My journey to Uganda and first impressions of Kampala

Due to needing to send my passport back to the UK for replacement, I am visiting Uganda for about a month.  This is because South Sudan is not a safe place to stay without a passport in the current situation.  I am staying with a pastor who runs an orphanage on the outskirts of Kampala called Caring Hearts.

I spent my last day of term in Nimule in school, hurriedly marking the maths paper for a Primary 3 class in the absence of the class teacher, who had decided to start her holiday earlier without bothering to mark her classes’ papers. 

Then, in the early afternoon I took a boda boda (motorcycle taxi) from Cornerstone to the border checkpoint.  I got my visa for Uganda from a particularly friendly official, who gave me a two month visa for the price of one month and asked about life in Nimule.  He declared that we were neighbours because Nimule is so close to Uganda.  Then I ate a very good chicken and chips at a stall before walking to the bus stand for the minibus to Gulu.  Unfortunately a bus had recently left so that I had quite a long wait on an almost empty bus.  Minibuses in this part of the world, whether in Sudan, South Sudan or Uganda never leave until packed full of passengers.  I was seated next to a Ugandan man who was very impatient with the delay.  I have fully adjusted to the expectation that everything takes a long time so just sat quietly like a true local.  My fellow passenger complained and tried to get the driver to leave in a most un-African manner.  Finally another passenger said that complaining was not helpful and to just wait, which quietened him.

The road from the border to Gulu has improved out of all recognition since my last trip two months ago.  The road is much smoother, less dusty and faster so that we arrived while it was still light at about 5pm in spite of the late start. I went to my regular hotel, made full use of their complementary business centre to make sure I had all the necessary paperwork for my passport application and checked my emails, ate a delicious fish stew and went to bed. 

On Saturday morning I ate breakfast and then headed straight for the bus stop for Kampala, buying some samosas for lunch on the way.  Unlike the previous day, the bus was almost ready to go.  We left at 8am, making several stops where people could buy food and drink from vendors who came to the bus windows.  It was a tarmacked road passing through mainly farmed land, villages and towns.  One area had a big sign saying ‘Welcome to Rhino Country’, which was a bit surprising as the land seems so populated and cultivated.  The most impressive part of the journey was when we crossed the Nile on a bridge over a very dramatic gorge.  It looked a good spot for white water sports (assuming people were willing to risk the crocodiles and hippos). 

We arrived in Kampala at about 4.30pm and Pastor Paul fetched me very efficiently following mobile conversations with my neighbouring passenger, who told me where to get off. 

What I didn’t expect is the hills.  The whole of Kampala is built up on quite steep hills, often with important buildings at the top of them.  It is also very green.

How does Kampala compare to Nimule?

I have arrived during the rainy season, which is a great deal rainier than it is in South Sudan.  In South Sudan I have become used to heavy bursts of thunder showers preceded by very dramatic winds.  It is all over very quickly and then the weather is hot and sunny again.  Here in Kampala the rain has a more persistent character, so we go through days and nights of rain.  There is a lot of mud outside in consequence.  It is a lot cooler than South Sudan and I find myself wishing I had warmer clothes with me.  It is wonderful to be able to sleep straight through the night without being covered in sweat and needing a drink.  I even sometimes use a cover. 

People are much better off than in South Sudan.  A paunch is not necessarily a sign of a corrupt official.  I have become used to women constantly pumping water at the bore hole and carrying it home on their heads, while carrying a baby on their backs.  This does not happen at all in Kampala.  Babies are carried in people’s arms.  Water is piped.  Women have the time to become educated, even to university level.

Food is a great deal more plentiful, more varied in type and much cheaper than in South Sudan.  I bought a huge avocado for only 500 Ugandan Shillings.  The currency in South Sudan doesn’t have an equivalent that low in value.

Because Uganda has a stable government and has been independent for far longer than South Sudan, things are far more efficiently regulated than in South Sudan.  For example, people are not allowed to hawk their wares in the centre of town.  The roads are kept clean.  The Caring Hearts orphanage is expected to comply with government regulations, so that during the holidays children must go to foster homes to get a taste of family life.  They are also supposed to have proper beds and accommodation rather than mattresses on the floor.

Much as it might be a more comfortable existence in Kampala, I look forward very much to getting back to Nimule.  Comfort is not nearly as satisfying as being needed.  I had a call from the matron at Cornerstone saying the children are missing me.