Shake your kabina! A musical, dancing tour of Uganda
The Culture of Uganda – in rhythm and dance
Tick-tick-tick goes the bamboo on the calabash.
Sh-sh-sh-shake the seeds in the gourd.
Thump-thump-thump thuds the stick on the taut hide of the drum.
The early evening air in the Ndere Centre’s ampitheatre fills with the rich, bass sound of the harp-like adungu.
Men beat the surface of the drum hard with the flat of their hands. The drumming rises to a crescendo as the women dancers elegantly descend the stairs into the open air Amphitheatre, all brilliant smiles and waving arms. And then it starts!
A group of twelve women shake their hips, moving to a joyful, seductive rhythm. They throw back their heads as they circle the floor to the sound of the dexterous plucking of the adungu. To one side of the stage, five men play a giant wooden xylophone.
Shake your kabina! The Culture of Uganda – in rhythm and dance. Photo courtesy of Stephen Legg
Ten drummers and acrobats in bark cloth tunics fly onto the stage, doing press ups and mock fighting and doing press-ups. They SLAP the sides of the drum with sticks. With big grins on their faces, the acrobats race towards the audience, arms flailing and legs akimbo, kicking left and right. Round and round they go. The energy of the Maggunju, the Royal welcome dance of the Baganda, holds the audience captive, ready for our musical and cultural tour of Uganda.
As our host – and cultural ambassador – Stephen Rwangyezi walks down through the audience to welcome us, a little white boy runs up to him and starts playing Stephen’s drum.
“Forget your problems – we are going to take you to the different parts of the country.” Stephen tells us. “Now WE are the donors” – he tells the predominantly Muzungu audience – as we have something in abundance to offer YOU!”
The Culture of Uganda – in rhythm and dance. Stephen Rwangyezi takes the audience on a musical, dancing tour of Uganda at the Ndere Cultural Centre. Photo Ndere.
In Western Uganda, it’s all about the cows.
We listen to the music played to relax the cows. “After walking 20 kilometres each way to drink water, wouldn’t you be stressed?” He asks. Even the okujumeera – the sound of cow mowing is developed into the singing while the thudding of their hooves – is reflected in the dance steps of Western Uganda.
Boys herding Ankole cattle
Through his anecdotes, Stephen reminds us of the continent’s enormous contribution to global culture. He illustrates how the traditional sounds of Africa can be heard in modern American rap music.
“Who is President Obama?” He asks, but “the Original Black African Managing America.”
We pass through Bunyoro and Toro “where love was first invented.”
We hear a haunting song from Ankole and then we move on to the upbeat sound of the West Nile and the adungu.
The Amphitheatre is filled with a frenetic whirl of colour and a flash of white teeth. KABINARIFIC! The women dancers whip up a storm on the dance floor. Fast and furious, how do the men play those drums so speedily? (I can’t even tap my fingers that fast).
Ndere Troupe Stephen Rwangyezi. The Culture of Uganda – in rhythm and dance. A musical, dancing tour of Uganda at the Ndere Cultural Centre. Photo Ndere.
We can’t pass through West Nile without a historical anecdote, of which there are many interweaved throughout the evening. Of Idi Amin, Stephen says “when he was in the country, people were scared. When he was out of the country, people were embarrassed.” He recounts how, time and again, cultural and language blunders rolled out of the then president’s mouth.
Later in the show, children are invited onto the open stage. 27 kids of all ages listen attentively to Stephen’s every word. It’s an unexpected highlight of the evening to see him invite each child to do their turn in the circle. I find it extraordinary to think that not so long ago this dancing was banned. (Even now colonial legislation still exists in Uganda that in theory makes traditional dancing illegal).
As the show draws to an end I recognise the unmistakable whistles of the music that made me first fall in love with Uganda.
The male dancers wear bright green beads around their waists over imitation (I hope) leopard skin tunics. Long colourful beads drape over their shoulders, criss-crossing at the waist. Their headdresses have white tuft-like tails. The women wear thin strings of beads around their foreheads.
“If you dance together you can never be at war.”
Shake your kabina! The Culture of Uganda – in rhythm and dance. Photo courtesy of Stephen Legg
The dancers genuinely seem to love what they do. There’s a great camaraderie and joking around between the dancers and Stephen. Their passion and playfulness is contagious.
How many shows are there in Uganda that you would rush to see more than three times?
“When people in our culture dance, you don’t let them suffer alone – you join in!” So just remember, next time you feel stressed, do as Stephen suggests: “shake your seating facilities.”
The Muzungu recommends:
Watching the Ndere Troupe perform takes me back to my first Kampala night out, courtesy of VSO. The show is a fantastic introduction to Uganda. It’s a real celebration of Africa and everyone should see it. I remember sitting on the edge of my seat thinking, “I’m finally here. I’m in Africa!”
The colour, the energy, the smiles and the humour, the stories… the whole experience was everything I’d imagined Africa to be and more.
Ndere Cultural Center entrance fees
Last published entrance fees below. Please check with the booking office first. Buffet dinner, snacks and drinks are available.
- Adult Ugandans 30,000/-
- Adult Non Ugandans 50,000/- or $ 15
- Children Aged 2 to 15 – 15,000/-
**Note: These prices do not include buffet
How to book to see the Ndere Show
Ndere Cultural Centre is on Plot 4505, Kira Road, Ntinda – Kisaasi Stretch
This article was originally commissioned by the Empazi Magazine, the brainchild of Ugandan creative Arnie Petit.
Have you visited Kampala’s Ndere Center yet? What was your favourite part of the show?
Interview with a rebel: Ugandan cultural activist Stephen Rwangyezi
Interview with a rebel: Ugandan cultural activist Stephen Rwangyezi
Stephen Rwangyezi is a fantastic storyteller with a compelling stage presence. What is more, he is a living, breathing – dancing! – Encyclopaedia of Ugandan culture.
In Uganda, Stephen is most famously known as the force behind the Ndere Cultural Centre and the Uganda Development Theatre Association. Internationally, he is perhaps better known for his role in the film The Last King of Scotland.
I was delighted when the Empazi Magazine commissioned me to interview Stephen Rwangyezi. Here are some highlights of our conversation: undoubtedly the most illuminating three hours of my five years living in Uganda.
We discussed dance and development; the impact of colonialism on traditional culture; the issues of homosexuality and born-again Christians; and that all important question: can you teach the Muzungu how to dance like an African?
Stephen Rwangyezi Ndere Centre.
Of culture: “every day there is something new to be discovered – you can never finish learning about it. It is fathomless.” The Culture of Uganda – in rhythm and dance. Photo Ndere
A former school teacher turned Rural Agricultural economist, Stephen was the Director of the Uganda National Theatre and Cultural Centre from 1990 to 1994. In 2006 he played the character of Jonah Waswa, Idi Amin’s Minister of Health, in the film Last King of Scotland. He is a published author, with a string of films and documentaries to his name.
So Stephen, how did the Ndere Troupe come into being?
It was a practical response to the deep seated anger that had built inside me since childhood – seeing the great arts that gave me most genuine pleasure being derogated as primitive, backward and symbols of evil worship.
When I started the Ndere Troupe, I had two major goals. One was to restore dignity and integrity in the music and dance of Ugandan and African origin, and raise it to the status and look that it should be. For me, that loss of cultural pride was a disaster which led to the loss of self confidence and personal worthiness. So one of my main goals was to ensure that pride and dignity could be rekindled through dignified and artistically beautified cultural activities. The second goal was to work with disadvantaged boys and girls. It was child labour that kept me out of school until I was 15 years of age, but playing the flute got me into, and saw me through, school. Therefore, I wanted to organise boys and girls who had similar talents to mine and ensure that, rather than begging and moaning, they could utilise their talent capital to self actualisation.
In 1987 when I went to my village for a cousin’s wedding ceremonies, I noticed that there were groups of boys who feared HIV AIDS, known as ‘Slim’ in those days. Many people believed it was witchcraft but they had heard of something called a condom, which could kill Slim. So, the young men put some money together to buy one condom, and they used it in turns…. Something that was useful was now becoming dangerous.
I then asked myself: “How do I tell as many of these young people, as quickly as possible, that what they are doing is suicide?”
At that time in Uganda, there was only one newspaper, one radio station and only one TV station that only worked for four hours per day – all based in Kampala. Given that over 87% of the population lived “beyond the last mile” and were illiterate, I decided to use the familiar, attractive and friendly cultural music, dance and drama to spread the message.
Uganda was later credited for having brought down the incidence of HIV AIDS. This was how we did it.
Early performance of Ndere Troupe. The Culture of Uganda – in rhythm and dance. A musical, dancing tour of Uganda at the Ndere Cultural Centre. Photo Ndere
The Ndere Cultural Centre and the Uganda Development Theatre Association
Ndere Cultural Centre has spawned a whole industry and nurtured a whole generation of talented dancers. Dancing, as I quickly found out, is a small part of a much bigger movement.
As with many Ugandan stories, the story of the Ndere Cultural Centre starts off under a mango tree, when a choirmaster and his students agreed to create a performing group that would “change the terrible image painted by colonialists that traditional dances were evil and that whoever performed them could never see eye to eye with God.”
This was in 1984. The group agreed to name themselves the Ndere (‘flute’) Troupe, since it was Stephen’s talent as a flute player that had saved and educated him. The flute was also perceived as the most unifying musical instrument, since it existed in every culture of the world. The group wanted to demonstrate to Ugandans (and the world) who had been engulfed in tribal wars for centuries that we all can share common beauty which already exists in our diverse cultures.
