Jinja, Uganda - Homecoming

Posted by Anisha Parmar on

Return to Jinja.

Jinja. Uganda. A place where my mother recalled memories of an innocent childhood full happiness: ‘the simple life with out mobiles & internet’

Jinja. Uganda. The place that makes my mother’s face lights up with pride of her birth place and a place she misses dearly.

Jinja. Uganda. a reference point when meeting others, where we could be in any country in the world and my mother would happen to bump into another Jinja born Indian Ugandan with common stories and instantly a conversation with a stranger is filled with smiles and laughter.

Jinja. Uganda. A place from where my family was forced to flee due to the political unrest.

Jinja. Uganda. A place I got to visit for the first time in May this year with my mother who was returning after 48 years.

At the end of a 2 week incredible work trip with my day job as a PR manager for a travel marketing agency-where we represent Uganda in the UK, I was joined by my mother in Jinja. 

I was excited to my see her as she has dreamt about returning to her birth place ever since she left in 1971. On seeing her I run up to her to give her the biggest hug and her eyes well up with tears of relief and happiness, that we are finally together in Jinja something we have spoken about for years. She squeezes my hand tightly and I say goodbye to the rest of the team and we look at each other like excited little school girls that cannot wait to share stories of the last two weeks and plan out everything that we have to see in Jinja. Her Jinja.

Mum was born in Jinja, on 7th February 1955, she spent the first 15 and a half years of her life there and in that time she recalls endless happy memories with her parents, one sister & two brothers which we were now about to revisit. We were staying near Jinja town hall so it was just a short stroll to the centre. She whips her phone out and starts videoing every moment as if she doesn’t want to miss a thing and records a voice over of every road we walk past. I ask her if she knows the way as I have secretly downloaded google maps just in case and she simply replies, ‘This is my home I know the way, trust me!’

 

Jinja-anisha parmar

So I follow, and we come across a shop where she remembers going for sewing classes as a young girl, ‘This is where I learnt my fashion – Anisha.’ As we walk further up the street she is naming all the streets and I am double checking on my map and she remembers it all perfectly, so I finally delete the map and trust her directions. Our next stop is the temple where she spent a lot of her time growing up and it is just as she remembered. The temple was the main place for social interactions and the highlight of the week for her and her mother. We pay our respects and walk around whilst she recalls the spaces where she played with her friends and it is as if she is the young girl again, so full of happiness.

We then take a walk up the street, to find the home where she was born. On approaching the corner where they lived, we noticed the area has been flattened. I could see the disappointment on her face and I tried to lift her spirit again with prompting questions to imagine what it used to look like. The realisation of the one room, shack style home that they used to live in was humbling. My granddad had a small tailoring store in the centre of Jinja (this building was also now unfortunately gone too), my grandmother was a housewife and my eldest uncle worked at the local cinema. Mum recalled seeing her oldest brother having a break from work in the projection room where during his break he used to smoke outside the top window that looked over the house. With some prompting we convinced a local to take us inside the derelict cinema which was now tarnished in everyway possible however you could just imagine the retro charm it must have had. My mum’s side of the family are big Bollywood fans and I can envision a family day out to the movies in their best clothes, tailored by my grandfather of course. We then walked up to mum’s old primary school; a collective of buildings that have stood still in time. We were welcomed by the staff and students, free to go into class rooms and interact with students. The way all the places we were visiting seamlessly flowed into once other was beautiful, each place had a deep rooted link that shone light on how the ‘simple’ life they had in Jinja was one of sincerity and love.

As we walked further into the centre stopping for an Indian lunch at Aaswad Forever which was delicious, ran by recent migrants from India. It was interesting to learn that most of the Indians that were now settled in Jinja were recent migrants rather than from my mother’s era and how welcome and safe they felt. It was almost as if Uganda has gone full circle since the Amin days.

 Jinja-anishaparmar

Mum then leads us to the dry cleaners where she worked when she was 15 years old, now a grocery shop also ran by a recent Indian migrant. It was here where she told me a shocking story I had never heard before. She was working, the day Idi Amin had over thrown former and then later president Milton Obote in 1971. She recalled the army marching through ‘Main Street’ and coming into the store where she was behind the counter, they then proceeded to point guns at her. She didn’t realise that they didn’t want her, they actually wanted the photo of the the former President’s photo removed hanging on the wall behind her. Two solders then barged to the back of the store to tear the frame off the wall, hurled it on the street and began trampling all over it. At the time, their new home which was a one room flat, was located just opposite the store and my grandmother watched from the balcony as her 15-year-old, youngest daughter was completely frightened. At the time, my mother’s siblings had already moved to the UK and this story was the turning point where they realised they had to leave Uganda, their home.

I was amazed to hear new stories that Jinja conjured up in mum’s memories, from the various places they lived, going to her school, to the last place she lived & worked before they left everything behind. My grandparent’s had already left their home of India to seek better opportunities in Jinja, and they then had to up root the life they had strived for once again to move the UK.  I feel proud knowing how my family has continually adapted and thrived through as well as how business savvy they have been even through their migrant journey to new country.

jinja-anishaparmar

 

← Older Post Newer Post →



Leave a comment

Please note, comments must be approved before they are published