This Story's Pages: Update from Kampala

In the old days, when people still used ships to travel across continents, perhaps the transition to a new life was a bit more gradual. During the weeks at sea, the waves would slowly wash away habits and daily routines; the sun would fade the present into memories, like brightly colored clothes left to dry in the sun for too long. People would enter an in-between-space, ready to be filled with newness. These days, you can work a few hours in the morning, have lunch with your family, spend a blurry amount of time in lines, watching movies, eating neatly organized airplane meals, and then you arrive. Even now, a month after arriving in Uganda to work and live here for the foreseeable future, it is with disbelief that I write this update. It still feels unreal that I am actually here; I wake up every morning in surprise, gratitude, and a slight bit of confusion.

I arrived in Entebbe Airport, which is looking more and more like an international airport since it was renovated in 2007 for the Queen’s visit. At night, the drive from Entebbe to Kampala is a pleasant one, with no traffic and a cool breeze, the seven hills of Kampala looking green and calm, the darkness and distance, hiding the hectic city. The next morning I went to work, with a bit of jetlag and a lot of excitement to keep me awake. The Bantwana team, all of whom I have met before, welcomed me with wonderful friendliness and kindness. We’ve been busy since I got here, and with all the other changes in my life, work has provided a base in which to ground in. It has been great to be so much closer to the projects I work on, and in the coming weeks, as I visit all our field partners, I look forward to learning so much more.

Just two days after I arrived, chaos engulfed Kampala. I will not even pretend to understand the complexities and multiple reasons behind the violent riots that spread through Kampala for three days. The simplest explanation I heard numerous times was that before President Museveni’s rule kingdoms were abolished in Uganda. Museveni, some say in an effort to win allies, allowed kingdoms to return as cultural institutions. The largest kingdom in Uganda is Buganda, and its king is the Kabaka. In September, the Kabaka was invited to officially open a youth summit, an event with the government felt was more political than cultural, and he was denied to travel to the event. Buganda supporters started to set up for the Kabaka’s visit. The police intercepted the set-up, the violent clashes started between youth and police. The mood of violence quickly spread around Kampala, with numerous clashes around the city, which were exacerbated with general looting and lawlessness that attach on to massive riots. In general, people felt that the riots became larger than the issue itself, a venting of anger from youth, unemployed and uncertain about their future, that they have been left behind. It was very strange, as the part of Kampala where I live and work was largely unaffected, and it was hard to believe that the pictures coming in on the news were only kilometers away from us. Our office has a mzee (old man) who guards during the day, and he is so kind and gentle, I often felt that if anything happened our first instinct would be to guard him. While I felt very safe throughout the affair, a close friend got caught in the middle of the riots, and although she came back unharmed it was scary. Watching on the news how quickly Kampala fell into madness was alarming, especially with elections coming in 2011. With Pierre in Afghanistan, and violence in Kampala, my heart was heavy for a few days with the brutality that human beings are capable of creating. We have such potential to create so much beauty, yet so often we destroy. Fortunately, order returned fast. The city was heavily militarized for a few days, and life returned to normal. Only days after riots, markets were bustling again, a true testament to the resiliency of Ugandans. My sincere hope is that these riots will serve as a warning, a glimpse into the consequences of exclusion, discrimination, and violent confrontation, and in the long-run provide Uganda with more advocates for peace and justice; only time will tell.

With stability restored to the city, I started my endeavor to get settled and catch up with friends. I met with a real-estate broker, in a dark wooden shed with one bench next to a large market, and although I was a bit skeptical at the beginning, once we went out on the town, he was incredibly helpful. I really liked the first apartment he showed me, a small two-bedroom place, in a cute neighborhood. The dirt road is lined with little stalls selling basic groceries. I think of them as magic stalls as the vendors fit more into the tiny sheds than many department stores. On the street and there are lots of kids running around, with the occasional goats or cows passing by. There is always a group of women sitting around, washing clothes, cooking chapattis, and taking care of the small kids. When Pierre came for a day, between his Afghanistan and Democratic Republic of Congo consultancies, he saw the place, and we decided to take it. We are slowly getting to know people around us, and Pierre has already found some friends to play football with. My best neighborhood friends so far are Gideon, whose probably three years old, and Carol, most likely five years old, who hug me with such delightful enthusiasm each time I get home, as their mother greets ‘welcome back.’ In the past two weeks, since Pierre has been back from Congo, the apartment has progressed tremendously, and feels like a comfortable little home.

I have also gotten to see some old friends, including many of my Gulu friends and sisters, some were visiting Kampala and some live here now. Betty, my Ugandan mother, finally got to meet Pierre, and with our wedding coming soon, she reminded him of the Ugandan custom of paying dowry. Betty said that I am a good catch, Pierre is supposed to bring many cows, so many that when they stand in front of me once should not be able to see my legs! We might just organize a big party for everyone and call it even.

One of my Gulu sisters, Clare, took me to her friend’s introduction ceremony, which is considered the traditional wedding (often followed by a church wedding and reception, though usually people wait a few years for those to save up money). The introduction is when the man’s family comes to the bride’s home to negotiate on the bride price, or dowry. The negotiations take place in a closed room, and neither bride nor groom is involved. The bride is called in a few times, in case the groom’s family wants to ‘inspect’ anything; at this introduction the bride was called once so they could hear her voice and see her teeth. The women wear the traditional and colorful gomez dresses. The negotiations are supposed to take long as a sign of respect. These days, the price is usually agreed upon ahead of time, and the negotiations are part of the ceremony. I was told that in the past, sometimes negotiations took so long into the night, that people would sleep there and begin again the next day. I had another appointment that evening, and negotiations took long enough, that I actually had to leave before the party, though I was told an agreement was reached and a good celebration followed.

I also got to take a trip to Nairobi for work and got to see many of my Kenyan friends whom I have missed so much and I am so excited that being back in East Africa I will get to see more regularly.

On October 9, Uganda celebrated 47 years of independence. Pierre and I went to see the national celebrations. There was a very nice podium set up, for President Museveni and his guests of honor, which included Salva Kir, President of South Sudan. For many hours, thousands of people marched in enthusiastic military style in front of the president, each group carrying a banner, and expressing their love for God, Museveni, and the country. It was interesting that the national independence celebrations were very much party-based, all people marching were supporters of the NRM, Museveni’s party, and the theme for the day was ’47 years of independence, 23 years of stability,’ which is how long Museveni has been president.

For the next few months, Pierre and I look forward to getting to know more of Uganda, and of Kampala, which is a new city for both of us. It is a fascinating city, with parts of Kampala feeling quite rural and calm, and others so busy and hectic with commercial activity. It is a city where walking to work every morning I struggle with the heavy traffic and pollution, but also stop to admire the lush green hills and beautiful purple flowers covering the trees with such abundance that they fall into the gutters. It is a city where children in ironed uniforms walk every morning to the best schools in the country, and street kids walk on the same roads picking up trash, or begging. It is a city of contrasts, in a country filled with possibilities, and the exploring is just beginning.

Thank you for being in my life,

Inbal

Some views in Kampala