Take me back to Uganda, the land of my people. The place where most of my kin live. Where I can decide I need a hug from my grandmother during a tough day at work and get it by the end of the day. The city, Kampala, is small enough for me to navigate after work and still be home in time for dinner and a good night’s sleep.
Take me back to the place where I don’t need an AC on the hottest days nor a heater on the coldest ones because it’s right at the Equator. And we all know tropical weather is the best. The place where I smell the soil when it rains, and the clean air after the skies clear. Where I can climb a tree to pick my fresh fruit instead of walking into Sainsbury’s to buy one that lacks the sweetness of a fruit that’s lived it’s full life out on the tree.
Take me back to the place where I see and talk to my parents everyday if I want to. I can still talk to them now, but I miss their facial expressions. Their faces say much more than the words. I want to dance to kadongo kamu and Zouk with them and talk about more than just how I’m getting on. I want to attend my cousins’ weddings with them (can’t lie, I miss being my mother’s handbag) and share opinions after. I miss hearing my dad say, “mbalesse!” To my mum and I as we get ready to leave the house.
Take me to back to my brothers. They may be a source of my stress sometimes but we do have some good times when they aren’t ganging up against me. Calling me names and shit. I learnt to hold my own too though. Always a good laugh
Take me to my friends! Lizzie, Mandy, Phoebe, and Irene. The mad girls that brighten up my WhatsApp now. I need the tea and chapati/samosa moments. I have them after church now but without my girls it isn’t the same. Plus it’s church, I really cannot say have the same conversations I have with them.
Come on, just take me! At least before winter or my next birthday.