Category: Africa

Uganda, land of contrast.  I have shared posts about my life in Uganda that show how idyllic life here can be for me.  I have constant access to amazing fruits and vegetables for a fraction of what it costs at home.  Friends, local site seeing, in country travel to amazing locales, bars with the best live music.  I love my job and my coworkers and have the satisfaction of working for an organization that helps people to help themselves.

But today, as I walked home after my pilates class, leisurely dawa tea and shopping for mimosa fixings for brunch tomorrow with friends, I saw another side of life right here in my neighbourhood.  Not a new observation for me, as I walk by every day, but today I am compelled to try to put it in words.

I have no pictures to share of the people I describe.  These are my neighbours.  Regular people who were simply born to a much different, harder reality that I was.  My elevated position in this society is 100% attributable to where and when I was born.  As my mother would say when we passed a person begging on the streets at home – There, but for the grace of God, go I.  Thanks Mum.

I walked from the shops, up Tank Hill Road in Muyenga, a nicer area of Kampala. I passed some nice restaurants, a football field where some of the more affluent (middle class?) children were playing a match.  I turned down Kironde Road and walked downhill past several NGOs and nicer private homes.  I said high to several people I see regularly.  I have lived here for a year so we are familiar with each other.

Tank Hill Road – Photo by Kim Kennard

Kironde Road

At the bottom of the road I hit a different area entirely.  First there is a Bodaboda stage.  Hardly a formal transit station by first world standards, yet it fulfills the function just the same.  I turn right and walk through it.  Is it a slum? Not really, but probably just because it is so small.

There are a couple small shops immediately ahead.  Mud brick buildings operated by local women.  Truly industrious women who are always working.   They sell what seems to be an assortment of everything a household could need including women’s clothing, which they put out on mannequins every morning.

Another woman sits roadside right beside the shops, always working as well.  In the morning I see her peeling cassava and making food for other locals on her small charcoal stove.  After work she has usually switched to roasting corn cobs.  I say hello to her when I walk by as she is husking ear after ear.

She is sitting in front of a small community of dwellings.  They are basic mud brick dwellings but the ground around the homes is always impeccably swept.  Clothes are always on the line drying.  Everybody, from adult to the smallest child, is clean and dressed in clean, pressed clothing.  I am almost positive that today I saw at least one door that is just a sheet.  I suppose theft is unlikely when you have nothing.  The mosquitos must be hell at night though.

I stroll along and cross another NGO area where it looks a bit more upscale again.  Then I go through one last little spot where my immediate neighbours live.  A bit of an outdoor pub – two televisions showing football and a small pool table.  The pub is in front of a slightly larger and more official looking shop.

Across from this pub is a small shed that functions as a store for a lady I have such respect for. Life is clearly a struggle.  She has children.  At least two – a toddler boy and girl between 6 and 8.  Every morning when I go by she is working, often with another woman or two.  They make dough for chapatis and then she makes and sells rolex (fr. roll eggs) a chapati with and omelet on it, rolled up like a burrito.  In the restaurants in this neighbourhood they sell between 8,000 and 20,000 Uganda shillings, depending on how fancy you go.  She sells a single egg rolex for 1k and a two egg rolex for 1,500.  I have tried many and hers are as good as the rest.  Basic but tasty and fresh.

Today though, what struck me was the people doing their laundry.  I have a front loading washer and nice clothes lines on the balcony to hang my things to dry.  They are washing in a small plastic tub.  Not even with a washboard to help them out.  Just tubs, some kind of soap and brushes.  And then they will hang on the line.  Somehow keeping them all clean despite the dust and red dirt that is always blowing around.

This is not 100 meters away from my apartment.  So I recognize my privileged existence.  My multiple blessings.  I am thankful for all that I have.  I am thankful that I get to be here.  I am thankful to be part of this community.

The only business I have patronized is the last lady, buying my rolex and the odd vegetable.  I say hello how are you, every morning and evening like I would to any neighbour.  Sometimes I stop for a short conversation, so long as I am not intruding on a gathering of her and her friends.

In comparison to the well maintained football pitch on Tank Hill Road, sometimes the local boys hold their own matches in this field.  Usually a ball that is barely holding together and some of the boys are in flip flops or bare feet.  The beauty of football/soccer is that it can be played almost anywhere and you just need something roundish as the ball.

