Journey To Liberated Uganda

The  fall of Kampala on  April 11, 1979, led to the ouster of dictator Idi Amin and his seeking refuge in Libya with his fanatic companion, Col. Gaddafi. Restoration of peaceful conditions in Uganda, made displaced people, like us, think of returning to Uganda. 

In the mid May, we started our journey for Kampala, along with two other vehicles - those of the Sehgal and Uppal families. Mrs. Murad, a Lecturer in the Zoology Department of Makerere University, along with her daughter and son accompanied us in our car. 

We thought of having a halt at Webuye with the Sachdev family, as it may be too tiring for the tiny baby - the two-week old Neelima. The Sehgal and Uppal families proceeded straight to Kampala. On our arrival at night in Webuye, we heard the sad news of Mr. Sachdev having lost his father in India. The family was in mourning. We were so sorry to learn that and offered  condolences. However we continued our journey next morning and reached the Uganda border. The stern soldiers guarding the border were greeted by Rajeev with jambo, habari , majuri and asanti sana. They were so amused having been greeted by a three year old child in Swahili, and waved us to proceed on without any check. That was the first welcome change for us.

We were still very cautious and careful , but the rest of the journey from Tororo to Kampala was uneventful and smooth. Travelling in your own car with the constant fear of your vehicle being snatched away at gun point had gone. Indeed a beautiful and  pleasant experience in those dreadful days soon after the  dethroning of murderous regime of Amin.

We entered Makerere University campus in the afternoon and soon met our neighbor Mr. Mugambe, a Lecture in Physics whom we had handed over the keys to our  flat before we left for Kenya.. He assured us that our flat was safe and most of the household effects had been shifted to his house for safe keeping to avoid looting by the unruly goons during the last days of Amin. It was a sheer delight to be back in our apartment with the goods intact courtesy Mr. Mugambe, and had a refreshing cup of tea  from them. We were very pleased with the noble gesture on the part of the Mugambe family having looked after the safety of our apartment in Quarry House. 

A few days later we  presented him with a wristwatch (procured from a duty free shop in Kampala), as a token of love for his kindness. He refused to accept it as he didn’t want the price for whatever he did for us. He relented on our explaining that we can not pay back for his generosity. It was just a small  token  of love on our part. He informed us that his wrist watch was taken away by soldiers sometime back. One can imagine our relief of finding our household intact as we had reposed faith in our Ugandan neighbours. On the contrary those of us who locked their houses and left, returned to find their houses  ransacked  and devastated. Such was the kindness of our Ugandan friends, like Mr. Mugambe, who would live forever in our hearts!

Years later in 2010, Neelima visited Kampala and happened to meet Mr. Mugambe - he was just same, he had hardly changed. We too look forward to meeting him and other friends, when we visit Kampala. God willing, that day should come soon!

After returning to Kampala, it was time for us to start our work in our respective places.  It was again a period of shortages in Uganda. We somehow managed to procure milk and foodstuff for kids  and ourselves.  During that trying period  we did our best to run the household and help our Ugandan friends as well wherever we could do. 

Neelima  and Rajeev were very  beautiful and sober kids and were growing up and learning things at a quick pace. As parents we did not face much difficulties in rearing them up. It was a beautiful  and rewarding  experience to cherish. In fact they were a great source of joy to us. 

We thank God Almighty for those little and unexpected joys!

Turmoil in Uganda, Ouster of Idi Amin & New Beginnings!

The beautiful country of Uganda was undergoing many upheavals under the murderous regime of Idi Amin and trouble was simmering underneath. Uganda was in a “State of Blood” – a term used by Henry Kyemba in his book on Uganda under Idi Amin, with the same title.

Outwardly, people were going about their businesses as usual and everything seemed to be normal. One could sense the deep-rooted disquiet and frustration amongst the populace going about mechanically with their duties in their places of work. Discussion on the prevailing situation at that time with anyone was fraught with the grave risk to their own lives as well as that of their kin. No one would venture to open their mouth to complain about all the problems one was confronted with in those hard times.