We decided to use music, dance and drama for other public education reasons. Later, when I was Director of the National Theatre, I still made sure I put on at least three plays a year, all across Uganda.
We realised that one group was not enough to effectively serve the whole country. The demand for the efficient dissemination of applied knowledge in different crucial fields was overwhelming. In 1997 the Troupe facilitated the creation of the Uganda Development Theatre Association. The UDTA grew like wildfire, and soon became a nationwide cultural network of development theatre groups, of which there are now 2,084 across Uganda.
Culture of Uganda. Drummers and dancers, Kikorongo, near Kasese / Queen Elizabeth National Park, Uganda
Through UDTA, we take ideas from the local groups and create a national competition, equipping young people with life skills. One of the elements for the national competition is that every member of each group has to do a project, such as growing tomatoes. They then use the music, dance and drama to teach the adjoining communities how to implement this successful project. During the festival, the groups bring their produce and look for a market. Thus UDTA is not only about artistic and public education but a means of developing skills for self-sufficiency.
What has been the key to making traditional dance popular again?
“First, I had to upgrade and update the artistic and design quality of the music and dances – to make them more organised and to appeal to contemporary and rather unaware tastes. Remember that previously, the church and school teaching derogated these arts and manipulated the law to prohibit public presentation of these arts. Therefore the only social dancing was at night – without light. This meant that no one bothered about the choreographic designs, costumes, stage organisations, melodic development etc.
Ampitheatre Ndere Cultural Center, Kampala. The Culture of Uganda – in rhythm and dance. A musical, dancing tour of Uganda. Photo Ndere
Once the artistic spectacle became impressive, I spent many years trying to get Ugandans to appreciate the beauty within traditional dance. I found the children not yet prejudiced therefore I offered free dance performances in primary and secondary schools. These had a wonderful reception. The Ugandan audience that we now have is the children of the 1980s that attended those free shows.
Secondly, every Sunday from 1988 to 2003 there was a free performance at the Nile Hotel (now the Kampala Serena Hotel). This helped to introduce these arts to the international communities, tourists and the middle class Ugandans that had returned from exile (having run away from the political turmoil that engulfed Uganda through the 70s and early 80s). The latter were rather nostalgic and keen to introduce their families to values they had long lost – and were therefore more receptive. This is how the audiences that now throng the Ndere Centre, hire us for social and corporate functions, or even invite us abroad, were cultivated
What do Ugandans of a certain age think about your cultural performances?
Throughout the entire colonial period and the post-colonial mismanagement, school, religions and government all worked hard to deliberately destroy Uganda’s cultural framework.
When I was growing up, The Idle and Disorderly Act (of 1918) forbade African dancing during the day. During the night, there was no electricity, so no one was looking at you dance. For that reason nobody developed the dances because you could only dance for yourself. The Witchcraft Act of 1957 was used to forbid the playing of drums and other traditional music instruments such as ensaasi (gourd rattles or shakers). Wearing of traditional attire and ornaments (such as bark cloth and cowry shells) was forbidden. These items were classified as witchcraft and therefore to be confiscated and destroyed by all law enforcing agents and law loving citizens – who inevitably were products of the same system.
Students at St John the Baptist PTC, Ggaba, Kampala performing traditional music and dance in celebration of conservation
Schools belonged to the church and the church ostracised anything cultural. It urged everybody to “shed off the old skin and be born again” lest one would end in the terrible smouldering eternal fire of hell. Children who were not baptised and confirmed in the schools’ faiths were not allowed in school. Practicing traditional arts was believed to be an indicator of low intelligence, which reflected inheritance of worse low intellectual capacity from one’s parents! What a stigma!
Even at university in Uganda, up to now, the Department of Music, Dance and Drama (MDD), is called Musiru dala dala in the vernacular, literally translated as ‘stupid through and through’. So, over time the “civilised” became antagonists against the growth of culture. The MDD in Uganda has degenerated to just accepting those who could not get admission for other professional courses, thus confirming the label of academic inability as the criterion for admission!
What other factors have helped turn this situation around?
From the days of Idi Amin and later, many people went into exile. While in the diaspora, they were confronted with cultural inadequacy and an identity crisis. On return to Uganda, they had nostalgia for their own culture, so they brought their children along to the Ndere Troupe to try and introduce them to what they had missed. We also took deliberate steps to channel some of own school sponsored troupe members into teacher training, so wherever they taught in primary schools they also taught traditional arts.
President Museveni has also helped. He has been culturally sensitive. Besides reinstating the cultural leaders and kingdoms, he regularly invites the Troupe to perform at functions. This raised the status of the troupe/traditional artists in the perception of the public, setting a new trend. More and more people and organisations started including these arts in their functions. The increased demand led more young and well educated people (especially Ndere graduates) to form more cultural troupes. Now you see that whenever there is a public function, there is always cultural dancing.
As if to prove the point, midway through the interview, Stephen answers his phone: Uganda’s Ambassador to Russia is booking seats for the Russian trade delegation.
“Yes your Excellency, we will see you at the show tonight.”
St John the Baptist PTC, Ggaba, Kampala students performing traditional music and dance in celebration of conservation
Top of my list of questions to Stephen was……. how do you select dancers? And can the Muzungu join too?
Recruitment is mainly for the talented and disadvantaged children whom the Troupe took tasks to look after and pay their school fees. Some dancers pay for their own training but the ones we stay with are those who really need it.
Most of the dancers go to school and others work in different places, so we only train on Sundays. None of them would come knowing all the dances. It takes time to learn them all.
For many people the Troupe is a big stepping stone. There are people who have stayed with us for 20 years and are now part of the management and training structure; but what is the use of education if you’re not going to be able to live on your own? The more people we can churn out, the better for the arts. This is development.
Can you teach the Muzungu how to dance like an African?
The centre is open to anyone wishing to learn how to dance. Some people come to us and ask “I would like to know how you shake your hips.”
“All us Muzungu girls want to learn African dance,” I say, and we laugh.
People ask if they can learn playing a specific musical instrument. Recently a lady came and asked if she could make an adungu. In her two weeks here, she made two.
The Culture of Uganda – in rhythm and dance. Young boys learning to play the adungu at Ndere Cultural Center, Kampala. Photo Ndere
Do you have any idea of how many dancers have passed through Ndere?
I have lost count. At the moment we have 72 dancers. It’s always been oscillating between 40 and 70 for the last 28 years.
I have just watched the show for the third time and it seems as fresh as ever. Does the show change much?
“While the structure of the show doesn’t change, we feature different dances of Uganda. These vary in rhythm, technique, purpose, use of body parts, costume, melody, lyrics and use of instruments.”
Stephen describes the show as “an exposition of Uganda” but it could equally be described as an exposition of Africa.
“Uganda is a microcosm of Africa”, he explains. This is not only a result of the movement of tribes and speaking of different languages but the diverse lifestyles of these peoples that has led to evolution of different types of music. The sedentary crop-grower has a house in which he can safely store delicate or large instruments, such as a drum or an adungu. For the cattle-keeper who is constantly on the move, “their music is composed of very light melodies and they carry flutes, fiddles and zithers. When you set the cows grazing, you don’t have anything else to do but sit, thus their music is poetic, based on the lyrics rather than the rhythms. Because Uganda is endowed with natural resources and good weather suitable for all these economic activities, all the African peoples are represented here and their art is performed by Ndere.”
I hear you are working on a new production. What is it about and what is it called?
The play is about the wider perspective of corruption: the ones who are being arrested in Uganda are not the ones who are corrupt nor the originators of corruption.
I normally don’t name plays until I’m finished. For now it’s called Goat’s Ears, from a traditional saying, that if I put the goat’s ears on me, the leopard can hate me, thinking I’m a goat.
Traditional dancing Uganda. Girl students performing dance. Shake your kabina! The Culture of Uganda – in rhythm and dance.
What are your views on the 2012 play that got banned for featuring a homosexual character? People argue that homosexuality doesn’t exist in Africa. What’s your view?
I didn’t get to watch the play read the script, but what I got was the reactions to the story.
Uganda is no different from the West, it’s just a question of timing. There was a time when you went to the West and if you talked about homosexuality, there were very serious repercussions. Now, it is acceptable and even legislated for. The other problem is the unprecedented publicity in the Western media which is being perceived here as deliberate promotion. The same West that persecuted homosexuals yesterday, whose churches ingrained in the brains of their followers that homosexuality was mortal sin, is now the one spearheading the justification for it. People here find this rather confusing, hypocritical and therefore question the intentions for the sudden reversal. The Ugandans who followed and vehemently promoted the Western Christian teaching (where God’s word never changes), castigating and suppressing such practices in the African societies, now find themselves abandoned by the same ideological masters. They are rather embarrassed and do not know how to make the round about turn – hence the fanatic opposition.
Homosexuality has always been here in Uganda; there were even homosexual kings. We have words for homosexuality in the local languages: how could society name something if it didn’t exist?
The main challenge is fanaticism exercised by the so-called ‘born-again’s who I think actually work contrary to the teaching of the same Jesus they profess to follow. Jesus Christ on the cross was open to views of different types of people of all denominations. He said “now it is over for all sinners;” the curtain that used to separate Jews from Gentiles in the temple was torn and the darkness that had engulfed the world vanished! So where do the Christians derive the moral authority to castigate the so-called perverts?