If this area was an astrological sign it would be Gemini to represent the two extremes.

These pictures here are from similar areas, if more rural.  The stores and houses look much the same.  I share to help add visual to my words.

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October 5th is my Afriversary – I landed in Harare, Zimbabwe October 5th 2018 just past midday. It has been an incredible 365 days for me.

There have been challenges for sure, but no regrets. Of course my social media is a highlight reel, not to be phony but because I enjoy sharing the positive.

My challenges have included times of self imposed isolation and loneliness, feeling out of place and issues in the romance department. But that all happens in Canada too! Haha!

It is common here for bodaboda drivers to ride by and steal the bag from your shoulder or the phone from your hand. The first was attempted on me in front of my mum, aunt and sister. I was pulled off my feet and bruised a bit but he didn’t get my bag! Unfortunately my mum wasn’t so lucky when a thug reached in the car and nabbed her phone out of her hand. With the window 3/4 rolled up!

I have also struggled with adapting to a much lower income. And I am going through a divorce which is never fun.

Now back to the highlight reel!

I have accumulates 26 stamps in my passport – I counted this morning 🙂 Zimbabwe, Botswana, Zambia, Uganda and Kenya. I’ve spent hours in Ethiopia and Rwanda as well but just in the airports which doesn’t really count.  All of this travel and my luggage was only lost once!

Random photos from Zim, Zambia and Botswana

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I am a fan of sadza/posho/nsima/ugali, braai, certain recipes for matoke, ugandan pineapple and the tiny natural bananas. I have also acquired a taste for the greens we get as a side with many African meals, a bitter spinach dish.

I am blessed with some new great friends and professional connections.

I was able to introduce my Mum and sister to Africa and they want to return. And my Aunt’s love of the continent has been refreshed.

I have jumped into the gorge at Victoria Falls and ridden a horse along the mighty Nile. I had the best girls’ weekend at the breathtaking and mysterious Chinhoyi Caves (see December 10 2018 post).

I am somewhat of a veteran and Kampala life now. I use SafeBoda for longer trips (Uber for motorbike taxis) and street bodas closer to home. And Uber is perfect for night rides and those with friends.

Harper women on the Nile

Sezibwa Falls

Sunset in Muyenga

Fuego with my family

Goretti’s Drummers

I will be home for 20 days in December. Why do I return to Canada in the winter when that is one of the things I am trying to avoid! But I will be back before the new year.

No details, but I do have a job offer for 2020 – an employee position in a new country. Still the part of Africa though. I don’t want to jinx it by announcing prematurely as it is contingent on a program award.

I am considering a  Q&A post, so if you have any questions or things you are interested in, please let me know!

‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ Matthew 25:40

This was such a day.  It was a Sunday and I feel like I got to live the gospel, just a little.

The plan was fairly low key and even involved me buying new shoes.  Derrick and I were meeting at the usual place, Café Javas in Old Kampala.  We were going to take some clothes to a young woman and maybe talk with some of the street kids, likely also getting them some food.  But afterwards we were going to shop the Sunday street market.  I was planning on getting some new black flats for work because mine are looking a little ratty.  And I was also considering buying a new backpack.

Phase 1 – According to plan

We did manage to find the young woman Derrick wanted to give the clothes to.  She lives in the slum and is a roadside vendor of sorts.  She wasn’t in her usual spot when we arrived so we took a little tour into a bottle recycling lot to ask after her.  When we walked back by her usual place she was there.  She was happy with the clothing Derrick brought her, and we also left her with one item from my bag – a sweater.  We took the rest of my things on to another place for other girls or women to access.

I was amused that she was wearing a red I am Canadian shirt.  She consented to a photo with me, and then also in one of her new shirts.  She was friendly and polite and it as a pleasure meeting her.

Phase 2 – Mark’s place

From there we walked on to a new place Derrick decided to show me, where we could leave the clothes.  I think it was a spur of the moment thought for him, but it was meant to be.

The place we went to is a large room, though I was shown later how it is actually 3 smaller rooms but without the walls in place.  There was a man working with several boys, teaching them to box.  They were clearly very into the lesson.  We were greeted by Mark, the man who runs the operation there for the benefit of the street kids and other children in the neighbourhood.