Breakdown in the civic amenities was very frequent. To get piped water on the first floor in our flat in Quarry House and elsewhere became a very constant problem. It was an exercise we had to undertake, almost every   morning, to fetch water from our neighbours on the ground floor for our daily needs. Our good and helpful Ugandan neighbours always offered their help in this daily ritual which went on for quite some time.

The Ugandans abroad, self-exiled, were organising themselves as one cohesive force. This was especially true on the southern front with the tacit support of Tanzania. They organised and collected their resources and formed a formidable group to stage a fight against the illicit regime of Idi Amin. Towards the end of 1978 and the advent of 1979, these rebels had gathered the determination, resources and the force to take on Amin. They mustered enough courage to move northwards and were bent upon liberating the country from the shackles of the dictatorial regime in Kampala. These forces galvanised under the command of well-organised leaders were firmly determined to uproot the callous and blood-thirsty forces of Amin. The stage was being set to overthrow the regime. The people of Uganda, fed up with the atrocities of Amin, were all for the rebels to remove the oppressor with force. The southern front became a hot-spot and these liberation soldiers entered from there and confronted the government forces loyal to Idi Amin. Casualties were bound to happen, but were limited as the government forces unwilling to fight, found themselves on the losing front - they were on the run and were retreating as the liberating forces advanced towards Masaka.

As the liberating forces advanced towards Masaka and later to Kampala, the government soldiers were retreating without putting up a fight. Unwilling to face them, these undisciplined soldiers started looting civilians, snatching their vehicles at gunpoint so that they could flee the battlefield and head home. The liberating forces were steadily and cautiously heading northwards. They were not hurrying so that there would be minimum casualties. They captured Masaka, and took time to reinforce and regroup themselves to march forward and for the final assault on Kampala, the seat of authority. In the process, Masaka suffered a lot. Most of the buildings in the town were destroyed including the hotel, Tropic Inn (which has been recently resurrected).

As the forces moved towards Kampala, we started hearing occasional gunshots on and off.  With these developments, tension started mounting amongst the civilians and the expatriates like us. Madanjeet Singh, our Indian High Commissioner in Kampala, became very active. He along with his staff took great personal risks in protecting Indian expatriates there. His First Secretary, Bhoj Raj, being on leave to India, Deepak Mishra, the Commercial Attache, gave a great helping hand in assisting him in his endeavours to evacuate Indians to safety. On March 29, 1979, the first convoy of Indians led by the Indian High Commissioner left Kampala. Some of us on the Makerere University campus decided to stay put in the safety of our homes there. Our reason for staying back in Kampala was simple: my wife, Meenakshi, was expecting our second child towards the end of April, and we were of the opinion that the long travel to Kenya under those circumstances won’t be without grave risks. We had somewhat decided in our minds to be ready for the emergency delivery at home, in case it was dangerous to  venture out,  even though Mulago Hospital was only 10 minutes drive from our residence.

As most of the Indians on the university campus and many others in the town had chosen to leave for a safe haven in peaceful Kenya, the few left behind on their own will, had very strange feelings of loneliness and were prone to the grave dangers looming large on the horizon. The next morning, High Commissioner Madanjeet Singh with his Indonesian wife, Kiki, and Mr. Mishra were there in Makerere to persuade the remaining Indians to leave. He talked to all of us and tried his best to convince us to leave for Kenya. He was very kind and offered to let Meenakshi travel in his official Mercedes, which would be much more comfortable than in our small Fiat 127. Meenakshi politely declined the generous offer for she wanted to travel with Rajeev and me in our own vehicle.

We had to pack all our valuables, emergency drugs, etc., to meet any eventuality on the way. The valuables included our passports, our degree certificates, clothes to be used for the coming baby, and just a few dollars equivalent of 80 Kenyan Shillings. As we left the campus for the High Commissioner’s residence in Kololo, we came across unruly and frustrated soldiers who were trying to grab vehicles at gunpoint in order to flee the scene of action. We had to accelerate in order to escape their attempts to loot. We got a sense of great relief after reaching the high commissioner’s residence. A Sri Lankan took a ride along with us.