You played the role of Jonah Waswa, Idi Amin’s Minister of Health, in the 2006 film The Last King of Scotland. Would you recommend people watch this film before they come to Uganda, or would you advise against it?
Last King of Scotland film screenshot
The problem is when you watch a movie it can turn you off something. However, it might be good to watch the film and then come here and see how much has changed since then.
When I went to the film launch in London and was asked to speak on behalf of all the actors, I said: “This is the first good thing that Idi Amin has done for our country – pointing a light on Uganda in a more entertaining and educational way. Out of all the countries with despotic leaders, past and present, I’m glad that you’ve chosen to highlight Uganda.”
Which words would you use to describe yourself?
“Music and dance for me are the great books in which knowledge and philosophies were deposited over centuries.” Interview with Ndere Troupe creator Stephen Rwangyezi. Photo Ndere
“It’s not for me to describe myself, that is for others,“ he said humbly.
“There is a very subversive element to what you do,” I suggest.
“Absolutely. I’ve always known that I’m rebelling. I find that normally, people who create systems to conform to, are doing it for totally other reasons. What preoccupies me is trying to resist manipulative destruction, read the signs correctly and communicate for people who can’t do it for themselves before it is too late. That is what motivates me.”
What does the future hold for you?
“Our only worry for some of us is that we don’t have enough heirs. But at least we shall have done our bit.”
What is your message to the young people of Uganda?
The Culture of Uganda – in rhythm and dance.
I believe we all have something unique deep inside us. Look deep inside, find a dream you love the most and go for it. You can achieve a lot if you do not listen and bow to the discouraging forces. You can make an indelible mark if you do not try to be simply like the others. You have the energy.
Money makes things happen but it’s the motivation, the drive and the commitment that are important.
The Muzungu adds: Many thanks Stephen for taking the time to talk to me and Empazi Magazine. I could have sat all afternoon listening to you. I learned so much about Uganda’s history and culture.
This article was commissioned by the Empazi Magazine, the brainchild of Ugandan creative Arnie Petit.
Dear readers: If you haven’t been to Ndere’s excellent live show, you really must visit. It’s not just for tourists: last time I attended, the majority of the audience were African, from across the continent.
Have you seen the Ndere Troupe perform in Kampala? Can you play the adungu?
Were Toto right about Africa?
Were Toto right about Africa? Had they even visited Africa?
It’s been ages since I published a blog, hasn’t it Dearest Reader? Travel, IT problems, work commitments, the death of my beloved Baldrick – and plain old exhaustion – have taken their toll… but de Muzungu is back on form. I hope you can keep up?
Sunshine – and the promise of an evening filled with talk about Uganda and birds (and possibly even a sneaky little Uganda Waragi) – followed a captivating day at the UK Bird Fair. Driving along in evening sunshine, I follow Roger (driving the wrong way!) in his little red car.
I switch on the radio.
“Who would you like the request for?” Asks the DJ.
“Please play it for me and my husband who are going on Safari in Kenya this weekend.”
Negative African stereotype no. 1:
– The Caller pronounced it “Keeeenya,” the old colonial way.
“Sounds like the ‘holiday of a lifetime’!” Says the DJ.
“We’re taking a drive across the Rift Valley, then to the beach in Mombasa, hoping the pirates from Somalia don’t get us.” (The DJ agrees that being kidnapped by pirates would not make for a good holiday of a lifetime. Memory of a lifetime flashing before you, maybe!)
Negative African stereotype no. 2:
– Visiting the East African coast necessarily involves Somali pirates.
Negative African stereotype no. 3:
– We’re lucky that we know the Caller is going to Kenya, not just any old African country. She has no idea where in Keeeenya she’s actually going for her Safari.
“Where did you spend your honeymoon?” Asks the DJ.
“Cornwall,” she replies. (South West England). “Nothing to hunt there!” She jokes.
Negative African stereotype no. 4:
– Going on Safari equates to hunting animals.
The DJ corrects her: “I don’t think you’ll be hunting animals on Safari. We don’t do that anymore.” (Actually, there is limited, regulated hunting on some Safaris in Africa but the vast majority of holidaymakers just come to shoot with cameras).
“And what song would you like me to play for you Caller?”
“Africa” by Toto.
Negative African stereotype no. 5:
“Africa” by Toto.
I confess: I can’t help it, I love singing along to the song – perhaps because I’ve heard it a gazillion times.
But… it does seem a bit naff to be listening to it in Uganda – though God knows we hear it at least once every night if we’re at a local bar. Toto’s ‘Africa’ was released in 1983, here’s the video.
**Scroll down to find out what Toto’s Africa is really all about!*
I hear the drums echoing tonight
But she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation
She’s coming in 12:30 flight
The moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation
I stopped an old man along the way
Hoping to find some old forgotten words or ancient melodies
He turned to me as if to say
“Hurry boy, it’s waiting there for you!”
It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you
There’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do
I bless the rains down in Africa
Gonna take some time to do the things we never had
The wild dogs cry out in the night [the Muzungu: that’ll be the street dogs running amok!]
As they grow restless longing for some solitary company
I know that I must do what’s right
Sure as Kilimanjaro rises like Olympus above the Serengeti [the Muzungu: hmmm? geography!]
I seek to cure what’s deep inside
Frightened of this thing that I’ve become [the Muzungu: not a good lyric writer, I’m telling ya!]
It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you
There’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do
I bless the rains down in Africa
Gonna take some time to do the things we never had
Hurry boy, she’s waiting there for you
It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you
There’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do
I bless the rains down in Africa
Gonna take some time to do the things we never had
The Muzungu’s having mixed feelings now about singing along to Toto’s song ‘Africa.’ What a patronising load of crap.
So, Dearest Reader, apparently “this song tells the story of a man who comes to Africa and must make a decision about the girl who comes to see him. He is enamored with the country [Africa is a country is it?] but he must leave if he is going to be with her.”
Toto keyboard player David Paich wrote the song, and explained: “At the beginning of the ’80s I watched a late night documentary on TV about all the terrible death and suffering of the people in Africa. It both moved and appalled me and the pictures just wouldn’t leave my head. I tried to imagine how I’d feel about if I was there and what I’d do.” Paich had never been to Africa when he wrote the song.” [You don’t say!]
Jeez what did I start? I wish I hadn’t Googled this. What a depressing load of uneducated rubbish.
There’s so little exposure of the many wonderful, beautiful, talented and extraordinary things happening right now on this continent. Writing Diary of a Muzungu is my minuscule, personal attempt at trying to combat some of the many negative perceptions and untruths about Africa.
Are you (still?) a Toto fan? Does Uganda fit your idea of ‘a holiday of a lifetime’?
Yes or no? Either way, I’d love to hear your thoughts!
A Royal Wedding – the muzungu gets an invitation
It’s not every day (week / month / lifetime) that you get an invitation to a Royal Wedding, so what’s a girl to say?
I was delighted, honoured (and excited!) to receive an invitation to attend our friend Prince David Wasajja’s wedding on April 27th 2013.
A big part of the excitement was seeing the Kabaka for the first time. I would translate the word Kabaka as King but my Ugandan friend D.K. says “the word King doesn’t really convey the grandeur we attach to the Kabaka, this symbol of our cultural well-being!”
An explosion of noise! The Kabaka arrives for Prince David Wasajja’s wedding 27.04.13 Kampala Uganda from @CharlieBeau Diary of a Muzungu on Vimeo.
There was an explosion of noise as the Kabaka arrived for Prince David Wasajja’s wedding at Rubaga Cathedral, Kampala.
According to Wikipedia, Prince David ‘Daudi’ Kintu Wasajja is “the youngest brother of Muwenda Mutebi II the current Kabaka of Buganda. He is the youngest son of the late Kabaka Muteesa II, the 35th Kabaka of the Kingdom of Buganda, and Winifred Keihangwe, an Ankole princess.”
There were some real characters at the Royal Wedding! Part 1:
Meet the bakongozi ba Kabaka, the clan whose duty it is to get the party going – literally!
A truckload of these guys rocked up, dressed in barkcloth and leopardskins, with (replica) spears – all part of the fanfare that announces the arrival of the Kabaka. Fireworks were let off and the throng went into meltdown.
“Let’s get it started…. yeah …. Let’s get it started…”
It was fascinating to see the Buganda culture ‘live in action.’ There was an explosion of noise as the Kabaka arrived for Prince David Wasajja’s wedding at Rubaga Cathedral, Kampala. The crowd’s excitement was tangible! Check out this teeny weeny (but LOUD!) video clip.
The Kabaka is rarely seen in public except for at a few official kingdom functions. In fact, it is his youngest brother who is often called upon to represent him at such occasions (but I hear he was busy that particular day).
David is very humble, so we easily forget Who He’s Related To.
That said, his wedding was not your average Ugandan wedding.
Traditional and modern, the Royal Wedding was a very inclusive affair: Baganda and other tribes, the Kingdom and the State, Catholic and Anglican, friends and family, Hashers and non-Hashers – they’d even thrown in a handful of bazungu for good measure!
Apparently David is only the third prince to wed at the Catholic Rubaga (Lubaga) Cathedral. Unlike most of the Royal Family, David is Catholic (as his mother was). The Archbishop of Kampala, Dr Cyprian Lwanga, presided over the marriage ceremony, also attended by Ugandan Vice President Edward Ssekandi. Bishop Livingstone Mpalanyi Nkoyoyo, the retired Archbishop of the Church of Uganda, offered some words of wisdom to the newlyweds. No idea what he said – but his words seemed to go down well!