Mark showed me a table with African carvings and some paintings displayed.  He explained that one of the things he does for the young people is teach them carving and painting (he may have people come in to teach on a voluntary basis.  It was a bit loud because the boys were boxing)

The place is somewhere the young people can come to hang out, sleep and be safe.  There were some boys sleeping along the walls in the area where the boxing was going on. You know they had to be exhausted because that would not be an easy place to sleep.

The middle section is where I was talking with Mark.  Then in the third section were three more boys sleeping.

Phase 3 – The clinic

These poor fellows were sick.  One had already received malaria treatment, so his sleeping was part of his healing.  But two of the boys had not yet seen a doctor.  It’s not an option to seek medical help without any money.  Derrick looked at the boys and decided he had to take them to the clinic.  So we headed off with the two sick boys and one other boy who was helping the sickest of the two walk.  We were also joined by one more boy along the way.

My mother senses were firing hard on the walk.  Derrick led the way, the second sick boy and the late addition were next and I decided to pull up the rear.  I didn’t want that poor sick child falling or having issues without someone there to catch him and help him up.  So I noticed fairly quickly that he was barefoot.  I know it’s not cold in Kampala, but most people at least have flip flops.  My heart broke.  I wanted to get him shoes immediately and planned to get them before we left him.  It didn’t happen, but for good reason.

When we got to the little clinic in Kisenyi, the doctor was able to get to the boys fairy quickly.  There was only one patient in the front area, a young woman their who looked like she was getting some fluids or medicine via syringe.  The boys had blood drawn and we learned they both have malaria, and severe enough that the doctor wanted to keep them and put them on IV fluids overnight.  The older of the two boys also has typhoid, which explains why he needed help walking.

I cannot imagine how they would be doing if Derrick had not taken charge and gotten them to the doctor.  I was more than happy to use my shoe money to cover the medical costs.  Derrick went back later and the boys were still at the clinic, still weak but sleeping.  When he checked on them the following day they were both healthy enough for him to get them something to eat.

Phase 4 – waiting, talking, walking eating

While we were waiting for the doctor’s diagnosis, we went outside to sit.  In the same way I describe in my first “Derrick” post City Centre Sunday, the street boys flock to him.  The doctor gave me a chair to sit on which it felt rude to decline, so I wasn’t right in the thick of the conversation.  It did allow me to get this photo, which I think shows how truly engaged Derrick is with these youth, and how they look up to him, trust and respect him.  And I think he also represents some hope because he was one of them.  The one boy had this amazing calendar pendant around his neck.  I got to feel smart because it was me that figured it how the calendar mechanism works.

Once we were given the diagnosis and paid the clinic, it was time to get the remaining entourage some food and drink.  Given the medical bills we had just paid, the cash situation ruled out getting everyone a full meal.  Instead we went back to the same place as my first day and got the boys chapati and water again.  2 of the boys really didn’t want chapati, so Derrick sent them off with a small amount of money to get something else.

Again the two oldest boys expressed their gratitude and then they politely walked off to enjoy their meal.  There was one boy remaining and Derrick had another plan for him

Phase 5 – full meal deal and a pair of shoes

We took this boy into a restaurant.  I am not sure how to describe it, because I don’t want my first world friends to view it in a negative way.  It was bustling.  There were several different “kitchens” serving people.  So many tables.  An organized chaos of sorts.  I was amazed by what the woman running our area was able to produce from just a series of small clay cooking pots, and a deep freezer/fridge full of beverages.

He received a plate of rice, matoke and meal and a bowl with a large piece of chicken with the juices.  We were at a small table so the woman in charge ordered him to wash his hands (there is always a hand washing station) and then sat him at a larger table. He ate EVERYTHING.  He cleaned the plate entirely and I sneaked a peak as he drank the juice after making sure he got every piece of meat off the chicken bones.  He finished up his pepsi and washed his hands and we set off again.

While walking to get him the meal I noticed that he was also barefoot and I pointed that out to Derrick.  So the final thing we did before parting ways with this last youth was get him a pair of new sandals so he doesn’t have to walk around barefoot any longer.

It was such a full and rewarding day.  I am truly blessed.

Recently I spent a Sunday afternoon exploring some of city centre Kampala with a new friend.  Derrick was the photographer at a friend’s birthday party and we got to chatting about pictures, life etc.  He has an inspiring story that I hope to share with you soon, but the portion that is especially relevant to this post is that he spent some of his childhood as a street kid.  He was given the opportunity to get off the street and into school and is now a 21 year old journalism student at Makerere University in Kampala.