As it happened, some Pakistanis, Bangladeshis and Sri Lankans also joined our convoy of  over  20 vehicles or so, led by the High Commissioner’s car with the Indian flag fluttering in front. The Pakistani and Bangladeshi missions did not care much for their citizens, while Sri Lanka which did not have a presence in Kampala had requested India to help. These nationals were allowed to join the convoys led by the Indian mission for evacuating the Indians to a safer destination. Hats off to our mission which undertook such a heroic task at grave personal risk and even extended the facility to others who wished to join. Imagine Pakistanis travelling under the Indian flag today? It would be sacrilege!

The convoy was stopped at various checkpoints manned by Amin’s soldiers who were told that the Indian mission in Kampala had organised the safe evacuation of its citizens to Kenya and hence the movement went unhindered to the border with Kenya. Indian High Commission officials based in Nairobi were there to take over the further march to Nairobi. We were given a warm welcome in the Kenyan territory and offered refreshments. Children like Rajeev were particularly jubilant to get Coke, a rare commodity in Kampala. There was a sigh of relief on safely crossing to the border.

I must mention that High Commissioner Madanjeet Singh recently wrote a book - Culture Of The Sepulchre, in which he elaborately documented some of the events of those times.

It was a sheer luck that one of my acquaintances, Mr. V.B. Sachdev, a chemical engineer working with the Pan African Paper Mills, a Birla Group concern in Webuye (formerly known as Broderick Falls), was there at the border looking for me. The convoy moved ahead to Webuye where a night halt was organised for all of us and food was served. A Hindi film, Charas, was shown to entertain us, so called ‘refugees’ from Uganda and divert our minds from the unpleasant events of Uganda.

The convoy was to leave the next day for Nairobi. Of course, we stayed back with the Sachdev family, who didn’t allow us to proceed further in that condition. It was here in Webuye that I removed the sutures on a lacerated wound that Rajeev had sustained over his chin about eight days earlier in Kampala when he dared to ride his tricycle on the stairs of Quarry House!

Again, it was here that we learnt of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto’s hanging in Pakistan. While we were there, we explored the possibility of the ensuing delivery in Kisumu Hospital, 60 kilometres away. It did not seem like a very safe proposition. After gratefully enjoying the hospitality of the Sachdev family for about two weeks, we decided to proceed to Nairobi for better medical facilities.

In Nairobi, we stayed with the Gill family, whose daughter, Pammi, was Meenakshi’s classmate in M.Sc. (Hons. School) at Panjab University, Chandigarh. Our first and foremost task was to register her with the nearby Aga Khan Hospital, which was close to their home at Parkland in Nairobi. Mrs. Gill, or Aunty as we called her, was away to London at that time because of a bereavement in the family there. Our stay there was quite peaceful.  Mrs. Sandhu, a neighbour and friend of the Gills, was a very helpful lady and took care of us in the absence of Aunty.

Our daughter, Neelima, was born on April 27, 1979, and there was a great relief and joy on the safe and normal delivery after so much of turmoil in our lives at that time. It is difficult to imagine how we surmounted all those problems coming one after the other, perhaps the Almighty God wanted it that way. That is why we could cross those hurdles easily with the grace of God.

And soon after that we were to return back to Kampala, as Uganda was in the throes of a new beginning after the regime change.

Tianjin - An Interesting Blend of Influences

Our journey to Tianjin earlier got postponed as we were not able to get the right reservation for the bullet train. This time we booked in time and boarded the 9 o’clock train from Beijing South Railway Station (Beijing Nan) to be there in time and have a good amount of time at our disposal to see various places of interest, and return home in the evening.