And we were well behaved (or did I leave too early?)
Wikipedia also states “Local media claims Wasajja to be one of the eccentric “Hash Harriers”, a group of Kampala socialites.”
So, thinking I’m doing them a favour, I offer three Hash friends a lift to the reception in my (admittedly TINY) Mini Pajero. The seats in the back are great – if you’re a short-legged kid!
“You should at least think of your passengers before offering them a lift” one of them complained seriously, his long legs up around his ears as we bumped downhill on the shortcut past the Kabaka’s Lake. I had to laugh.
And then we hit traffic. “Just drive to the front!” they shouted! “We’re VIP.”
I hesitated – were we really? As the only Muzungu for miles, I really didn’t want myself to stand out even more than I did already. I was happy to wait in line if everyone else had to.
“No, go on,” they urged. “We have a VIP sticker” – and indeed we do, I still haven’t removed it from the windscreen 😉
So I overtook everyone, drove right to the front of the queue, and without hesitation a traffic policeman yelled in my face “WHAT ARE YOU DOING? DO YOU THINK YOU ARE BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE?”
Oh.
Before I could think what to say, all three friends screamed back, “How dare you talk to her like that! DON’T YOU KNOW WHO SHE IS?”
… And we were inside the Lubiri!
The Will Smith-lookalike bodyguard pushed me in front of the bride to get a better shot “yes, use your zoom lens!” he ordered. I tried my best to record this piece of Buganda Kingdom history
Princess-to-be Marion really seemed to struggle up the steps to the Cathedral. She kept her poise but the dress seemed very heavy – especially when people kept treading on it!
The speeches, oh the speeches… in Luganda… for three and a half hours… Friends told me it would be ok to take a book along to keep myself occupied during the speeches, but it didn’t feel quite right. Instead I fiddled with my camera. Everyone assumed the Muzungu was a journalist I think (no complaints from me!)
There were some real characters at the Royal Wedding! Part 2… obviously a diehard Baganda… (happy to ask me for money though, even at a Royal Wedding!)
There were some real characters at the Royal Wedding! Part 3: “what’s the (homemade) uniform about?” I asked. “We love UGANDA!” they replied, grinning.
MINISKIRT ALERT! (See the Facebook photo album). This lady obviously didn’t read the newspapers banning miniskirts from the wedding. But how did she get in? (I suspect she arrived in a traditional, long flowing Basuti and removed it once she’d got through security, but that’s only a guess!) She looked a lot more presentable than the woman who came dressed as a butterfly, complete with huge stick-on wings!
The day was full of music: Catholic choral music, traditional Buganda songs, the Uganda national anthem, some serious drumming from the Zulu contingent, some Lingala from a funky Congolese band, top Ugandan artists including Radio and Weazel, Juliana Kanyomozi, Dr Hilderman, the obligatory Jose Chameleone, Bobi Wine and Ragga D.
During his speech, the 47 year old prince explained why he had taken his time to marry. According to the Monitor newspaper, this “for understandable reasons had a few people genuinely worried.”
Come on, if you were a good-looking Prince, would you give up the single life to rush into marriage?
“I do not rush into doing things,” he explained during his speech. Indeed!
In Britain, when someone is frequently late, we say “he’ll be late for his own funeral”- at least the Prince wasn’t late for his own wedding…
“Slowly by slowly…” I say… mpola … mpola… isn’t that the way things are done around here?
I chuckled to read “His youthfulness, which many of Kampala’s nightlife have known, will probably take the attention away from the very-hard-to-ignore age difference between the prince and his wife.”
Ah well, we Hashers are well-known for being young at heart.
Note from the Muzungu: between (unintentionally!) drenching my laptop with tea, a house move and meeting client deadlines, the Royal Wedding has hardly had the full Diary of a Muzungu treatment yet – but it was a fascinating day in Buganda Kingdom history from start to finish. Here are a few of my favourite photos and video clips (er…ok one) to give you a feel for the festivities. Click here to see the full photo album on the Diary of a Muzungu Facebook page – read the article alongside the photos 🙂
CONGS! Prince David Wasajja and Princess Marion.
Note no. 2 from the Muzungu: I’ve been working on this blog for weeks but technical problems (my laptop, my dongle, the internet, the blog itself) have frustrated me constantly. Do please check out the Royal Wedding photo album on the Diary of a Muzungu Facebook page – and if you know a Kampala-based web designer looking for an internship, ask them to get in touch! I’m not a quitter but sometimes I wonder whether I should be!
“No hurry in Africa” – journey by bus from Kampala to Kigali
On board the bus from Kampala, Uganda to Kigali, Rwanda. The muzungu’s travel tips
I didn’t understand much but the salesman’s words “Tsunami in the vagina” and aggressive pelvic thrusting into the bus seat next to him somehow caught my attention.
This guy should have been on the stage: the traveling salesman who literally travels as he travels, walking up and down the aisle of the bus from Kampala to Kigali, working the crowd, proffering samples and chucking out sweets to an enrapt audience of hecklers. How I wished I understood Luganda at that moment!
I remember him on my previous bus from Kampala to Kigali (en route to Kinigi, home of Rwanda’s mountain gorillas): the man who insisted we keep the bus windows open all night – and later proceeded to sell us cold remedies! [Note dear reader: this time he was promoting Chinese Royal Jelly – though I can’t confirm its libido effects!]
Blink or you’ll miss it…. without warning, the bus pulls over for a rare and impromptu stop for a ‘short call’. I choose my bush carefully. As I get comfy, a girl appears to sit down 10 feet away from me. So much for privacy. There’s a bump, bump, bump to my left as a man pedals downhill towards us, empty green jerry cans banging his bicycle seat as he passes over the bumpy path. (Did I say something about privacy?)
Show over, we return to the bus, and a pair of crutches emerges from the bushes, followed by a young girl. I’ll come to see a lot of people on crutches over my next few days in Rwanda and Burundi. I wonder at their stories, but daren’t ask.
A vicar in a pale blue shirt climbs on the bus, surrounded by men brandishing sticks of greasy meat ‘muchomo.’
“They wanted to drive without you” the girl next to me says as I squeeze myself back into my seat. (I’m sure the legroom has shrunk while I was behind that bush).
Back on the bus from Kampala to Kigali, Rwanda’s capital, we wind through the lush green hills and villages up to the border. I gaze out of the window. Matooke, matooke, matooke, as far as the eye can see. A young child in pink gum boots plays with a long stick in the mud. Two women walk across a field, bundles of babies tied around their middles, little feet sticking out either side of their waist. Too cute!
We slow to negotiate the slippery marram dirt roads and here – in the middle of nowhere and then a bit – a traffic jam! Bored, I jump out of the bus to stretch my legs, not realising the disaster that lies ahead of us. I march down towards the crowd by the river and 200 people turn around to me. I approach, camera in hand.
“Are you the photographer?” everyone asks as the Muzungu surveys the scene: a flooded river and an overturned truck, blocking the road to Rwanda. International Super Highway? Judge for yourself.
An employment opportunity presents itself: “Muzungu, I carry you for 1000 shillings!”
No mate, you have to pay ME for that particular public humiliation. (The thought of all those people laughing at the Muzungu being carried across the river, I don’t think so!) Oh what a spoilsport the Muzungu is, denying the villagers a good laugh…
They want me to believe how easy it will be to get a boda boda to the border a few kilometres away then jump on another bus at the border. I’m not rushing; I’m here to watch how this one unfolds.
We hang around eating huge chunks of fresh jackfruit (only 200 shillings in this part of the world!) as men unload the useless sodden bags of cement from the overturned lorry. “At least they can’t steal it!” Someone says.
I prepare for a night on the bus. Many people have abandoned ship and opted for the 1000 shilling piggyback ride but I stretch out on three seats. I’ve had three hours sleep the night before, sharing a single bed with a visiting onion farmer, and now it’s time for a zizz (sleep). Who cares if we’ll be eaten alive overnight by mosquitoes if we stay here next to the swamp? For now I’m in luxury!
To lose three hours in Africa is nothing, and I’m surprised (disappointed?) when from my slumber I hear a huge cheer as the lorry is winched back upright.
Time to move.
As we approach the border, a few minutes later, a man next to me opens a photo album of identity cards and ponders: “Tonight Matthew I’m going to be…” (a joke for the Brits, sorry…)
A man in an ill-fitting suit carries just one possession, his Kinyarwanda English dictionary.
At immigration, I ingratiate myself with every staff member, regardless of their nationality, in the hope they’ll remember my smiling Muzungu face upon my return.
I panic when I hear the revving of a bus engine. Perhaps the bus driver really does mean to leave me behind this time? And I recognise our luggage, strewn under a tree, bags being searched – not for bombs – but for cavera (plastic bags), illegal in Rwanda. I’m very nicely ordered to jettison mine, ready for the next adventure: Rwanda!
For more dramatic photos of the scene that greeted us, see the Diary of a Muzungu Facebook album.
Here are a few of my travel tips for bus travel from Kampala to Kigali:
- I don’t trust the driving skills of a man who puts all his faith in God, sorry. ‘Inshallah’ written in huge letters on the front window just doesn’t cut it with me. Check out the driver before you get into any vehicle. If he stinks of booze, get out!
