Uganda’s Green Grass: The story of a homesick woman

Kigezi hills 

Once the excitement over clean, organized streets and sophisticated infrastructure in the developed world wore off, it came down like a wet blanket -  I missed home. I observed as people rushed along pavements, up and down escalators, round and round revolving doors. There was no time to lose, no smiles to share, and eye contact? No way! Were they embarrassed by my presence? But then again they didn't know me. I could as well have been invisible. I began to miss the familiar strangers on Kampala road. The smell of wet soil after the rain. The sense of community and interdependence I'd grown to take for granted. I longed to hear the “toot toots” of taxis and the sounds of diverse languages spoken with ease. I yearned to speak Ateso, even Luganda however broken and mispronounced the syllables tumbled out. The gnawing desire  for home chewed at every fiber.

Friends and acquaintances on social media liked photos I posted of this developed world and yes, it is beautiful, efficient, and the land of opportunity. Some sighed and said “eh mama! At least you you are in America”. I counted the privilege with a grateful heart but mwana! When hunger hit – nothing compared to a nice hot meal of Matooke and chicken soup. How could I explain that cheese and grapes and the small slices of meat served for lunch – how ever fancy hors d'oeuvres may sound didn’t quite settle my stomach? How could I explain that even though I could access over 15 brands of bread in the super market the brown hot loaf from Capital Shoppers smelled and tasted way better? How could I communicate that a meal of atap and ebbo (millet bread and greens in g-nut sauce) satisfied a physical and emotional hunger? That the taste took me on a journey to Serere, under the shade of an orange tree in my father’s compound. That as I pinched a piece of atap with my hand and scooped up some soup, I was at home. At home with the world and with myself, alive and one with nature because you see as I swooshed the flies away my mind was massaged by the distant hum of cows moos and sheeps' bleats. How could I explain they were in God's garden surrounded by Uganda's natural beauty, her cool breeze and the ease of access to delicious, nutritious food?

In awe of the changing seasons and ticked them off one by one.
Spring, check; Flowers budded, scenes were breath taking, well except for the continuous rain that left the surfaces wet.
Summer, check; I enjoyed out door activities, well except for the crazy heat – Africa has nothing on American summer heat.
Autumn, check; Leaves changed color and beauty spread for miles with the cooler temperatures that made for 3 weeks of perfect weather.
Winter, check; Snow fell just like in the movies, it looked heavenly – for the first few days that is, otherwise it was a cold, dark  and nearly miserable season.
How could I communicate that even with all this little compared to Uganda’s yellow sunshine? 25 degrees centigrade all year around is worth celebrating.

“You never realize what you’ve got until its gone” and “the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence” – these two quotes ring true. As I sit at my computer and look out at the colorful fall leaves, I’m glad to experience the world outside Uganda. On the other hand I scan my house and see the papyrus mat, the calabashes and local art pieces from Uganda's arts and craft shops – pieces of memorabilia that keep the country alive for indeed there is no place like home. As we celebrate Uganda’s 55th year of independence survey this little land locked country and appreciate its friendly people, its culture, its natural beauty, its tasty food and its great weather. With certainty Uganda is a pearl, may God uphold it.

Happy 55th Independence anniversary.