Omwaana kyatamanyi tekimukabya – A child cannot cry for what (s)he does not know.
If I didn’t know of the existence of chocolate I would not hanker after it. If I didn’t know of hot baths I would gladly submit to ice-cold showers on rainy days and if I had never heard of Paris I would not be so set on going there someday. You get the picture, and what that Luganda proverb is all about. That proverb (and it’s equivalents in all other languages of the world) may not be completely true. We’ve all felt that feeling of longing for something more, even when you can’t put a finger to exactly what it is that’s lacking, what it is that will make you feel whole. And then when, eventually, you happen upon it you know that THAT is exactly what you needed to make you, or a moment, complete.
We are supposed to feel lucky that our homes, offices, etc. are electrified. Electricity makes lives easy, interesting, liveable. It runs everything, it runs my life. Just half an hour with the power cut is enough to drive me nuts. That so many people in parts of this country only see a lit bulb when they visit family in urban areas is no consolation to me. I’m in the city, it’s the 21st century, I pay taxes, why, oh why have I no power in my home 24/7? I’m a child that has seen and knows electricity and I’m howling and wailing – not just crying – for this electricity. I want my electricity on all the time. I want the switches in my home to glow red every time I flick them on. God forbid that my laptop battery should run out when the power ids off!
In this city you schedule events and dates according to Umeme’s¹ load-shedding² time table. When a friend calls and wants to meet up, mentally you go, “Wait, let me see… we had power Sunday night and Monday during the day, so there’ll be a power cut Monday night and Tuesday daytime…. ” then out loud: “Okay, I can do Monday night or Tuesday daytime… Wednesday night is also good.” The key thing is to make sure you’re not at home when the big cut comes, when all goes totally dark every where and you have 3 choices: 1) Light candles and play about with your phone till you either fall asleep or power returns, 2) Go online/ watch a movie and use up whatever is left of your laptop’s battery then resort to no. 1 above, 3) Just call it an early night and crawl into bed. The best plan of all is to have ‘plot’ when the power gets cut – have somewhere to go, someone to meet, something to do outside the house.
I used to schedule my dates with the mister (let’s call him G) to sync with these power cuts, some times. Guy and Mary, friends of mine, have admitted they never leave home when the power is on. That’s time for watching all your tv series on DVD in marathon style, sunrise to sunset. Everything that needs to be done away from home is grouped and scheduled for a power-off day. Nothing is worse than a Sunday afternoon power cut. Sunday is stay home and watch a movie /feel lazy day. It gets unbearable without power, and it happens more often than you can imagine.
Some nights G would come over to my place and a while later, zap! It would suddenly go dark. I always hated it when that happened. Eating under candle light is not as romantic as it’s cut out to be. At least not in this part of Africa. Also, I like looking people in the eye when I talk to them, and watching their faces. When I talked to G, I liked watching his face. And not just that, I’m a body language freak. A twitch of the eye lid, a blink, a certain look in the eye, hesitation, … I’m always watching for what people are actually saying that they don’t put into words. Sometimes the most important things are those that go unspoken. So you can imagine, talking to anyone – and least of all a boyfriend – in the dark is one of my least favourite things. There are these phones with a torch application, that are popular here for that very reason, the torch. My grandmother jokingly boasts about how hers lights better than mine. It actually does, I had to admit, grudgingly.
Well, this little phone comes in handy in a power cut. And talking to G, I would find myself shining it in his face as he we talked. Not always intentionally, I just found myself doing it, ’cause well, you want to look at someone when you’re talking to them, right? He hated it. And that’s an understatement. He would scowl, and frown, go ‘Why do you have to do that?’ and I’d say sorry but find myself doing it again. A flashlight direct in one’s face is obviously uncomfortable, I know that too. Pillow talk in the time of power cuts would then get a wee bit… weird. Talk, flashlight in the face, scowl, growl, apology, darkness, talk, flashlight, scowl, growl, sigh… goodnight, let’s talk tomorrow. Honestly, though, pillow talk with G wasn’t always like that. Pillow talk with G was kinda like G… sweet, gentle and loving.
