He asked what I was doing in his country. I told him a little bit about Hands and what the project does in the Namuwongo slum. He said he'd lived in Kampala his whole life and didn't know the slum was there. I told him nearly 8000 people
It's a common thing; he wasn't the first Ugandan I met that was unaware.
Passing through Kampala you would never see the slum in Namuwongo. It's tucked between a railroad track and a swamp and you'd have no reason to go there. I spent pretty much every day in and out of that slum during my three months there so I like to think I, and whoever else has spent time working with Uganda Hands for Hope, has a different experience in Kampala than most. Even the many of the city locals.
Of course I think of my own city and how much time I've spent in it's own impoverished areas. The answer is, of course, not much. I often ride my bike through the North End community of Winnipeg but to be honest I often peddle faster. We don't know our own cities.
The other thing I took from this conversation - again something I had come across earlier during my stay - was that Ugandans lack a national identity. When you ask a Ugandan who they are they will more often than not identify themselves with their tribal background. They'll say, "I'm Acholi," for example, before they'll say, "I'm Ugandan," if they make that distinction at all.
What I often found is that they would often throw in a punchline about how so-and-so from so-and-so tribe was a thief, liar, cheat, and so forth. In three months it became apparent to me that even though outwardly Uganda was stable and forward moving, just below the surface simmers something anything but stable.
My airplane buddy let me know he was quite concerned about this and that he could foresee future violence surrounding tribal distinction, rights, and downright ignorance. Akin to racism, tribalism can be a moving, terrible and violent force. He was especially concerned about a future election where Yoweri Museveni - Uganda's president since 1986 - was not on the ballot.
Last week Kampala hit the international headlines when the city was brought to a standstill by rioters. A scheduled visit to Kampala by a traditional Bugandan king was being snuffed by the government and the king's supporters were unhappy about this. It's not comforting knowing that just a little shove is what it took to knock things over the edge.
The BBC reports that over 20 people were killed but I'd imagine the count could be much higher. Shooting e-mails back and forth with a few of my friends in Kampala I was glad to know that they were all safe but they gave eery reports of how streets that you could usually barely navigate during rush hour were empty. Then there were stories of breakneck vehicle chases and last ditch attempts to avoid malicious rioters. Kampala roads are hard enough to traverse on the best of days - indeed, those unfamiliar would think a normal traffic day would constitute the word 'riot' - never mind when the whole place is actually going to hell.
Things seem to have quieted down but my friend, and office manager at Hands, Matt Fast, is worried that things could get heavy again. It's an uncomfortable calm.
In the wake of the riots the use of microblogging (read: Twitter) has emerged an a topic of interest. It's free and easy and microposts can be sent via text message from a cell phone, one gadget most Ugandans of any social standing have access to.
Turns out a few Ugandans took it upon themselves to post daily events and what they were experiencing on the ground. Microblogging in this way is an incredibly powerful news and communication tool.
For an example of such, check out Solomon King's Twitter page.
For more on the Kampala riots microblogging: Asynchronous Info, Disjointed Data and Crisis Reporting.
For a more in depth look at the riots read this: Uganda - All Things Fall Apart . . . Again.
