THE PEARL OF AFRICA

19 OCTOBER 2025

An Ancient Map of Uganda

“For magnificence, for variety of form and colour, for profusion of brilliant life – bird, reptile, beast and for vast scale’ Uganda is truly the Pearl of Africa”

Sir Winston Churchill

19 October 2025. 1130am

Samson the Bolt driver is prompt. It’s a Sunday. So the roads are clear.

Besides, everyone who owns a car is in Bondo ---- burying Baba!

So thankfully the roads are clear.

1415 hrs JKIA

Long queues at Terminal 1A. The order lasts but a few precious minutes. Then a stewardess asks for Juba passengers. There is a scurry for the new queue which has totally caused chaos amongst the other passengers. After some arguments and jostling, 2 uneven queues develop.

We trudge painfully slowly towards the two counters where the not-bothered stewardesses are trying their best to slow down. As though defiantly and silently daring you, "You can do nothing to me!”

Eventually I get my boarding pass. And head into the duty-free areas after a brief pit stop at Immigration.

As I stroll, Pooja and Meshak join me. Pooja needs some food so we head to Java. She orders some sandwiches and fries.

Hunger Pangs (of others, not mine!) supersede my walking addiction ... I give in and join them at the table but did not partake in the meal - controlled calorific intake! 

Pooja and Meshak devour the fries and veggy sandwiches.

Tabasco sauce is used to while away the time as we await for boarding via Gate 15. The meal is a belabored - almost Buddhist ritual meal - I am not in a hurry ... so I while away with chit-chats.

As time slowly trudges along - the duo add the touch of Tabasco with ketchup. I share the extra cup of Malindi Tea Latte.

The complaints of hungry tummies have significantly reduced. My ears are feeling significantly better.

We head to the departure lounge after Pooja’s short meal. Seems like a full flight. A large contingent of consultants forms our team. We chitchat away on everything and nothing.

Then Tom spills the beans; “Yes, the flight is delayed by 45 minutes.” Why are we not surprised? Kenya Airways is living up to its reputation. “Is anyone listening?” No one cares. As the sheng saying goes, “Utadooo?”

I didn’t realize it. We are a large team. our consultants team, KeNHA and our hosts who are waiting for us in Kampala.

The more the merrier!

The aircraft itself hasn’t arrived. So we shall keep waiting. I decide not to just sit. My Isebania brothers from the mosque project call me to clarify some details. I dutifully do the needful. The wait continues. The KQ staff are aloof and remain as unavailable as they possibly can. If they could hide somewhere they would!

I call up Muna on WhatsApp video. And she pleasantly answers with Khalid my grandson at her shoulder. My heart skips several beats. I so love my family especially my grandchildren. Khalid insists on conversing with me in his own language. The language of a one year old. God has blessed me with angels in my life. I cannot be ungrateful in any way! “Thank you oh Lord!”

We board. The flight is full. Seems a good route for KQ. It’s a short flight so comfort is not too important. We can bear it for one and half hour.

The PA System crackles to life. “Jambo, ladies and gentlemen….. flight time is given as 55 minutes flying at 32000ft above mean sea level”

The usual safety announcements as the plane is tugged in reverse away from the carousel that led us into the plane.

The Embraer 190 jet takes off. Abit slowly as though the engines are struggling with the load. As we become airborne, the wheels vibrate in uncomfortable manner. KQ! Surely, those who have milked this entity to its knees should be brought to book! Does anyone care? Impunity is everywhere!

The cumulus clouds dominate the skyline. No cirrus clouds in vicinity. No cumulo-nimbus clouds too! An ominous sign? Indeed, because as I put the final editting touches to this post (several months later) - it is clear the rains have failed).

The view at 33,000ft.

The rains have delayed. Do the clouds seem to say something? Indeed, they did!

I wonder! I hope not --- against hope!

We are a rain-fed economy. And any change or upheaval in the climatic patterns have devastating effect on our people, especially the poor and not -so-well-provided peoples. And these are the significantly larger proportion of Kenyans.

The clouds are portraying a gloomy picture. I say a silent prayer; “Oh God please bless us with plentiful and beneficial rains! Ameen.”

We fly over Lake Victoria. The largest fresh water lake in Africa and the second largest in the world. The reservoir for the Mighty (and almost divine) River Nile!

The captain announces landing procedures. “This is your captain. Welcome once again. We shall shortly commence our decent into Entebbe, a beautiful lakeside city. The temperature on the grounds are a warm 27 degrees Celsius.”

As the aircraft descends, I make out homesteads scattered in this, the Pearl of Africa.

A whisp of white smoke rises from a distant village. Tell tale signs of charcoal burning!

