrah.