The railway platforms and booking counters in Beijing are well organised, spic and span and the young officials, mostly girls, are very efficient. The language barrier though does become a stumbling block in our interaction with them. Unlike India, one doesn’t have to struggle to board the train. The whole system of people getting off the train and others boarding is done quietly and efficiently so there is no panic on the platforms. 

The travel by a fast train, called bullet train was an experience worth enjoying. The train started exactly at 9 AM. Every 30 minutes there is a bullet train shuttling between Beijing  and Tianjin. It is very comfortable and the adjustable seats are just like those on planes. There are foot rests and folding tables, so you can comfortably work on your laptop, read or just relax during the journey. On both sides of the train above the seats there are shelves to neatly stow away bags. The washroom is spacious and surprisingly neat and clean. Everything in the washroom – from the door locking mechanism to the flush – is controlled by tiny buttons. 

In fact, the whole train is very tidy and very well maintained. The speed of the train and the temperature outside is constantly displayed on a screen in the compartment in both Mandarin and English. It is fascinating to see how the train gains speed within minutes. The temperature outside was varying between 14-16 degrees centigrade.

The train gradually gained speed and reached  a maximum of  293 km/hour. It didn’t exceed 300km/hour.  Sometime back it used to ply at 350 km/hour or more, but due to some mishap in the recent past, the speed was restricted to below 300km/ hour. Sitting in the train one is not conscious of the high speed as there are no jerky movements or high-decibel noise. Our journey of 80 km from Beijing South and Tianjin was accomplished in just about 35 minutes, and a very refreshing one.  One notable remark about the public toilets in Tianjin station is that these are not very hygienic. 

Tianjin, China’s third-largest city, is located to the east of Beijing near the coast. The streets of Tianjin are a curious blend of 19th century European architecture and ultra-modern steel and glass skyscrapers. China’s sudden economic rise is evident from Tianjin’s business district. Skyscrapers such as the 75-storeyed World Financial Center dominate the skyline. 

With rapid economic development changing the city’s skyline, the officials in Tianjin have had the foresight to protect the colonial structures in the city. We strolled around Wu Da Dao (loosely translated as Five Avenues), an area where different European communities lived in the 20th century and established their imprint with their own unique architecture styles. There are different sections where different foreigners used to live: Japanese, Russians, Americans, Austrians, British, Italians and Germans along the banks of the Hai River.

Chinese writer Feng Jicai, a Tianjin resident, once led a campaign to preserve the old city. He said: “Once a nation has lost its own culture, it faces a spiritual crisis more dreadful than that brought on by material poverty. If you regard a city as having a spirit, you will respect it, safeguard it, and cherish it. If you regard it as only matter, you will use it excessively, transform it at will, and damage it without regret.”

As we walked around Wu Da Dao, we came across a curious building which appeared to have been put together with broken pieces of porcelain, elegant vases and dinnerware. We stepped in out of curiosity. It turned out to be something called China House Museum. While the museum ticket says that it traces the history of porcelain (and it is covered by porcelain outside), the museum houses antique furniture. A collector named Zhang Lianzhi turned an old French-style building into this porcelain showcase. He has used more than 700 million porcelain pieces, porcelain vases and dishes, and a few stone sculptures.

Tianjin is also famous for a museum dedicated to Zhou En Lai, a contemporary of Jawaharlal Nehru. However we could not make it possible to visit the place. 

We had our fill of pasta and pizza in one of the Italian restaurants on the Italian Style Street is very interesting with its unique Italian architecture, food, plazas and fountains. You can even buy typical Italian curios like models of the Leaning Tower of Pisa right here in Tianjin! The local Chinese seem to be fun-loving people and they move about freely, shopping and enjoying a variety of cuisines, whereas we get restricted because of our food habits due to our cultural or religious beliefs. Interestingly, we saw three couples in their wedding finery (Western style) getting elaborate photo shoots done in the Italian Style Street.

