The Canada of Africa

This is a few days late… normally my blogs are posted on Saturday but we were without power for a chunk of the weekend again so I finished my book instead of blogging. If you haven’t read Long Walk to Freedom by Nelson Mandela, you should give it a try. It’s a long book and very detailed but a fascinating read.

Given the recent horrific events in Kenya (and my heart goes out to everyone who was affected) I have to say that I am surprised that no-one from home has asked us about it. I know, I know, Kenya is not Uganda but usually Sub-Saharan Africa is painted with the same broad stroke of the paintbrush. Thank you for not assuming that if it happened in Kenya, it must mean that Uganda is not safe. Maybe you are thinking it but don’t dare say it… thank you if that is the case too!

When we went grocery shopping on Saturday, the process reminded me of the aftermath of the bombings in 2010. To refresh your memory (or to tell you about it for the first time) there were two bombings in Uganda during the final FIFA game in 2010. One was in an Ethiopian restaurant that we recently visited when the Australian van Oyen’s were here, and one in the field next to Lugogo Shopright and Game where we shop fairly frequently.

Most large grocery stores are within shopping centres. They are only stand-alone if they are smaller ones. Think IGA versus Superstore. There are no stand-alone Superstores. This Saturday we went to Nakumatt in Oasis Mall to do a bigger shop. Often we are fine with Embassy which is across from the American, not Embassy, but Mission, but sometimes we need some things like chili sauce that Embassy doesn’t have.

We always go early on Saturday because the roads get unbelievably busy and parking at the mall becomes almost impossible unless, like Sam, you pay extra and have a special mark on your license plate that gives you access to reserved spots. The school van does not have this. We left the house at 9am and arrived at Nakumatt by 9:30.

Once we got to the parking lot, Corey and I were signaled to get out of the van. Apollo then moved the van forward where it was searched, including in the glove compartment, and the undercarriage was checked with a long mirror on a pole. The checking with a mirror is normal and usually the guard just pokes his head into the van and greets us. Now, no-one is allowed into the mall area inside a vehicle unless he/she is driving.

I knew that security would be tight so I had brought a smaller purse with only my money and bandaids which Corey seems to frequently need. A woman guard called me over and opened my purse to have a thorough check inside.  I was then flagged through. Corey, however, was scanned with the wand, his pockets were searched, and he was patted down. Every man went through the same procedure. Then, when we entered Nakumatt, we went through the same security check before being allowed to shop. I normally carry my own shopping bags and often get hassled about it but eventually let through. I decided that now was not the time to take my own bags. They would have never allowed me to carry my empty bags into the shops.

I am not complaining by any means about the tightened security at the mall, the banks, the post office, and any other important building. I am fine with the whole checking my bag and patting me down (well, patting Corey down) in the name of security.

Apart from this heightened security, life goes on as normal.

The day after the hostage taking, while the event was still underway, Corey made a comment about whether or not there might be some retaliation here in Uganda but more specifically, here at the school. We have children from all surrounding countries and no doubt Somali and Kenyans boarding together in the same house. But there was nothing. The environment didn’t feel tense, people weren’t looking over their shoulder, no-one was hurling insults at others, Muslims did not have to worry about walking down the street and being assaulted. Ugandans don’t seem to work that way.

Apollo, our driver, once told me that everyone is welcome in Uganda and there are no problems. The Kabaka, or King, of Buganda which is the largest tribe in Uganda, has decreed that all Bugandans must welcome anyone as their friends. Hospitality is extended to everyone. The Kabaka has said that people who have come here have chosen to come here to either escape something at home or because they feel Uganda offers more opportunities. They therefore need to be welcomed and feel safe. What a lovely thing to tell his people. And Apollo says that the people follow what he has said because they believe what he says.

I have heard something similar before. I was once told that when people flee conflict they come to Uganda so the people in Uganda are peace-seekers. That’s why Uganda is such a peaceful country.

Yes, they are taking safety precautions but no, there is no feeling of tension just bubbling under the edge of society. I think Uganda is the Canada of Africa. Everyone is welcome and no-one is at risk. We Canadians don’t retaliate when awful things happen. We mourn as a country, we offer condolences, we issue stern statements condemning the acts, but we don’t retaliate.

I feel kinship with the Ugandans in our mutual attitudes toward others in the country. As an obvious foreigner (no amount of tanning will ever make me be mistaken for a mudugave) I don’t ever feel out of place.

My first experience with racism (apart from being told that you can always tell a Congolese woman because she wears too much make-up… which is something we were told by a Japanese woman about the Koreans) happened last week when a boy came into my office in tears to tell me that another boy had said “there’s no room for blacks at this table.” I had to pause because as far as I can tell, I am the only non-black apart from a couple East Indians and the boys involved in the issue were not East Indian. As we were coming to the root of the problem (one boy was showing off and not allowing the other boy to play basketball), the one who had been called black asked the other how he would feel if he was told that no whites were allowed to play. Huh? The boy who was being called black is Congolese and is darker skinned than the other but neither were white. There are obvious degrees of darkness but I was surprised at the radical differentiation between the two boys. Nevertheless, the comment was dealt with, the unfair playing was dealt with, the boys shook hands, and all is now fine.

What happened in Kenya is a tragedy. Everyone goes to Kenya as the Sub-Saharan country of choice. It offers better safaris apparently. But maybe the kindness and welcoming attitudes of the Ugandans need to be marketed to the international population. Those are certainly the qualities that have kept me coming back year after year.

By the way, a full solar eclipse is happening here in November. The Ministry of Tourism is using that to promote travel to Uganda. If you are free, come for this once in a lifetime event and see what I mean about the wonderful Ugandan people. We always have extra beds available! And the safaris here are pretty awesome too.