Day 2: Family Reunion in Kampala
Here I am in Kampala and feeling very good about making the trip. Never thought I’d be back to Uganda. Seeing the our homes again would be too painful, knowing the deterioration that has occured in over the last 30 years through the collapse of the old economy under Idi Amin’s regime.
Our friends, Harsha and Bharat received us at the airport. Its been 25 years since I last saw them. We did some catching up in the car. Bharat’s family and mine go back a long time when our parents, as early immigrants were establishing roots in Uganda and were an integral part of the business community that fueled the economy between the 1920’s and 1972.
Bharat a Construction Engineer came back to Uganda 18 years ago on a what was supposed to be a 2 year infrastructure project funded by the world bank. They remained in the country and have now become a part of the New Economy rebuilding Africa. Like our parents before they too have embraced a value system that enriches their lives on an everyday basis. Not having close family nearby they have made new friends who are now considered family.
They drive from Entebbe was about 45 minutes. This used to be a very quiet drive when I was here. But today with increased population there are roadside shops and markets and people everywhere. The road is busy. We stopped along the way to buy some fruits for their pet parrots and picked up some more local fruits that are rarely seen in Europe and North America like the Jack fruit and Guavas. We arrived at the gates of their beautiful house in Nakasero. A security guard came down to unlock the gates at the sound of the car. Nakesero is for the well established community. The roads are in fairly good condition. The house is open and airy with dignified and well manicured gardens around.
After unwinding and some tea we got ready to visit my brother, Pritam, and his family who I have not seen in 14 years. He is not expecting us today. He returned to Uganda when Musaveni the current President invited back the Asians who left in 1972 to reclaim their properties. My brother was mostly managed most of our businesses and properties and in Bharat’s words “He was like a “King” in the old economy”.
The drive to his house and my old neighbourhood was exciting as I recognized street names and landmarks. Things have changed and yet they remain the same. The GB £ used to be worth at least 20 Shillings, today it is ten times that value.
We arrive at Bukoto Street in Kololo, which pre-1972 was an upscale area but today is considered the Silicon Valley of Kampala, with most residences now owned by Service Providers and converted into apartments or businesses.
My brother, Pritam was sitting in the front verandah with his neighbour and friend, with children playing in the background. I jumped out of the car to greet him as he walks up the driveway. He is surprised as he was not expecting me for a few days. The little boys playing in the verandah are my nephews who look a little bewildered and appear a little shy as I give them hugs. A little shocked to hear I am their aunt. My brother and I are roughly 20 years apart not unusual for a family of ten children. I am the youngest and he is second oldest.
I asked my nephews what grades they were in and they looked a little puzzled. I had to rephrase and ask the question again. In East African eduction system you refer to primary school grades as classes and label them P1, P2 etc. for Primary 1, Primary 2 and so on. After P7, you go to Senior school for S1, S2 etc. When I left Uganda, I had just completed P7. The oldest of the 3 nephews who is 11 years old has just competed P7 and awaiting results to go to Senior school.
Uganda’s education system is the most progressive of the 3 East African countries including Kenya and Tanzania. Almost everyone speaks English even in the markets. Buganda, the region around Kampala, is also spoken. Swahili is spoken as required but not as extensively as in Kenya. My nephews are being raised with English as first language and learning Swahili or Buganda as it surrounds them. Much like how I grew up, except we also spoke Punjabi (my mother tongue), Gujerati and Hindi. I am warmly greeted by my brother’s wife she is a beautiful Rwandan woman born and raised in Uganda.
The house I grew up in is not the same. It looks old and tired. My brother describes the devastatingly poor condition he found it in 1991. The windows were missing. Every fixture of the house had been stolen. The roads were in poor condition, the rains flooded the bottom half of the house with water reaching waist high. He lost his citizenship and other important documents in one of these floods.
The house is in fair condition now. I am proud of Pritam for what he has been able to accomplish and rebuild. He now lives a simple but dignified life with his young family. I reflected back to the old days, when he drove fast cars and ran multiple businesses. Time have changed!
After this very emotional but exhilirating visit. Bharat drove us around some more in Kololo, my old neighbourhood. At dinner, Bharat and Harsha shared some more amazing stories of the early days post-1987 and how they met and made new friends.
At night, I reflected on the day and the new emotions and I was remembered one of my mother’s favourite quotes based on an old Indian Wisdom at the risk of losing it in translation:
“Yestersday’s King is todays beggar,
and Yesterday’s beggar is todays King!”
History indeed repeats itself but in unexpected ways!