We returned to Beijing in the evening. We got off the train and started taking photos alongside the bullet train. As soon as we got off the train, workers stepped in and rotated their chairs effortlessly towards Tianjin’s direction for the journey back! Outside the train, more workers started to quickly clean the train with large wet mops. We were very impressed to see how they maintain the train. This is in sharp contrast to the appalling conditions of our Indian Railways, one of the largest employers in the public sector. We have to pick quite a few lessons from the Chinese railway administration which is so efficiently managed. There is no shame in doing .that.

On the whole, it gave us immense satisfaction to have visited a new city of a different and interesting world altogether, not very far from us, so to say a the trip of lifetime for us!

“I Climbed the Great Wall”

As part of our Chinese sojourn, our next visit was the most important and significant one for us. No visitor to China will return home without paying tributes to the ancient Chinese who toiled hard to create one of the wonders of the world, the Great Wall  of China. 

Known as 长城 (the long fortress) or 万里长城 (The long wall of 10,000 Li), the Great Wall stretches from Shanhaiguan, by the Yellow Sea to Jiayuguan Pass in the Gobi desert. The Great Wall is an astonishing feat of engineering and ingenuity of the ancient Chinese. The practice of building walls along China’s northern frontier began in 5th century BC and continued until the 16th century. The Chinese have walled their cities since earlier times and during the Era of the Warring States simply extended the practice to separate rival territories. The first emperor, Qin Shi  Huang, after having united China under one empire in 3rd century BC, joined and extended the sections to form one continuous defence against barbarian Mongol tribes. With the Ming dynasty, the wall’s upkeep became a priority, and from 14th to 16th century, military technicians worked on its reconstruction. The Ming wall is the one you see today.

The wall, 7 meters high and 7 meters thick with 25,000 battlements, served to bolster Ming sovereignty for a couple of centuries. It prevented the movement of the nomadic peoples of the distant minority regions and their plundering raids. Now this great monument is a great business. The restored sections of the wall are "besieged" daily by rampaging hordes of tourists, and touted by the government as a source of national pride. Its enduring image adorns all manner  of products, from wine to cigarettes and is even used on the visa stickers.

There are many sections of the Great Wall close to Beijing, including Badaling, Mutianyu, Simitai and Jinshanling. Some of them, such as Badaling, are teeming with people. We chose to go to Mutianyu instead to avoid the masses.

The Mutianyu Great Wall is a 3 km long section about 90 kilometers northeast of Beijing. We drove for nearly two hours along the expressway to reach Huairou, a small town at the foot of the wall. It was almost 2 o’clock when we reached there, so we stopped at Subway to grab a sandwich before getting on to the wall. Some tourist sites in and around Beijing – including remote ones such as Mutianyu – have popular fast food chains such as KFC, Subway or McDonalds, a welcome respite for people like us (especially Indians) who cannot eat a lot of Chinese food because of dietary restrictions.

Passing along a ridge through some lush green undulating hills, this part of the wall is well endowed with guard towers, built in 1368 and renovated in 1983. From the entrance, steep steps lead up to the wall, but we opted for the cable car to reach the wall. After a short walk through a rather touristy bazaar where locals were hawking everything from sun-dried fruit to t-shirts and curios, we reached the cable car stop.  

Seated on the cable car, one gets a rather majestic view of the territories all around. The wall goes up and down the green hills, punctuated by its watchtowers. In the distance, one could see the verdant mountain slopes.

Reaching the top was an exhilarating experience. The wall is pretty well-preserved and as you stand on top and watch the wall snake its way up and down the mountain peaks, you get lost in time. You can only imagine how it must have been like back in the day, with soldiers patrolling and guarding their territory. The wall runs across nearly 21,196 kilometres and was built over a period of 1,000 years! It is hard to imagine how anyone was able to build something like that over such diverse and difficult terrain.

We stayed on top of the wall for a while, climbing up and down, and trying to soak in the ambiance  We steered clear of the immensely steep stretches – if we went down those, we would have to endure a very arduous climb back up.