- I travelled with Jaguar Executive Coaches. Expect to pay around 70,000 Uganda shillings (PRICE CORRECT April 2024). Buy the day before or just before departure. Early booking means you can choose your seat (recommended!) Call +256 (0)414 251855 or (0)782 811 128 for information. Visit Jaguar Executive Coach’s Facebook page for directions to their bus park in Kampala.
- On my return bus trip from Kigali to Kampala, I used Baby Coach. The fare was the same as Jaguar. You can pay in Rwandan francs or Uganda shillings, even in Kigali. Their office is in Nyabugogo bus park, Kigali.
- Where to sit in the bus: don’t even think of sitting over the back wheels. The Muzungu has endured this experience so you don’t have to! Read ‘Kampala to Nairobi by bus: 14 hours of speed humps’ for the reasons why.
- Does the bus have curtains? If not, you might want to sit on the side away from the sun or you’ll get burned, or at least uncomfortably hot.
- Always take mosquito repellent – you never know when you might need it.
- Always bring more water than you need – you never know where you’re going to end up!
- Bring water but try not to drink it! Apart from the unplanned stop and the border, we only stopped very briefly twice in eight plus hours of travel.
- Bring that horrible disinfectant hand gel stuff. If you’re lucky enough to find any real toilets en route, they are grim / have no running water / no soap.
- Take ear plugs and/or music. You might enjoy the person behind you singing loudly to their radio? I don’t.
For more of the Muzungu moaning about fellow travelers, read A short-tempered muzungu flies to Istanbul
Do you have any bus travel tips to share? I’d love to hear them!
Bang! goes my day
Woke in the night to a BANG – pop, pop, pop, pop, pop
The outside lights flickered off, on, off, on ….. off.
Heavy rain had preceded this latest electrical burnout, apparently the fault of our neighbour who is tapping directly into the overhead power cable.
Great, how many days before we get power back?
I really don’t need it.
Today I should be working hard. Instead the house girl is off sick with Malaria. Being without power means I’m having to light the charcoal stove to boil drinking water. But at least the Muzungu can light it now – thanks to Simpson’s charcoal-stove-lighting-lessons!
Everything just slows right down to local speed and I have no control over it.
Life in Uganda….
So today there is no power, no car and – for an hour or so – no drinking water.
I’m completely skint and I have to work out what my work priorities are to get them done in one and a half hours of laptop battery time.
I’m stuck in the house now until the mechanic arrives.
“Another day in paradise.”
The changing face of Kampala slums
I love Namuwongo, it’s where I first fell in love with Uganda but I’m sure many Ugandans would shudder hearing that. Like many other Kampala slums, Namuwongo slums have a history: they were a no-go area for many years. It’s no des res (desirable residential) address, that’s for sure, but things are changing.
Slum children are frequently ill and are forced to live and play in terrible conditions. PHOTO Hope for Children
Clinging to the railway that connects Port Bell on Lake Victoria and the city of Kampala, are Namuwongo’s slums – or ‘high density housing’ to give them their posh term.
The Nakivubo Channel discharges large volumes of water into the slum, a combination of industrial waste and the run-off water from the high lying areas of Kampala, contaminating water in the wells and springs on which 30 to 40,000 slum-dwellers depend. Houses on the lower section of the slum are frequently flooded, homes and possessions destroyed by water, rubbish and human waste, spreading disease and unimaginable misery. Situated on and next to the mosquito-infested swamp, life in the slum presents a constantly high risk of malaria.
The majority of the slum’s population come from the war-torn zones of Northern Uganda, Congo and Rwanda. Others have migrated from Kenya using the railway line. There is a high birth rate.
Namuwongo slums are in Bukasa, Makindye Division, one of Kampala’s five major divisions. International Hospital Kampala and IHSU International Health Sciences University are just 1 km from the slum. In 2012 IHSU researched the health of the slum’s population, interviewing over 800 local residents, resulting in some major changes…
A typical scene along the railway through Namuwongo slums, Kampala
No one would choose to live in Kampala’s slums … or would they? The fact is that more than half the surveyed reported Namuwongo’s slums to be better than where they had lived before.
BLOODY HELL.
Hand sorting through the ten thousand tons of rubbish in the hope of finding something to sell. PHOTO Hope for Children
I try and imagine what life is like ‘down’ – down in the Kampala slums.
You know how debilitating an upset stomach can be? Imagine you have lots of kids who have nowhere else to play but in a sewage-infested area. Think of all the germs they bring home. Imagine how often they’re ill…
The thing is, only 10% of Namuwongo’s slum households have toilets and the average cost to use the public latrine is 200 shillings per visit.
But let’s do the maths: nearly 40% of respondents have a monthly income of just 2,500 shillings – less than a dollar. That’s not a dollar a day, but A DOLLAR A MONTH. (Incidentally, 98% of those were women). 65% of respondents have less than 100,000 shillings (35 USD) per month and 88% have less than 250,000 (95 USD) per month.
So how do you pay for all these toilet visits, especially if a member of your family is sick? Well the answer is you can’t. You go behind a bush or you improvise: wrapping your waste in a cavera (plastic bag) to make a ‘flying toilet.’
Bye bye flying toilets!
When toilets are free, people will use them, meaning a cleaner environment, less spread of disease and a healthier, happier population. Six blocks of latrines are being built, free for the local community to use.
This is being provided by Hope for Children, a UK charity that works with street children in Kampala, through their project Events for Namuwongo. Additional infrastructure is being constructed for waste management, recycling and very cheap clean water, all under the one Public Private Partnership Agreement, a project in partnership with KCCA and the Makindye Mayor’s office.
Clearing rubbish in Namuwongo, Kampala slums. PHOTO Hope for Children
Moving a mountain
A ten thousand ton waste mountain was cleared from this Kampala slum last year. Makindye Division Mayor and fellow Hash House Harrier Dr Ian Clarke mobilised KCCA to provide the diggers and Rift Valley Railways transported it for free.
Since then, concrete drainage systems have been built, substantially lessening the chance of homes flooding. The creation of free rubbish dumps and recycling facilities – and stopping people from dumping rubbish in the drainage ditches – has improved the situation immeasurably.
Hope for Children have employed hundreds of people from the local community to help clean up Namuwongo slums, Kampala. PHOTO Hope for Children
Local boy looks on as the Rift Valley Railways train is loaded with rubbish. It took several week-ends to clear the 10,000 tons of rubbish from Namuwongo slums, Kampala. PHOTO Hope for Children
Rift Valley Railways have also contributed 50 metres of land either side of track for the development of this project.
You can lead a horse to water…
Most residents collect water from a communal tap or a protected spring. 80% of people boiled water before drinking it but children are at risk of Cholera and Typhoid, often drinking unboiled water from the tap or Jerry can.
Work underway to first clear the rubbish and then dig foundations for the new concrete drainage ditches or ‘drainages’ in Namuwongo, Kampala slums. PHOTO Hope for Children
National Water are putting in a new ‘loop’ of piping which will create more water points throughout the slums and provide water for the new latrines. Twenty litres of water will cost just 22 Ugandan shillings, as opposed to the current 100 shillings ( 3 US cents) and it will be accessible via a token system and paid for by Mobile Money. (Poor people’s access to mobile phone technology in Uganda still amazes me – I bet you can’t pay for your water by SMS in the UK yet!) This heavily subsidised ‘pro poor water supply’ has already been successfully piloted in the Kampala slums of Bwaise and Gisenyi.
Keeping up the good work
This project will continue to employ hundreds of local people: community sensitisation teams that encourage people to make use of the new rubbish and recycling facilities and who offer information on family planning and HIV counselling; the de-silting team that unblock the drains of rubbish and tons of marram road run-off and dirt washed downhill every time it rains. KCCA will take on some of the project maintenance, including emptying of latrine septic tanks.
Free of waste, the new concrete drainages allow rainwater to pass through the slums without flooding homes. PHOTO Hope for Children
People seem happier
Hope for Children report that there’s been a very positive community response to the improvements so far – and it’s still early days.
“People seem a bit happier down there” says Thomas… “they are seeing the benefit of the work and are becoming more proactive, caring for the environment around them.”
With the majority of the work still under construction, the real positive impacts remain to be seen – but promise to be life-changing for thousands of people.
Meet my mad friend Robert!
If you’d like to support the work of Hope for Children, my friend Robert would love you to support him and this BONKERS proposal to run the Marathon Des Sables (MdS), the world’s toughest footrace: a 6 day, 156 mile run through the Moroccan Sahara Desert that’s taking place this April.
Robert is putting himself through HELL to run in 50 degree temperatures for SIX DAYS in the cross Sahara Marathon des Sables. Let’s help him get through it! for Hope for Children and their Namuwongo Kampala slums project
Robert writes:
“I have been silly enough to sign up for the Marathon des Sables one last time in order to raise funds for a project that HOPE for Children support in Uganda. I took part in this event three years ago and the side effects included the inability to walk for two weeks afterwards and the loss of several body parts.
We will be running in temperatures hovering at around 50 degrees centigrade, across sand dunes that tower several hundred metres high, stretching for 10-15 miles and made of sand so soft you sink up to your knee. No good for sandcastles and even less fun to run over.
If you could help me support these kids, I’d be immensely grateful. The pain I will undoubtedly go through will not be anything compared to the suffering these kids have been through and continue to go through every day.”
You can help Robert conquer those sand dunes and support Hope for Children’s life-changing work by donating here
Thank you – and we’re sure all the children from Namuwongo are with us rooting for you Robert!
Where’s my wall gone? Uganda’s weather gets the better of us
Rain… rain… rain… Uganda’s weather is disorganising me!
