By the time you read this column, I should be hundreds or even thousands of kilometres away from the motherland, or is it fatherland? For most of us, who believe unquestionably in our ‘chain keepers’ or plainly put, ‘members of the chain keepers’ (MoCK), it is pertinent to always recognise them or you could earn a more than thorough ‘chaining’. In this regard, I had to first seek a ‘visa’ from my MoCK; not that she is one of the immigration et emigration guru but because all my actions have to be sanctioned and commissioned by her. I suppose you know what I am talking about eh? That done, I set off to Nyabugogo bus terminal for the ticket. I would travel to Arusha via Kampala and onto Nairobi and, inshallah (God willing), the reverse would apply for my return trip. Once upon a time there was a bus called Regional Coaches, that buy was known fro plying the Kigali, Kampala, Nairobi to Dar-es-salaam route, unfortunately, it is long “deceased” (no more), the only sign of it’s exisitence is a lone bus that has been parked in the lorry park situated on the Gatuna Border crossing. Had it not been for the algae and moss that now populate its outer surface, one may be tempted to think that, it is poised and ready to set off on its long treks. From the start, this journey was gona be a mother of all journeys. In place of the Regional bus, I was reliably informed that, a new bus had been “born” and was effective “baptised” as Kampala Coaches. We set off early in the morning and sped through the territories of Northern Rwanda, leading us to the Gatuna border crossing. As usual, the place was a pain in the … what should I call it, uh , let say, wrong side of the human body! It seemed as if everybody had left Rwanda and was heading northwards, the queues were so long. After the border formalities, maybe an hour or two from arrival, we were once again speeding through what was popularly known as “the hills of Ruhanga” (God’s Hills), then to the savannah grasslands of Ankole, through the Kindgom of Buganda, past the land of Kyabazinga of Busoga across the River Nile, just a few kilometres away from the source of the Nile, the longest river in the world. By the way, some people were disputing the fact that the Nile is the longest river in the world; and maybe their claim holds water. That’s if they can also shift the source of the Nile from Jinja to the mountains of Western Rwanda where River Nyabarongo originates. Suppose we rename River Nyabarongo to say, River Petit Nile; wouldn’t this help? I’m in a great hurry to get to my destination and that is why I am simply rushing through all territories like bush fire. I cannot wait to be united with the Maasai people. They must be a great people to meet. My journey is however proving painfully slow. There was (of course) a mother of all traffic jams in Kampala; it took over three hours to drive from the western suburb of the city through the centre to the northern suburb. A distance of less than thirty kilometres. To be continued... Contact: Mfashumwana@fastmail.fm