There is something to be said about tourist infrastructure in China. The Great Wall, from what we saw, was pristine and beautiful. Unlike a lot of historical places in India, the monument is kept clean – there is no rubbish anywhere. People don’t vandalize it – you don’t see youngsters etching their names on the wall. Once you are on the wall, you are not besieged by hawkers and touts – something that’s very common in India. The only exception is people selling water and cold drinks. Again, they don’t bug you. Because of this, you are able to appreciate the monument for what it really stands for. It was also interesting to see Chinese, young and old come out to appreciate the heritage of their great land!

Going down from the wall was another exhilarating experience. I chose to use the toboggan slide instead of the cable car. The toboggan slide zig-zags down the mountain slopes and you have to control it with a hand-held brake. Sliding down the valley was a refreshing  experience.

Back at the base, I bought a T-shirt. “I climbed the Great Wall,” it proclaimed. I deserved. it.

你好 中国 - Ni Hao China!

It had been long since we ventured out of India. Returning from the African continent in 1987, after serving there for almost two decades in the beautiful countries of Uganda and Zambia and then continuously working in the North Indian twin towns of Jagadhri and Yamuna Nagar, which also happen to be my home towns as well. 

A well-deserved break was a must. The last two decades have been a turbulent period for us in various ways. We had to establish ourselves in India with not much moolah in hand. The biggest worry was to educate children in the right environment so they could stand on their own as honourable and useful citizens of India. The second thing on our minds was to take care of the ageing parents back home. Now in hindsight, it appears we could achieve our twin objectives to a logical extent.

Our son Rajeev works in Mumbai as a banker and his wife Neeti is a marketing professional, and had been working with telecom and FMCG companies and now heads a FM radio station. Both are doing very well there, and we have been visiting them at least once a year.  

Our daughter, Neelima , a journalist, is working as a Senior Editor, with a business school, in Beijing, China. Earlier, she was in the US on a Fellowship with the University of California in Berkeley for a year and half. Her husband, Maulik, an architect who did his Masters from Berkeley, works as chief urban designer with an architectural firm in Beijing. Their long standing invitation brought us here.  It gave us immense pleasure to be with them after a prolonged wait.

So little over a week back, Meenakshi and I flew into Beijing - nearly after over ten days of painstaking preparation - getting the visas done, forex, etc. We flew in on an Air China Airbus A330 directly from Delhi. The flight took off from Delhi's swanky new Terminal 3, which has been constructed by the GMR Group - a symbol of India's resurgence. The flight took nearly 6 and a half hours - it was quite comfortable  though we could not sleep a wink. 

Despite a capacity of nearly 300 passengers, this Airbus A330 was less than a quarter full. Most passengers were from Punjab travelling to Tarraanto (Toronto) and other places in Cannadda (Canada) - I have tried to reproduce in verbatim the way rustic Punjabis call Toronto and Canada in a guttural fashion! These passengers were to transit through Beijing.

We touched down at Beijing in the morning. My first impression was obvious - Beijing, the capital of China is a great city with old traditions and modern flavours. The airport is quite well developed and modern with an internal subway system (metro rail) to take you for quite a distance to baggage claim belts.

Neelima was there to receive us as Maulik was in the United States for a week on work. The journey from the airport to their home in Shuangjing took about 40-50 minutes in a taxi. The ride was an eye opener. The roads are well paved without any potholes, no honking, and not many red lights to keep you waiting on the road. Traffic is very disciplined. There are so many flyovers and flyways to keep you going at a steady speed. Almost all the roads are lined with beautiful trees, well-trimmed hedges and beautiful flowers blooming with all sorts of colours. Greenery is there for all to see and enjoy. It was a lovely drive passing through the avenues of skyscrapers which are in abundance all around.

These days there is mild chill here in Beijing as the winter is fast approaching. We have started our 6 o’clock morning walks in the garden below the building where we are staying. We find many people doing various types of exercises like tai chi, some take their dogs out to ease themselves – in specially designated doggy toilets! Others are seen going to their work places, and small children going to school.

