Hedvig Sävenryd //
Uganda, the pearl of Africa, has been my residence for the past few months, and I’ve had the absolute honour of getting to know beautiful people, beautiful culture and beautiful nature. I’ve also experienced some of the political, social and economic consequences of colonialism.
“Mzungu, Mzungu”, people shout after me while I’m riding a bodaboda, the motorcycle taxi constituting the main sort of transport, stuck in one of the many traffic jams Kampala is famous for. My new name, which translates from Bantu languages as “wanderer,” dates back to when the first British explorers/anthropologists/colonisers came to East Africa. In Uganda, the term is used to describe everyone who’s not black. Not that Mzungus are that uncommon here, and that the Ugandan context isn’t tolerant, as one of the biggest recipients of refugees in East Africa today, Uganda is rich in culture, religion, and skin colours. I turn and wave to the person who shouted “Mzungu.” They say, “How are you?”, I say, “I’m fine! How are you?”. After a while, traffic starts moving again, and the bodaboda drives away. Coming from the Swedish context, where our politicians constantly compete in saying the most racist, xenophobic comments, I was honestly shocked to be in a cultural setting where differences are both highlighted and appreciated.
“Do you want all foods and all sauces?” asks the waiter. Uganda’s multi-cultural society can be recognised through the food eaten here. Indian cuisine is a big part of the culture, as Indian labourers came to Uganda in 1895 to construct the Uganda Railway (a crown jewel of the Imperial British East Africa Company). Most left after the railway was done, but around 6 000 of the 30 000 workers stayed. Their presence has left the influential mark of Chapati, like a thick, salty, greasy pancake. This can also be eaten as a ”Rolex”, Chapati rolled up with eggs. After gaining independence in 1962, 25 years of civil war and battles of power followed, during which posho (according to my friend, it stems from the English word portion, a maize-based” polenta”), with beans, became the food for all days and all people. This is still the everyday food in the public school system. In 1972, under Idi Amin’s leadership, all South Asians (80 000 at the time) were expelled from Uganda, and all their property was confiscated, as the Indian population had grown to be somewhat of the overseers of the British protectorate. This was part of an “anti-colonial” political movement. After Idi Amin’s downfall, anti-Indian policies were removed, and many returned to Uganda.
“Leave my investors alone”, said Uganda’s President Museveni, ruling since 1986. With three harvests per year and 72% of Uganda’s workforce in agriculture, food is a big part of the political discussion here. Many investments in the glorious name of development are made to enhance effectiveness and make the business greener and more sustainable. These Janus-faced investments shift forms and figures and carry many different names. While heavily sought-after and incentivised by the government, some civil society actors argue that the investments are dragging down labour conditions and making Uganda a tool in a geopolitical, self-interest-based, silent war of commerce. These foreign investments do, however, create job opportunities, build necessary infrastructure, and enhance technology. With 90% of the Ugandan workforce in informal work, job opportunities will be a heavy selling point. During my time here, I recognise that the union work I do in Sweden and that conducted in Uganda are very similar, albeit with some differences in challenges.
“My friend asked me if you are into girls”, Bella says while we are painting faces and putting on well-thought-out outfits. Before travelling to Uganda, I reflected on my position as a queer person coming to a country where homosexual acts are criminalised. The Ugandan Parliament passed the Anti-Homosexuality Act 2023, criminalising consensual same-sex conduct with penalties of up to life imprisonment, attempted homosexual acts with penalties of 10 years in prison, and the death penalty for those convicted of “aggravated homosexuality”. The historical context of anti-homosexual acts in Uganda is that these are exported values from British colonisers, and a key factor in the increasing and widespread persecution of non-heterosexual people throughout Africa has been the financial underwriting provided by U.S. organisations. It is estimated that more than 20 U.S. Christian Nationalist groups are actively subsidising campaigns against LGBTQ+ folk/individuals/people. Whatever the roots and causes, Uganda today is not a safe place for queer people. At the same time, as no one has been charged according to the act (as this charge needs to be signed by the attorney general, etc., there are administrative and bureaucratic hurdles), LGBTQ+ people are harassed by homophobic groups and individuals. In this context, I want to shed light on the queer culture that still exists. Through the Kampala club life, cultural life, art scenes, poetry nights and much more, I’ve realised that having a mullet is considered gay here as well and that no matter how hard queer people are being stomped down, we still exist, and we are still beautiful.