Wherever you go in Africa, this is a constant. Successive regimes and colonial masters have ignored the need for environmentally friendly policies for energy needs of our simple humble people. Our peoples have been relegated to perpetual poverty and this cycle is almost similar to generational bondage.

Not too different from slavery. Back to medieval ages!

Just that this time it’s been institutionalized, legalized and in fact embedded into constitutions of our nations!

Everyone is complicit and silent on this. Capitalism dictates that we should not rock the boat lest we all fall into penury!

Neither the churches nor mosques nor the leaders have ever sat down to address these bondages. Shame on us!

And every cycle of election, we re-elect the same cartoons to high offices and allow them to loot, lie and subjugate the poverty-stricken populace to their knees! The cycle continues. God is watching ... He is indeed!

We definitely need a revolution of our minds.

As we say in Kiswahili, “Kama mbaya, mbaya!”

Enough said in anger!

We land safely in the Southerly direction over the Lake. Hyacinth dominates the nearby jetties, almost suffocating the shores and beaches. And by so doing; suffocating the poor fishermen and their families who depend on this resource! Do the leaders care? Simple ... No, they dont!

I return my thoughts to Kampala.

Eng John has booked us at Speke Hotel. The pictures show a cool place with a colonial outlook reflecting the historical name of one Mr Speke who ‘discovered’ Lake Victoria (as though the locals who have lived here for millennia are not human?!)

The Speke Hotel - Kampala. Note the lush green - this same lushness dominates most of Ug!

I am honestly looking forward to blessed days ahead.

I am happy and grateful. This is not just work but also a welcome break from Nairobi. 4 days away. from the madhouse, the cauldron!

The last time I flew into Ug was more than 12 years ago when I was inspecting works at the Lugogo Bypass Mosque. Ug hasn't changed much apart from better roads.

I’m told Kampala has grown. And the legendary traffic jams have become more legendary…

We’ll find out!

Immigration and arrival processes are fast and without hitch.

We board 2 cars. We are 10 in number.

A smooth eventless drive through a crowded suburban setting along the Entebbe-Kampala road.

The legendary jams are absent. Maybe because it’s Sunday; thankfully.

It’s tiring to travel without breathing space, as it so often happens when one travels in a group.

So arrival at Speke Hotel is a welcome breather. But shock unto me and others; the Hotel is a far cry from its lofty name. Worse still were the attitudes of the staff - both the locals and the Indian expatriate staff who hold all the senior positions!

The Main Entrance Lounge at Speke Hotel

Room 104. A nice attempt to give the decor a colonial ambiance.

A quick bathroom break and we hit the conference running.

Room 104

Yes, we have to attend a pre-conference meeting at Sheraton Hotel. So we walk there.

It’s a long day. I still have my chicken sandwich waiting for me in my room. I plan to down it with black tea; when I get back to Speke Hotel.

At Sheraton Hotel, the early birds from Arusha are waiting for us. And they baptise us into action without much protocol of greetings or other niceties. We dive straight in into the matter at hand: agreeing on the programme and agenda for the following days. It’s a long affair of agreeing on the programs for Monday and Tuesday. It’s a tooth comb affair.

Never done this before. So, happy to have learnt something new today!

Back to Speke Hotel at around 830pm.

After a long fuss they refuse to take my cash USD because apparently the notes are torn. Yes maybe partly but I think they were just fussy. I pay using new notes and head to my room to rest. I make a mental note not to patronize them for my next visit or ever! Tom on the other hand walks away in protest and takes a room in another part of Kampala!

The next 2 days are promising to be long.

I pray and hit the sack

20 October 2025. 330am

I awaken to the distant cry of a bird. A strange cry. Haven’t heard this before.

Bathroom and back to bed. Breathing exercises are not helping me sleep.

430am.

I give up trying to sleep. Ablutions. Recite Quran. Prayers.

Time to exercise. I put on my gear (I deliberately carried my jogging shoes and gear - for this purpose). And I head into the receding darkness.

The night watchman at the Speke Hotel entrance is asleep, almost falling off his chair.

The Chirping of birds has now increased - both in frequency and volume: as if the birds were at first not sure of the impending new day. The distinct caw of the White Thighed Hornbills rents the air drowning the sounds of the smaller weavers.

The air is crisp. There is a slight chill in the air but not too cold as to warrant an extra layer of clothing for me - an indigene from hot Mombasa.

An occasional bodaboda zooms past ferrying a large female passenger whose luggage is twice her size.

It’s Monday. A working day. School going children are already headed in different directions. The working class is already up and about. The grind has started. I am but an insignificant geriatric jogging away on the recently swept Kampala pavements.