Talking in the dark is not actually that difficult, especially if you’re not at table but in bed, talking about not-so serious matters, being held and cuddling and generally talking as lovers do. Lovers talk in the dark all the time. It’s been said, “…in th intimacy of the darkness…” The darkness can be real intimate, we all know how, I only wish it wasn’t forced on me as often as it is. Some claim these power cuts are going to bring on a massive population expansion, what with people getting to go to bed earlier more often. More than half Uganda’s population are youth. If power cuts = more copulation = increase in population, then things aren’t looking so good for motherland beloved.
¹ The body in charge of electricity distribution.
² The term used to refer to sharing/distributing electricity across the country. The watts generated are way fewer than what the nation needs, so at any given time some areas are taken off the grid and have no power supply while others are supplied. Distribution is rotated, places take turns at being on or off the supply grid.
Beautiful is the Luganda language as so is the proverb. What struck me while reading your wonderfully enlightening (no pun intended) post is that I have never been anywhere where it’s so dark that talking to someone would require a light. A light for body speak, I get it.
Being a very sheltered traveler, not by choice really, I am quite enamored by your stories from afar. I feel like I am there with you & your grandmother discussing whose light was brighter, the lights from phones. How aweseome technology. Yet the image of the nighttime becoming absolute black is engaging to me.
One day. One day Africa.
Thank you, Baroness. I’m glad you find my tales from afar engaging.
Great thing, this technology. Right now I’m using a USB lantern for lighting, in addition to a candle as back-up lighting, while silently praying my laptop battery doesn’t run out before the power gets back, ’cause then there’ll be no USB lantern! Some people purchase inverters, neighbours of mine have a generator that’s roaring as I type. Everyone makes do, and it’s not quite as bad as it sounds
Scratch that! Power cuts suck and it’s depressing 
Do come to Africa one day. Uganda happens to have been rated a leading tourist destination in Africa. Karibu, and don’t forget to carry a hakuna matata attitude with you!
Your determination to finish what you can before your only source of power to see your computer runs down is a testament to the tenacious lady you are. And I just love that!
Have you always lived in Africa? Your master of the English language and even slang words is impeccable. I love reading your blog. You take your reader to such different places, even places of thoughts. An interesting read for sure.
I also simply adore the kind of attitude I need to carry WHEN I visit Africa. It’s fun to say too. Thank you kind friend for such a welcome invite to your country and for the always delightful replies back. You are thoughtful and kind. My kind of people.
Aaaw, thank you and thank you! Tenacious, that I am. A quality that sometimes rubs some people the wrong way, and for the life of me I really don’t understand why. Lol.
I’m Ugandan, born and bred, and yes I’ve always lived in Africa. Except for a 4 month work stint in India last year, that is. I yearn to travel far and wide, but I think I may have to moderate that as I have barely seen all Uganda has to offer, I’m embarrassed to say. The Indians impressed me with how well they love touring their country. Those from the North take out trips to visit the South, East and West, and those from those other parts tour other parts too. They’ve got real love for country, in as far as discovering it is concerned. When it comes to other things (social welfare, health, politics), they are as terrible as we Africans unfortunately. Except I remember remarking that their public health awareness was unusually low! I was comparing it to Uganda’s, and thinking how I could not see any public health messages broadcast there as they are here. Things such as reproductive and sexual health, hand-washing before meals and after toilet (prevent cholera, & other diarrhoeal diseases) were very low on the public radar there, yet they are faced with the same health problems as most parts of Africa.