I don’t want to spend all of my time in Africa in the comfort of the expat circle.  I want to see and know more of Uganda and it’s people, so I am thrilled when I get the chance to do it.  Derrick offered to take me through the slum to see some of the street boys. He regularly visits them and makes sure they get a little something to eat.

So we met Sunday around 2 at the city centre Cafe Javas, which is basically an African Starbucks.  I indulged my basic bitch self and had an iced caramel mocha, as usual.

We then headed out to explore.  Sunday there is a full on market on the city centre street so I was thankful I didn’t bring much money.  Can’t shop without currency!

We decided to visit the Uganda National Mosque.  It is a beautiful building and also has a tower that affords amazing views of the whole city.

The route Derrick chose to the Mosque took us through the slum area where the street boys hang out.  It may seem like a crazy thing for this Canadian chick to do, but Derrick goes regularly and I was perfectly safe.  Almost as soon as we walked into the area  a gaggle of boys descended on us, ranging from my shoulder height to several inches taller.  They were obviously familiar with and fond of Derrick.  The tallest (oldest?) took Derrick’ hand and they walked on ahead.  I followed immediately behind with the others.  They were respectful and polite.  Only one made a small overture for me to give him food/money, but only once.

Derrick led us to a small shop and ordered each of the seven boys a chapati.  I tried to quietly slip him 20,000 Uganda shillings to pay for the food but I was not as subtle as I hoped.  With the 20k, the boys all got a chapati and a bottle of water.  And there was change.  20,000 UGX is approximately $7 Canadian.  So for $5 they all had at least one thing to eat that day.  I know I failed at being subtle because all of the boys thanked me before they happily headed off to enjoy the fresh hot food.

I hope to do it again.  Derrick and I are planning a series of interviews/stories to introduce some of the boys.  I will ask for and hopefully get some pictures with them as well.  I also hope that Derrick will share his full story as well, maybe even write it for me.  His story shows there is hope for the others, with the right supports and opportunity.

After we left the boys the afternoon took a turn back to the touristy.  We walked over to the Mosque.  I paid a modest admission of 15,000 shillings.  A lovely lady wrapped a scarf around my legs and my head and shoulders and then we headed in to the building.  We joined a tour that had just started.

From Wikepedia:  The Uganda National Mosque is a mosque located at Kampala Hill in the Old Kampala area of Kampala, Uganda. Completed in 2006, it seats up to 15,000 worshipers and can hold another 1,100 in the gallery, while the terrace will cater for another 3,500. Colonel Muammar Gaddafi of Libya commissioned the mosque as a gift to Uganda, and for the benefit of the Muslim population. Uganda has many mosques but this one is a skyscraper mosque.

The completed mosque was opened officially in June 2007 under the name Gaddafi National Mosque, and housed the head offices of the Uganda Muslim Supreme Council.It was renamed “Uganda National Mosque” in 2013 following the death of Colonel Gaddafias the new Libyan administration was “reluctant to rehabilitate the mosque under the old name.”

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The final portion of the tour took us up 304 stairs to the top of the tower.  The views did not disappoint!  This is just a sample.  You can walk around the entire circle and see the whole city.

After the tour we weren’t finished with the day.  We strolled over to the Kampala National Theatre to see what was going on there.  There was an event but it was already underway so we did not go in.  At this point we were close to 10k so we needed to push the odometer over that limit.  Obviously we couldn’t stop short of such an achievement.

We rested on the grass of the garden behind the theatre for a while and then decided to walk on.  All the way to Lugogo Mall to see if there was a hockey game going on.  *Canadian clarification – field hockey.

We watched a bit of a game and at this point I was ready to head home and rest up! According to the app on my phone we covered 12 kms!  I wish I had worn my heart monitor so I could how you the entire route we walked.  It was insane but very enjoyable.  A great Sunday.

The Equator – Been there!

I have stayed in my Kampala hood of Muyenga for so much of my time here. This past Saturday I ventured much further, and I made a real adventure of it.

First, early last week I consulted Trip Advisor for things to do around Kampala. I used the app so much while in Cambodia, so it is a tried and true friend.

