Happy. Happy. Happy.
I am here and it is lovely. Oh, how I have missed this place so much. If one was to somehow have a second home, Uganda would be mine. Coming in from the airport, Kampala seemed both busier and more polluted. And yet, everything was still the same – the precariously perched tomatoes on the side...
On leaving…
“You must have great pain,” said the kind man in the light yellow golf shirt as I told him I was leaving Uganda, and wasn’t sure if I would return. We walked towards the airplane, more than 500 metres away. Apparently I missed the bus that took the other passengers there. I didn’t care. I...
On arrival
Uganda explodes around me. It smells of hot, freshly roasted nuts mixed with burning garbage. The noise is constantly loud – with honking and the roar of motorbikes at every turn. As I walk down the red dirt road, the people whisper “mzungu, mzungu” and giggle. The women at the dilapidated shack on the side...
The Ugliest Woman in Uganda
Yes folks, that’s her. Just look up. In the past month, I’ve discovered something about how Africans perceive the way I look. Apparently, I am a hideous human being in their eyes. It’s all rather hilarious actually and started about a month ago when somebody at work slipped me an ad from the newspaper and...
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