After an hour long walk-cum-jog on deserted pavements I return to Speke Hotel.

A hot shower and then I head to breakfast.

Breakfast is a hearty affair of eggs, sausages, aloo chapatis, some veggies downed with masala tea. My last meal was breakfast yesterday at 10am so these carbs and calories are a welcome boost to my dwindled energy levels.

Breakfast is justifiably demolished! Now to head to Sheraton Hotel - which is just across the road ..

The Sheraton Hotel

The conference is simply that! A conference.

Lots of talking. I try to sieve the flood of information from what is useful away from what is trash.... I am a rather devout Taoist when it comes to information overflow -- I am choosy as to let in what is useful and what I must keep out!

It’s tiring to listen and to listen to understand. It requires attention and effort, and this requires awareness and being present.

Being present in the now; mindfully!

Lunch is announced after political speeches. It’s the usual variety of local dishes and western typical hotel food. I partake in this meal. This is in excess of my daily intake…. I make a mental note that I need to burn the extra calories.

The Conference Hall at Sheraton

Lunch is demolished amid talk of how racism affects all of us in our travels out of our continent. We’ve all experienced this all over the world. Herb accurately asserts that the source of racism is lack of awareness and lack of education.

I head for a walk.

No need to go far. Sheraton Gardens are part of the hotel campus. A paved garden walkway. I stroll amidst well kept lawns, mature indigenous trees amidst well groomed exotic trees and shrubs. Beautiful Flamboyant trees dominate the garden, they are by far the largest trees in the garden. Unfortunately, it’s not flowering season.

The Sheraton Hotel Gardens - the lush green is sumptuous!

The afternoon session of the conference is short, thankfully!

Meshak, Pooja, Tom and I decide to take an evening walk after dumping our bags in our rooms.

It is drizzling, but not heavily enough to dissuade us from our evening adventure.

Kampala is busy in the evening. Boda Bodas are soliciting fares going home! Matatus with distinct blue strip markings are touting for passengers; not very different from the situation in Kenya. Women selling bananas and unshelled boiled peanuts have spread theirs wares onto the pavements hoping to make a little money for themselves and their families.

As we walk observing life unfolding before our eyes; I cannot help but think how so similar the peoples of our two nations are: we are the same!

Similar struggles bedevil our peoples, and we stoically face them with full faith and trust in God!

Presently, we walk past a curios market with large paintings and tourists tinklets literally pouring out of their small stalls. There is an aura of a Masai Market. A scent of kangas, carvings and leather products wafts in the air. The stall owners tout us, urge us and beg us to even just look.

Pooja looks like and behaves like a potential customer. So, attention from the stall owners is deflected to her. Being an Indian, she plays her role well: she simply ignores the implorations and walks past without batting an eyelid.

After a while, we head back to Speke Hotel. It’s been a long-relaxed stroll. 75 minutes and Over 7000 steps later, everyone is tired despite it being a slow stroll.

The Grand Staircase that adorns the Main Lounge at Speke Hotel

The evening birds are singing their lullabies. The hoots of matatus and motorbikes spoils the natural sounds of cicadas and hadada ibises.

The overhanging leaves of palm trees hide away colonies of bats who have started their screeching sounds announcing the impending evening.

The air is thick with carbon monoxide spewed out by the multitude of bodabodas, matatus, and miscellaneous vehicles.

The planters have been dugout in preparation to receive plants to beautify the city. A mixture of cow dung, pigshit and donkey dung has been dumped and spread onto the freshly dug soil. The smell is overpowering….. ‘sometimes we have to spread some shit to gain something beautiful; literally!’

So, I quickly escape from this aromatic beautification situation….. to protect my olfactory senses from the dung shock therapy.

The evening is spent on the street front terrace. Drinks are ordered. A beer for Eng J, whiskies for Eng M and TO. Pooja and I accompany the alcohol indulgers with sips of water.

View from Street Terrace

Soon, dinner is sought. I try opting out but my colleagues prevail and I join in. Khichri and chicken is shared amongst 3 of us.

Then I retire. Prayers again and then I hit the sack.

21Oct2025

The following morning I awaken at 5am. Prayers and recitation of Quran give me the vital spiritual boost I have always relied on to start my day - this habit has become a ritual for decades now. So, I never miss this obligatory ritual.

Running shoes on. Shorts and my yellow t-shirt. I head for a jog. The sweeping ladies are already well advanced in sweeping off fallen leaves from the pavements.

School children in varied coloured school uniforms walk with purpose. Hand in hand with elder siblings. They walk without hesitation and in silence.