This whopping pothole in Kampala’s Industrial Area has been filled in but most reappear. Terrific rains and poor drainage combine for maximum destructive effect.
Rain stopped work.
Rain stopped play.
Rain stopped John our askari going home – until two hours before he was due back here for the night shift.
Nora sweeps flooded kitchen. sigiri on floor
Rain meant that seven people were cooped up in our little house (my office!) while I’d planned to catch up the backlog of work…
It certainly rained on someone’s parade: the National Resistance Movement’s public holiday parade to be exact – and it was soggy public holiday weather in Uganda for the rest of Kampala’s population.
Simpson surfaced at midday, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after a mega lie-in. I scowled at his good humour. I’d got up early to work – and my plans had been scuppered by the weather.
It was 3 pm by the time everyone left the house, my work day obliterated.
What makes it worse is having to look at the destruction in the compound from last week’s hailstorm.
Simpson surveys the damage after the hailstorm. The top third of the compound wall sliced off. The storm was so loud I didn’t even hear the wall crashing down!
I thought the roof was going to come off our house – the rusty iron sheets certainly flew off the house opposite!
The landlady started yelling at me when she saw the wall, insisting that I was going to finance the whole thing.
“No way!” The muzungu shouted back at her. She’d intimidated me once, but not this time.
Yes, I may have let the Bougainvillea grow too big but it breaks my heart to cut the flowers off in their prime, deprive the birds of their roost and expose our compound to passing strangers. (Ugandans tend to hack plants back to an ugly bare stick!) The bush was huge before we arrived, otherwise the rock hard, sun-baked branches intertwined amongst the railings would not have wrenched the railings out of what a friend called the *fake wall. The railings were secured to brick posts by a mere 5 cm of cement. Ascari John knocked the mortar off the old bricks with a stick – so it was hardly built to last!
The wind and rain entered the house horizontally through the mosquito mesh covering the ventilation bricks above the windows. A fine brown water spray covered every surface in every room; even the laptop came out of the affair muddy!
The noise from the hailstorm was so loud we didn’t even hear the wall come down.
“The fence got knocked down” said Jemima. Fence? What fence? I wondered. I tried to picture a bamboo or iron sheet fence near our house but couldn’t.
And then I opened the front door onto what looked like a bombsite!
Uganda’s weather continues to amaze me.
Baldrick enjoys sniffing through the debris of our compound wall. Sadly a bird was catapulted out of its nest. Dawn chorus seems quieter too!
Top Dog Baldrick has come into his own and is finally earning his keep! He seems to be enjoying barking at every passing person peering into our newly exposed compound.
Percy the rescue puppy checks out the damage to our compound wall
I need to destress. The live-work situation in Namuwongo was often stressful. When you work in an office, you can leave your stresses behind at the end of the day. When you work from home, it’s not always that easy.
This is my choice though, I must remember. Or as a friend once said be careful what you wish for!
*The friend appears to be as fake as the wall… another chapter for the book?
So how do you find the weather in Uganda? I love its dramatic twists and turns – but how much has this month’s weather cost you?
Diary of a Muzungu’s travel highlights – across Uganda and Kenya
The Muzungu’s travel highlights of 2012 – Kibale Forest, Queen Elizabeth National Park, Murchison Falls, community tourism in Mabira Forest, Lonely Planet, Nairobi – and two Royal Weddings!
Life in Uganda has tested me in many ways and 2012 was ‘challenging’ as we say around here – but I’m still here ‘living the dream’ (on a good day!)
The year ended on a real high, literally – waking up on Christmas Day in a treehouse overlooking Kibale Forest to the sound of chimpanzees and forest birds.
We had a feast! – with “all the trimmings” of a British Christmas dinner, including bread sauce, crackers, naff jokes, silly hats and Christmas stockings, all imported specially for the occasion.
A Kibale Forest special! The metal trunk oven worked a treat. We even had roast potatoes. Bahati cooks Christmas dinner for 12
Kibale Forest to Queen Elizabeth National Park
After Christmas we put the Baby Car (a.k.a. Mimi) through her paces. Our party of twelve people went on a 4 wheel driving adventure along the muddy marram tracks across heavenly crater lake country, en route to Queen Elizabeth National Park for a couple of days Safari, a luxury overnight in Volcanoes’ Kyambura Lodge and the most brilliant water safari and birdwatching day out on a boat trip on the Kazinga Channel. Simpson saw his first hippos and crocodiles! – I adore the waterways’ incredible birdlife (TWITCH!)
family pose, Queen Elizabeth Equator, Uganda
It’s almost a year since my last trip for our epic bird-ringing week-end at Julia’s amazing home in Kibale Forest – maybe that’s where I’ll write my book? Chimp alert! or muzungu bolthole?
From there Julia and I travelled to the wide open savannah of Ishasha where we’d jumped in an elephant trench and had a go at maintaining the matooke (banana) plantation – all in a day’s work for the Bazungu!
Why I love elephant dung! tells the story.
Back in Kampala, my photographer friend Javi and I rocked up to State House, the President’s office. Javi asked me to collaborate with him on a book about Uganda and we have the makings of a great project – we just need someone to pay for it! And so we spent Valentine’s Day sweltering on the veranda as our 10 a.m. meeting got put back and back and back. By 4 p.m. we finally had our slot with one of the President’s Permanent Secretaries, a charming lady called Grace: but alas the answer was NO.
We didn’t get to meet The Man With The Hat (The Big Man) either. Boo, hoo Valentine’s Day, no red rose, no book deal, not nuffink.
I love seeing everyone’s favourite Uganda memories – this one went back to Scotland with fellow VSO volunteers Stuart and Elisabeth
September saw the launch of the Uganda photo souvenir map Facebook page. The Uganda map is designed by Andrew Roberts, a UCF Director and co-editor of the Bradt travel guide. Special thanks to ‘Chimp Girl’ Julia Lloyd and Harriet ‘Ebola’ Fowler for commissioning photo maps and for all your support! Each montage is individually created with your photos and 10% of sales go to the Uganda Conservation Foundation to help fight poaching in the National Parks – now at its worst level in decades.
Poaching is fuelled mostly by the growth of the Chinese middle classes and facilitated by China’s growing networks and investments in East Africa. Check out my friend Anne-Marie’s brilliant article about poaching in Uganda, entitled There is a lot of it about.
In October, I was delighted to welcome fellow Lonely Planet* blogger, Isabel Romano, on her first trip to Africa. After a visit to Ggaba market on Lake Victoria and a relaxing lunch at Cassia Lodge taking in the view, Ronald and I introduced her to a very different view of Kampala: a visit to Namuwongo slum.
Ugandan kids have the best smiles! Thanks to Isabel Romano of www.diariodeabordo.com for this fabulous photo
To find out more about some of the excellent development work in Namuwongo slums, check out Events for Namuwongo on Facebook.
My friend Ronald is a professional dog trainer based in Kampala. I love my walks with him and De Boys – Baldrick and Percy!
The best friend a girl could have: the Dog with the Waggiest Tail. Coming to Uganda gave me the chance to have my first dog, Baldrick, my parter in crime in many of my blog stories. Here are some of my favourite moments.
Namuwongo is dear to my heart – the first place I lived in Uganda.
Murchison Falls National Park
I celebrated my birthday with Red Chilli’s at their camp in Murchison Falls National Park, where we partied all week-end to celebrate the camp’s tenth birthday. A percentage of all the camp’s profits go to support the Steve Willis Memorial Fund.
Anne-Marie and I should have known better: as we entered the Park, we opened the car doors in exactly the wrong spot letting vicious biting Tsetse flies loose in the car. We spent the weekend itching, scratching and regretting it!
You can’t help but fall in love with the Rothschild’s Giraffes in Murchison Falls National Park
Queen Elizabeth National Park
Tembo Canteen on Mweya Peninsula in Queen Elizabeth is possibly the best location in the world to endure three days of PowerPoint presentations, with Mike Cant’s talk about mongooses being the highlight. Kabina squashed on a hard wooden benche, I loved reconnecting with my conservation friends for UWA’s research symposium: Dianah, Phionah and Richard from NatureUganda, Aggie and Dr Margaret from UWA, Gladys of Conservation Through Public Health, Alex, Erik and Emmanuel from UCF, Alastair and Andy from Wildlife Conservation Society. Poaching, invasive species, climate change and human wildlife conflict are just some of the big issues UWA is challenged with.
The weekend finished with a boat trip on the Kazinga Channel. The eager eyes of a warden even spotted a leopard, a distant dot high up on the hillside! We certainly didn’t expect to see a leopard in broad daylight from the boat, but that’s the wonderful thing about going on Safari – every outing is different.
Birds and bird watching in Uganda
By the way, if you like birds you might enjoy some of the muzungu’s Uganda birding stories, now grouped on one handy page inspired by attending the UK Bird Fair and hanging out with expert birders Roger, Malcolm, David Lindo ‘the Urban Birder’ and Aussie Chris Watson.
African Fish Eagles on the Kazinga Channel, Queen Elizabeth National Park
The best community tourism projects in Uganda are promoted by UCOTA
The UCOTA community tourism fam trip was another highlight. We had a lot of fun, as you will read in – Can you play the Xylophone? – and got to meet the real people living on the edges of Queen Elizabeth National Park. Theirs is not an easy life.
Honey never tasted so good!
