God Bless Uganda

I woke up on Monday feeling refreshed and well-rested.  While sipping on my coffee some minutes later, I watched the sun rise as a blanket of mist slowly lifted and exotic birds sang their usual cheerful song of welcome to the light.  The smell of Uganda in the morning is something indescribable, save to say that it taps more than your senses, but your soul as well.

Mornings have become a source of immense comfort for me, but not yesterday morning...

I'm more than a bit in shock at the events that unfolded in Kampala just a few days ago.  I was in Kampala on a weekend reprieve, as was my NGO sponsor (Robert), who freelances as a journalist here in Uganda.  It turns out that he had gone to the Rugby club that evening to cover a story on the big turn-outs for the World Cup matches.  Robert had invited me to accompany him that weekend, but I opted to stay in my hotel and watch the game from there, hoping to get some rest and relaxation whilst at it.

I wasn't even aware that Robert had been at the actual bomb site until Monday afternoon when I received a text informing me that he was there, but had left only minutes before the blast---which took the life of one of his school mates.  My spine shivered when I heard this, and when I got back to my hotel last night, I was so overcome that I cried thinking about how truly small the connections of our lives are, and how the families of these people must feel.  How their mornings will have changed... 

As anyone who has been in Uganda will agree, the newspapers here are less than tame.  The front page paper on Monday morning was slathered with a collage of pictures of dead people slouched in their chairs, covered in blood, some still holding their beer, or with hands in their pockets.  It was chilling to see pictures of what a bomb does to the human body.  Even those not in immediate range were not spared; the shockwaves from the bomb are what appeared to kill many of these people, all but instantly.

It has really dampened my experience here, if not haunted it entirely.  Although, Ugandans are resilient beyond measure, and I could stand to learn much from them.  When I asked a security guard at my hotel what he thought about what Uganda should do about this, his eyes didn't move from the front page of the newspaper he was holding, but his voice said it all....

"One love will stop the many tears that we have shed."

It doesn't get any more amazing than that....

God Bless Uganda!

Rubang kene (God Alone)  

**that's the Acholi name that was given to me by my African family.