I notice there are more women than men heading to work. Somehow, they seem to bear a bigger burden …. Surely! My fellow men … let us pull our weight. When we look at highly developed countries; men and women bear similar burdens, they pull together and work as a team …. Do we do this here in Africa?? Difficult question but important one all the same!

I jog uphill past Sheraton and Serena Hotels. Homeless persons are huddled into their plastic bags which double up as blanket cum mattress. They lay supine on grass beds. Maybe waiting for sunrise to reveal their predicament before they start their days of hope (or lack of it).

At the corner of Statistic House; a group of drunken men and women are drinking what seems like cheap alcohol and dancing away suggestively despite the sunrise now almost fully up. I feel sorry for them and hope and pray that they see the light and derive happiness and joy from salvation. A tall order in Africa - which is still subjugated to its white masters!

I jog on for a good one hour.

Back at Speke Hotel. Shower and prep for breakfast.

The Breakfast Terrace

Breakfast is a simple affair of boiled egg, rice cake, fruits, fried plantains and grilled veggies. All this escorted down with masala tea. Despite the poor attitudes of the staff - I must admit that the food is better than most Hotel food - including Sheraton's.

Last day of the conference. So, we are back to Sheraton.

The Street Entrance into Sheraton

Long speeches and sessions. Political.

An extended season that ends at almost 2pm.

Lunch is sumptuous as usual. Bland hotel meals. I tuck in matoke, dry fried Nile Perch, some veggies and top it up with some forbidden cakes and multicolored pastry. Carbs, oh my God!

After lunch I head back to Speke. Rest and then head out for a town walk.

Kampala is one mighty congestion. It’s so difficult to even cross roads … that’s how heavy the traffic is.

We zigzag between people, matatus and bodabodas. It’s a tricky act full of misses and near misses! But the locals see this as normal. Organized chaos!

After 40 minutes of zigzag between the various forms of transport: we finally get back to Speke.

Time to rest, rehydrate and wait for the evening dinner.

It’s been an eye-opening 3 days.

I am eager to go back home, insha Allah

But first, dinner awaits us.

The Mediterraneo is our destination….

Fancy name. A hyped restaurant frequented more by twilight girls and their clients rather than mundane diners like us. It’s a rather squeezed setup with tacky timber ambiance which was probably meant to look rustic but failing rather miserably.

The food; this was ok.

Nothing really special except the price....which is astronomical! But I am not the Pay-Master - so no worries!

The Last Supper - at Mediterrraneo!

The service: ok-ish again. Slow and deliberately aimed at selling more drink than food. And yes, you guessed it; the drinks are grossly overpriced-maybe because the drinks have also been given fancy names. Marketing gimmicks !

We tuck in once the food is brought in. Mine is a steak with salads. The steak was Supposed to be medium but I excuse them - they do not know what medium steak is. To add injury to the affair: the steak is hard. Even the sharp steak knives have to be used as a metal saw to cut the bits to eat.

The salad is better. It’s all raw and natural …. I hope the chef is listening or reading this. His best efforts were not good enough. And certainly not for the astronomical price tag.

2130hrs

Dinner is followed by polite speeches by team leaders. Thanksgiving done, we board our Toyota Alphard Van. Heading back to Speke Hotel.

Kampala - by night!

Speke Hotel: Highly rated and even more highly priced hotel - but low class with a contemptuous Indian management whose attitudes bordered on visible racism. This has rubbed off the local staff who carry similar airs of superiority.

Maybe we should all be regularly reminding ourselves of our insignificance, our mortality, our impermanence and eventual demise to go for judgement. This may just humble us, so let us regularly bow down in submission to the Almighty at all times.

Once in my bedroom I try once again to check in. There is a problem with my reference number. I try calling KQ. No answer, just the usual pre-taped reply.

A brain stroke: I call Almina (my daughter) and she assists and sort it out in record time of less than 10 minutes. So now I can sleep easier.

Alarm set for 5am

But I lose my sleep at 3am and toss till around 4am and then an uneasy sleep. At 5am I am up before the alarm goes off.

Shower.

Prayers

A little recitation.

Final packing and I head down to check out before the agreed time of 0600 hrs.

Time to leave UG. The Alphard has arrived and we load and are soon on the move. The timing is just right; traffic has not yet built up.

There is a drizzle outside which soon becomes a drenching downpour as we enter Entebbe International Hotel.

Security checks are smooth though a little longish queues.

My flight had been thankfully sorted out by Almina so no anxiety or stress for me.

Smooth flight to Nairobi and safely home. I thank God for the journey mercies, the immense blessings, the good health and innumerable other favours - Alhamdulillah