A wave of patriotism flooded Uganda in 2012 as the country celebrated 50 years of independence. Needless to say it also brought up a lot of discontent, mostly aimed at the current regime’s 26 years in power. My contribution to the party? 50 reasons why I love Uganda – my most popular blog ever.
A moment of feeling homesick…
I felt a twinge of homesickness as I thought of all my friends and family celebrating the Queen’s Golden Jubilee and the London Olympics. British expat friends dressed in the red, white and blue of the Union Jack and gathered round a TV set in Kololo to watch the celebrations along the Thames.
Cha, Amy and Jennie. Diamond Jubilee Kampala
I was glad to be able to get a glimpse of London Bridge on TV. I felt quite homesick for a moment! Diamond Jubilee 2012
Uganda was delighted to welcome home the Marathon gold Olympic medallist Kipsoro. It seemed to be a typical Ugandan achievement – mpole, mpole ‘slowly by slowly’ – wait until the very last event to win a medal…! Ugandans are rightly proud of this homegrown talent, who actually trained in next door Kenya.
A wave of patriotism swept across Uganda in 2012. Boda boda photo courtesy of journalist photographer Amy Fallon http://www.amyfallon.com/
Running across East Africa, with the Hash House Harriers – and a Royal Wedding
I know a lot of talented runners. Kampala’s Seven Hills race (or does Kampala have 22 hills now?) certainly keeps us fit! At 1000 metres above sea level, rumour has it that if we train here in Kampala, we return to the lower lands of Europe with more stamina. (I certainly huffed and puffed my way up Tank Hill in Muyenga, Kampala for a few months before I acclimatised to the increase in altitude).
An invitation from the Buganda Kingdom
Regular Diary of a Muzungu blog readers will know of my Monday evening antics with the Kampala Hash House Harriers, that have taken me to all corners of Kampala, Jinja, Nairobi and even Ethiopia. I felt a million Muganda ladies sigh (and maybe a couple of Muzungu ones too) as the Buganda Kingdom announced the engagement of our friend Prince David Wassaja. We wish you all de best Federo! The Muzungu was honoured to be invited to the Buganda Royal Wedding.
De Prince tries to keep a low profile as he passes villagers on the annual Kampala Jinja relay
I was honoured to attend the wedding of Prince Wasajja at the Lubiri in Mengo
Northern Uganda comes to Kampala
In April we welcomed back the sometimes controversial comedienne Jane Bussman to Kampala for another run of her award-winning show, entitled “The worst date ever – or how it took a comedy writer to expose Africa’s secret war.” It was a sell-out night in Kampala. All proceeds from Jane’s show went to complete construction of a house for ex-LRA child soldiers in Northern Uganda.
Meeting new tribes in Nairobi, Kenya
The Muzungu and new friends from Turkana and Pokot tribes, Kenya. The tourism show at Nairobi’s Sarit Centre whet my appetite for more East African travel
Check out the Muzungu with my new friends – the guy looks very cute! Kenya is only a bus ride away and I need to explore the country further!
The two are not connected 😉
We stopped for a spot of shopping – in the middle of the sugarcane plantation, Mabira, Jinja
Griffin Falls Ecocamp, Mabira Forest, Jinja
Set in the heart of Mabira Forest, Griffin Falls campsite is a charming little hideaway.
Enkima red-tailed monkey mural, one of many on display at Griffin Falls Camp, Mabira
The banda accommodation and food are basic and cheap; if you’re happy with cold bucket showers and a kerosene lamp, you’ll love this place. Isla and I hired bikes for a guided tour of the Forest and the Falls and I even saw my first Grey Cheeked Mangabey! Hussein and Peter (tel +256(0)751949368 / +256(0)751955671) are very friendly and knowledgeable about the forest’s birds and trees, under threat from so-called developers. The campsite is a real gem.
PHEW! Well I’ve worn myself out just reliving all of that lot…! Time for a lie-down now…
So what does the New Year hold for the Muzungu?
2013 is my year – and hopefully Uganda’s too, after National Geographic voted Uganda one of the top 20 places to visit in 2013.
*Sadly, after four years, Lonely Planet has dropped its links with Diary of a Muzungu and the 100s of other travel bloggers featured on its web site, after Lonely Planet was sold to the BBC. Farewell #lp we’ve had a good run. We in Uganda loved being Lonely Planet’s no. 1 destination to visit in 2012 and working with Lonely Planet bloggers to create a free downloadable book of photography was a personal highlight.
Moving house Ugandan style. PHOTO Mark Thriscutt
Diary of a Muzungu now accepts guest posts so if you have a story you want to share with the world, please get in touch! Thanks to my first guest blogger Mark Penhallow for a hilarious blog about Driving in Kampala
If you haven’t visited Uganda yet, feel free to explore my blog or drop the Muzungu an email for more Uganda and East Africa travel ideas. Wishing you an adventure-filled New Year!
The Kingfisher and me
There’s something in the air tonight.
I love this time of day, walking with the dogs before the sun goes down.
A pair of African Grey parrots fly overhead, squawking all the way to their roost in the big tree behind us. The Hadada Ibis congregate on the highest roof, cackling as I approach with De Boys – Baldrick and Percy – who bounce through the long (tick-infested!) grass, delighted to be free from the compound.
There’s a disgusting smell – trust the dogs to find the rotting corpse of a dog, only recognisable by its canines. Looks like someone’s dumped it here, as it’s half concealed (I bet someone had a nasty shock when they opened that sack!)
As we walk across the football pitch someone shouts out “Muzungu! Can we eat your dog for our dinner?”
It’s OK, he’s just fooling around in front of his mates. I grin back at them.
As we turn the corner back to the house, a Woodland Kingfisher darts through the air, picking insects. How relieved am I to see him!*
Who needs an alarm clock in Africa? My love-hate relationship with the Woodland Kingfisher was put to the test recently
What appear to be flying ants and dragonflies whirl around in the evening’s pink sky. A Sooty Falcon flies overhead. A second one follows. I turn around 360 degrees, necked craned, and count seven of them!
(According to Stevenson & Fanshawe’s Birds of East Africa, this group of Sooty Falcons are migrating on their passage to South Africa for winter. They’re often associated with storm fronts and termite emergences. Another tick on my bird list!)
Sooty Falcons pass over Uganda, passing south for the winter. Photo courtesy of http://www.arkive.org
After this morning’s heavy rains – across Kampala, everyone was stuck indoors and hours late for work – the ground has been heating up all day. The baked murram is now steaming and, from barely visible slits in the dirt track, scores of ants bubble up from the ground beneath my feet.
The long lacy winged ants quickly flutter into action and spiral skyward like sycamore seeds. This unexpected spectacle makes me catch my breath. As dusk settles, they pour out of the earth, upwards and away, a non-stop chain of swirling activity.
Two Woodland Kingfishers rest on their electric perch above the blossoming Bougainvillea. (Simpson wants me to hack the bush back – now it’s looking beautiful!)
After a a few minutes the earth is still and the last ants float skywards to join the huge dragonflies, buzzing around above us. The sound of insects fills my ears as we make our way back home. Is this what it’s like to have tinnitus?
Back in the compound, as I tell what I’ve witnessed, Simpson asks “so did you eat them?” We talk about the enswa, the White Termites that the Muganda find so delicious! Brenda’s eyes light up when I tell her the termites were right outside our house. Oh me, oh my, next time we’re going out there with a blanket to cover the hole and we’ll beat the ground until we fill it!
Let’s hope enswa taste better than the muzungu’s first taste of grasshoppers (nsenene)
*Regular Diary of a Muzungu readers may remember my love-hate relationship with the Kingfisher that has been waking me up at 5.30 am PRECISELY every day for almost 4 years.
I frequently curse him but last week I thought I’d lost him – and I was worried.
With the rains, the occasional giant cockroach has been appearing in the house in the middle of the night. I’m not quite the coward I once was and occasionally I manage to deal with them on my own. (Makes me feel very grown up!)
Our friendship was sealed when I discovered my housemate Simpson’s not afraid of cockroaches! My hero!
One particular night I’d zapped one with Doom. It’s a poisonous spray and I only use it as a last resort: aim Doom at insect, close eyes and spray. I’m sure they’ve got more than eight legs – I can’t bear to look at them. They wriggle and squirm – even the next morning the damn thing’s legs will still be kicking. Answer: get the broom and sweep it out of the house right away.
The next morning I’m sitting at my desk enjoying the view as the Kingfisher lands on the washing line just a few feet from my window.
It’s such a beautiful bird. But what’s that in its big red beak? An enormous cockroach! God it looks disgusting. And I panic, realising it’s probably the poisoned cockroach I’ve swept out the back door a few hours earlier…
I watch the Kingfisher struggling to swallow the big leggy insect – will it too succumb to Doom … ?
There then followed two days of silent mornings: “Please come back and wake me up every morning, please don’t let me have poisoned you” I plead.
And so Mr Kingfisher is back! I can’t be anything but happy and relieved now when I see and hear him (even at 5.30 am!)
“Don’t console yourself Charlotte – it’s a different bird that’s assumed his territory,” Julia chides me.
So what interesting wildlife have you seen during the rainy season?
And have you eaten enswa? Should I?
If you like birds, you might enjoy some of the Muzungu’s Uganda birding stories.
And if like dogs, you might enjoy more of my morning / evening dog walks around Kampala.
Are muzungus all rich?
“For us we know you are rich”
Being a Muzungu (having a white skin) defines me as rich, or so the rolex man tells me.
Let’s talk English semantics here: when he says he knows I’m rich, he could also mean he believes I am rich.