About my usage of the English language… I think I have my mum and dad to thank and the schools I was taken to. Mum’s dad was very well-educated, he speaks English like an English professor. Because mum spoke to us in English – plus our native tongue of course – at an early age (as do most parents these days, to the chagrin of culturalists and all those worried about over-westernisation and the loss of our African Traditional culture, language, etc. – they are worried with good reason too, I must emphasise) we were speaking English even before we started kindergarten. Sadly, today you’ll find way too many people of my generation speaking better English than they do their mother tongues. I remember one guy at Uni telling me I had been nick-named professor ’cause it was that most likely knew what a certain English word meant if no one else knew, and that I was always correcting people’s English. I have to admit I was a bit full of myself at the time, lol. He was right, I did do those things but it wasn’t only I and I’m certain I wasn’t the best. I was just the most outspoken one, the one not afraid to be wrong about what that foreign word meant. In school, we were instructed in English, and punished (ridiculous punishments, story for another day) for speaking vernacular (mother tongues), reason being if you didn’t learn English you couldn’t pass the school exams, national (board) exams either, jobs would get difficult to get, etc. And of course being students, sometimes you just want to rebel and do as your told to not do, so vernacular reigned when the opportunity presented itself. Some people speak better English than others, of course, depending on the quality of schools attended (especially in the early years), their love for reading, and their mother-tongue interference, as we call it. Each part of the country has a different diction when it come to this language, English, and we tease each other much about it, one cultural group (tribe) mocking the other’s way of speaking the language. It’s a bit funny, sometimes.
Well, this got pretty long! I should put it in a post, I guess. It’s good of you to reply, and I promise to write a lot more about this part of the world, if only for your entertainment.
How extraordinary that English is taught and yet replacing mother tongues. I get why but it does make me feel sad somehow.
I’d love it f you wrote chapters about the cultures of your country and share more about what is just out side your windows. You write like a travel writer and cause the travel bug to start tickling me.
I have been interested in world cultures since my early school days and can recall bothering a teacher because I wanted more details Like foods traditionally eaten, clothing, home life, lifestyles, you know hat I mean?
I hope you don’t mind my curiosity and I promise I never mind long posts, comments or talks.You bring it on that you are willing to share.
I’m happy to share, yes. I’ve wanted to write more about life here for a very long time now, and at some point wondered if I should create a new blog altogether but decided that this would do just fine. Right after commenting on your X-mas wish list post I started to write a post titled Christmas and New Years – the Ugandan Experience, but I was going through quite a bit of stuff at the time and never got round to publishing it her. I guess it’s never too late to put it up so I’ll probably publish it some time. I’m working on a post now, about various attractions here. Should be up shortly…
Happy words to my eyes. Take your time, be kind to yourself, but I would not be being truthful if I said I can wait. I can wait but the anticipation is hard. I’m looking forward to you sharing My LadyBird. For me this is what blogging is all about. Thank you!
Reading a bit of older posts! This one caught my attention
I actually assumed that you lived in England! Just based on how you write. Fabulous. I don’t know if these are things you have in Uganda, but we have a solar phone charger (brand is Solio, I believe) and several wind-up flashlights. One has a radio in it, too. I really like having things like this, because even though I’m in Ireland, the power and water can go off for long lengths of time! Very annoying 
Oh, I know a lot about those power off days!
They can be quite a plague over here 
We do have those solar chargers. Some people have invested in solar units that can power the lighting and sometimes cooking in their homes. What’s puzzling is how high the cost for the bigger units is, yet the solar energy project is mostly targeted at rural areas where electrification may be scarce.
About assuming I live in England, Uganda was a British colony, so perhaps there’s a bit of influence there
I was there a couple of times this year, though (in England), and I absolutely loved it…except the rain of course, of which we already have more than enough here 
Ah, something else Ireland and Uganda has in common, former British rule! I am entirely sick of the rain and lack of sun here, for sure. And, my water is off again tonight. Only good thing about that is I don’t have to do the dishes!
Do pay Uganda a visit, then
We get lots of rain, but we get even more sun. 
It’s puzzling sometimes, but we get used to it.