I found Free Guided Walking Tours Kampala, who offer a variety of outings and accept payment through tips at whatever the customer can afford and feels appropriate. I will be doing some walking tours in the city, hopefully one this weekend but first – the equator!

Steve, our guide set our meeting point as Cafe Javas right center in a very busy part of the city at 9am (not downtown though per m coworker) I got a SafeBoda to the spot with enough time left to get a caramel mocha and croissant.

You can take the girl away from Starbucks but she will find a way to scratch the itch!

Soon Lucas joined us and the three of us trecked through some very crowded busy streets to the even busier “taxi station” It was a crazy busy massive lot loaded with mini vans, matatus, mainstream affordable transportation in Africa.

*Steve is a young man from Uganda.  He lives in Kampala but grew up in the country.  Lucas is 20, from Belgium and here on an internship with a company from home*

I chuckled along the way as Lucas and I followed Steve single file like little ducklings. Every now and then someone would shout “Hey Muzungo” at one of us. I read that was common but it doesn’t happen in Muyenga which is heavily populated with muzungos.

We piled in to our matatu. We were the last 3, giving the taxi its full compliment of 12. And off we went on our 70some kilometer journey to the center of the earth (hey, sort of)

We arrived safe and sound to, well not very much other than the equator.

There some shops, a restaurant and the equator to see when you get off the bus. Thankfully Lucas paid the 10 000 shillings to see the Flower Experiment. I’m sharing his videos and you can also find it on YouTube.

There are three funnels/bowls set up, one in the northern hemisphere, one in the southern and one right on the equator. Water is poured in and steadied, the flower is dropped on the surface and then they let the water drain out through the funnel. It spins in opposite directions in each hemisphere but on the equator – nothing!

They are so close together that it seems impossible that such extreme differences exist. The equator is more than an arbitrary line!

After the experiment we popped into a few shops and then back into a matatu home!

I picked up a shirt for my son-in-law and a key chain for myself. The shops had some pretty interesting stuff.

It is worth adding that the washroom at the equator is quite clean.  It costs 300 shillings but it is worth it. I discovered after use that the stall to the left had a western toilet that was already occupied, but this clean porcelain international model served just fine!

We had a transfer on the way back at a smaller taxi station. I took pictures this time because I wasn’t concerned about my phone being nabbed.

And then a cow appeared! Of course, exactly what one expects to see at a busy transit station!

It was an inexpensive trip – 8000 shillings there, 7000 back, roughly $5.50 Canadian total!

I was home before 3:30 pm. In time to get to the supermarket and have a nice dinner!

Barely a week into my job in Uganda I attended a team workshop in Nairobi. It was a great introduction to the regional team, many of whom are new within the last year and even 6 months. I did not see much of Nairobi as we only left the convent grounds once, when we went out for dinner on Friday evening. We arrived two days after a bomb attack in the city so venturing out didn’t feel wise.

I want to give an appreciative shout out to Kenya Immigration. I filled out the e-visa application less than 24 hours before arriving in country. Obviously it was not yet approved. After my tedious relationship with Zimbabwe Immigration *do I dare post what I wrote about that* I was certain I would have to pay again at the Nairobi airport in order to get into the country. NOPE! The Immigration officer at the immigration desk simply directed me to the immigration office when I told her I had applied and paid online. In the office, the fellow pulled up my application, took a quick look and said I was all good. He wrote approved on the printout I had of my application and I was good to go. I filled out the declaration and was through immigration in no time. Kudos Kenya!

As I say in the title, our event was held at a convent. The Dimesse Sisters Kenya to be exact. You can find them here: Dimesse Sisters

The only real downside to the venue was the 7pm curfew, which seriously hindered our ability to socialize outside of the formal team events. The food was very good, the rooms were clean and sufficiently comfortable and the building and grounds quite lovely. The mosquitos rivalled what I am used to in Northern Canada in quantity, if not size, so I was grateful for the mosquito netting.

There are 4 small tortoises living in the inner garden of the compound which were an ongoing source of amusement for me and my colleagues. I also encountered a little chameleon on two different mornings. Since I help a couple of them at Snake World in Zimbabwe I was brave enough to pick up the little creature and interact with it.

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I took a ton of pictures of the convent grounds and my creature friends. I will definitely be returning to Kenya for a true visit to see more of Nairobi and more of the country.