Are school fees due? I don’t think so. Nonetheless, three incidents in 24 hours this week annoyed me – they’re nothing really, but when they come at you – one after the other – they can get you down.
Part One – the Muzungu and the casino chips
Last Monday night Julia and I went to a local restaurant. It looked like a bit of a dive but we were starving. There were no other customers so we thought we might be lucky and get served quickly.
We went through the normal routine: “We are in a hurry, how long will it be?”
“It will be quick Madam” came the reply, “we have machines.”
Three quarters of an hour later, a bowl of vegetable dall and chips finally emerged (quite what those machines were, we will never know…)
Did she think the Muzungu had ordered Casino chips?
When it came to paying the bill, a sultry girl (invisible until this point), hung around the table demanding attention. She presented us with a handwritten bill for two mango juices, chips and dall.
“8500 shillings for chips!” screamed Julia. “Let me see the menu.”
“You had chicken and chips” the girl said. “No we didn’t,” Julia answered back. The remains of dall – and not chicken – were clearly there on the table in front of her.
There was some reluctant shuffling and the greasy, fingerprint-stained remains of a menu were handed to us.
“We’re not paying this bill – the menu says chips are only 3000 shillings.”
The girl picked the bill up from the table in her left hand – and with her right hand replaced it with another handwritten bill, identical except for the total.
“Why did you write two bills?” I confronted the girl. Her attempts to fleece us were so transparent, it’s laughable.
Part Two – the Muzungu and the gold-plated Rolex
The next morning in Entebbe, I pulled over at the side of the road for a quick breakfast before my meeting.
“How much is your rolex please?”
“Only 2000 shillings.”
“I don’t pay that even in Kampala!” I retorted. (I pay maximum 1500). I was half asleep but the second blatant attempt to rip me off in less than 24 hours really got my goat.
Riled, I asked him “so you think all muzungus are rich?” He laughed “For us we know you are rich.”
Gold plated Rollex – this is what I thought I was being charged for – not an omelette wrapped in a chapati
How can I explain to him that the car he sees me drive was bought with a loan from my dad? Will he appreciate the fact I spent the first 2 1/2 years of my life in Uganda working as a volunteer? Will he respect the fact that I’ve been helping a Ugandan friend through university? What will he think of the fact I employ two people that I can’t really afford to employ simply because I like them and want to support them? These thoughts go through my head time and again – but there’s no point in saying anything, he wants his bit of me just like everyone else does. And really, what’s 500 shillings to me anyway?
[500 shillings is approx 12 British pence or 20 US cents]. What a shame I am paid in shillings though, isn’t it?
Part Three – the Muzungu gets tanked up
I pulled over at the petrol station to buy fuel for the 40 something km drive back to Kampala. The attendant greets me with a fabulous grin “Good morning Madam, how are you?”
Such a lovely greeting is the norm and I reply in kind.
I know the question is coming but I’ll have to disappoint him… “Fill her up Madam?” He beams.
“Just give me 30,000” the muzungu snaps back at him.
Don’t get on the wrong side of Tank Girl Charlie!
Some days Uganda, I am just not in the mood!
I chatted all this over with Simpson and he’s right – Ugandans get treated exactly the same way. People need money.
Just don’t expect me to tip you if you get caught trying to rip me off – and at least the man at the petrol station greeted me with a smile.
So how has your week been? Did you come out on top?
If you like reading Diary of a Muzungu, please comment and share my blog with your friends. If you’re interested in writing a guest post, I would love to hear from you! Read more about writing a guest post here
Driving in Kampala – not for the nervous
Driving in Kampala? Then you’ll need to read this first!
Welcome to Diary of a Muzungu! This week’s guest post is by Mark Penhallow. Mark has been working in the roads sector in Uganda since 2001 and has recently returned to the UK after 2 years based in Kampala. Mark writes:
Ugandans are generally friendly, intelligent and considerate people, but they should never, ever be allowed anywhere close to a steering wheel (or a microphone for that matter) when, for some inexplicable reason, these admirable characteristics (plus any sense of self-preservation) seem to abandon them entirely!
If you plan to drive in or through Kampala (which is unavoidable when you visit Uganda), it’s imperative to remember that it’s a war out there and to be prepared for battle!
Some rules of engagement do exist (such as driving on the left), but these appear to be advisory only and are frequently ignored. Consequently, there is no point of waving a “Highway Code” at anyone or claiming any self-righteousness, such as “but it’s my right of way!” or “I got here first” as this merely produces looks of utter perplexion and shrugged shoulders.
One of the slower moving obstacles to avoid while driving in Kampala
How to prepare your vehicle for battle
- The bigger the vehicle, the better. “BIG IS BIG” as a windscreen sticker in one of the city’s matatu (taxis) says.
- The presence of “bull bars” on the front of your vehicle helps intimidate other road users; show them you mean business! Loud horns are important, together with full-beam lights for after dark.
- The presence of other miscellaneous items such as indicators, tyre treads, brakes and windscreen wipers is usually an indication that the vehicle belongs to an affluent foreigner or even richer NGO.
- If your vehicle does have such ancillary items, use these to fool other road users:
- Flash your lights means “go ahead” or equally the opposite “I’m coming through.”
- A right hand indicator means either “I’m pulling off to the left, so you can overtake me” or occasionally, “I’m going to turn right.”
You will notice that, yes, one meaning completely contradicts the other and could easily result in a collision – welcome to Kampala!
Now you’re prepared for battle, let me introduce you to some of your fellow road users:
Pedestrians
Pedestrians are an occupational hazard of driving in Kampala, but can usually be safely ignored by drivers. Unfortunately, instead of remaining in the narrow areas of mud or dust that line Kampala’s roadsides, they have an inconsiderate tendency to walk in the roadway instead, often getting in the way of vehicles. A sharp blast from the car horn is usually sufficient to scatter them out of your way.
Should you happen to hit one of these individuals, it’s unlikely anyone will care, as they tend to be poor and, as would appear from the state of the facilities provided for them throughout the city, the authorities clearly do not think these people are important anyway. Anyone important or rich has a car of course, so it is their needs which the authorities aim to satisfy above anyone else’s.
A note of caution! Beware of pedestrians in white uniforms, especially if they start waving little red objects at you, as they are particularly keen to greet foreigners.
Fortunately, these people are often quite fat (especially the successful ones), so are relatively easy to spot from afar. Their waving usually indicates that they are feeling hungry and want you to stop, so that they can tell you of some spectacularly imaginative reason why you should pay for their lunch. Consequently, they tend to be especially busy in the mornings, and less so after lunch. Their levels of activity also rise in the run-up to Christmas and when school fees are due.
How to deal with pedestrians in white uniforms (sometimes referred to as ‘traffic policemen’):
1. Look away and pretend you haven’t seen them: eye contact is especially foolhardy.
2. Having red number plates (denoting you work for a NGO) can be partially effective. The best avoidance tactic is to own a pair of blue (diplomatic) plates, which as you will inevitably see, allows you to do whatever you want, without having to worry about anyone else.
3. Adding a little flag to the front of your vehicle can help too (and is certainly good for your ego).
4. If you are feeling especially insecure, insignificant and unimportant, why not hire a truck full of uniformed men to escort you to the shops and restaurants around town? Make sure that your escort vehicle has a wide range of different tunes to blast through its sirens, as you speed through the traffic of Kampala. This adds variety to your trip and startles other drivers, which is always fun.
The Muzungu says: I’ve run into Kampala’s thirsty policemen more than once….
Cyclists
Cyclists are also a nuisance but, being relatively small and slow moving, they can usually be forced out of your way, as you make you way through the city in air conditioned comfort. There are a lot of cyclists but, like pedestrians, they are neither important nor rich, so their needs can safely be ignored.
Away from the city centre, boda bodas can be a lot of fun
Boda boda (motorbike taxis)
Boda bodas, upon which entire extended families travel together (plus furniture, animals and household goods), are more of a problem, as they multiply and spread like bacteria across Kampala’s urban sprawl. They comply with no rules or regulations. In fact, it is only their evident desire to perish as quickly as possible that has any impact on controlling their numbers.
Room for one more? Baboon on a boda boda
If you are ever tempted to make use of their pillion passenger services, then ensure that you have bade fond farewell to the family first, finalised your Will and paid for the best quality medical services that any insurance policy can buy.
The Muzungu: boda bodas feature in my 50 reasons why I love Uganda
Finally, a special mention must be made of the Matatus, the majority of vehicles in the city’s congested streets. These too are a law unto themselves, overloaded with passengers (human, chicken or goat), plus suitcases, hooks of matoke, sacks of farm produce and a myriad of other items indispensable to African life. It is of course far more important to load the vehicle’s roof and boot with mattresses and rain barrels than it is to be able to see the road, as Matatus claim absolute right to do any manoeuvre at any time.
A large, 4 wheel drive vehicle (as recommended above) may help to moderate the matatus’ bullying tactics, but their insatiable enthusiasm to get to the next stop before anyone else knows no bounds. If this requires driving on footpaths, verges or the wrong side of the road, then woe betide anyone who gets in their way.
So, enjoy your trip across Kampala. It will certainly be an adventure!
The Muzungu: thanks Mark for a hilarious view of driving in Kampala! Mark enjoys creative writing and is also an expert public speaker.
Do you have a story or some advice you’d like to share? Please read my Guests Posts page for guidelines on the kinds of stories I feature on Diary of a Muzungu.