Change of security guards takes place in these well-planned towers clustered all over – the day-time security guards replace the night guards. These building guards are young, smart and very active, and can often be seen marching around like military men. Sometimes in the morning, we see someone fishing in a pond created for the water fountains. We wonder if it is permissible to do fishing as the fish therein are actually colourful and decorative meant for recreational purposes.

What struck us the most about Beijing is the cleanliness all around. There is no littering anywhere. As we go around shopping, we come across some workers picking up tiny scraps of paper, polythene and even small pieces of rubbish on the pavement. They put them in the dustbins which are quite well-placed at regular intervals. The good thing about the dust bins is that they are not shabby and the place around it is not dirty at all. If a hedge is being trimmed, all the trimmings are picked up and disposed of from the place at the same time.

As we watch from the window of our 12th floor (actually the 11th floor – because of traditional Chinese beliefs, a lot of Chinese buildings don’t have the 4th and 13th floors) apartment living room, we find the vehicles running smoothly at a normal speed on the road below. Drivers willingly stop at red lights even when there are no police personnel around to keep a vigil. No one misuses horns, and no one jumps the red light. Pedestrians also cross the road only on green lights meant for them to do so. This observation holds true even at 2 or 3 AM. All the roads have special paths for the pedestrians and special ones for the cycle riders who command due respect and are not despised.

  

Much like India, China too is an ancient land, with a long history, an impressive culture and deep ingrained sense of tradition. But the path to growth here in China is very different - its orderly and not chaotic as we see in India. We have a lot to learn from this ancient land!

Raising A Family...

One has to experience how life changes with the arrival of the first baby. And it is much more taxing for the mother than for the father. Our son, Rajeev, brought these changes in our lives gradually. Now as we were three in the family, we had to cater much more to the needs of the young one. We had to be home in time and relieve the nanny looking after him and take over the duties. Doing all this used to be a pleasure and gave us immense satisfaction. There were times when the nanny wouldn’t show up in the morning as we were about to leave for work and we had to take a quick decision to take him along with us. It was his godmother, Meera Rao, who stayed in the Makerere University campus, who would  take care of him as  Meenakshi was busy taking her classes in the University. Sometimes her daughter Shambhavi would be there to play with him.

As it went on, we noticed that Rajeev was picking up a bit of English to converse with the nanny or with us for his small needs. It dawned on us that he will not be able to pick his native tongue, Hindi, if we didn’t converse with him in our mother tongue. We had already seen some children of our friends who felt shy to talk in their own mother tongue and that was a great handicap. That’s how we avoided this pitfall.

Our home leave was due and we planned to travel to India in October, 1977. It was nice to be back home and meet everyone gradually during that period. Coming from the salubrious climes of Kampala, Uganda, we wanted to avoid the sultry summer months. 

Before returning to Kampala, we decided to visit Kashmir at the peak of winter season. Everyone advised against our visit because of extreme cold, and that too because we had a small child. Despite all that, we did go there for four days. It was a very good holiday for us seeing scenic places like Gulmarg and Pahalgam.

It was a strange coincidence that I met after 10 years one of my old friends and classmate in Medical College, Amritsar, Surinder Julka who was also on holiday from the UK. He was too had a like kid much like us. This encounter at the Tourist Reception Centre, Srinagar,  was unfortunately a very short one as his bus was leaving at that very moment for his destination.

Kashmir was relatively a peaceful place those days and we had enjoyed a lot in the hotel, houseboat as well as in the shikara. One must admit that we were the so called older people in the bus as most people were young couples on their honeymoon. However, the long cherished visit to Kashmir, the ‘Heaven on Earth’ was a memorable one.

Our return journey on 31 December, 1977 was rescheduled by Kenya Airways and they were kind enough to offer a free drink on New Year’s eve to usher in 1978. As we touched Nairobi in the morning, we heard a sad news that an Air India plane taking off from Bombay on New Year day for Dubai, carrying most of the labourers going to Middle East to eke out a good living, plunged into the Arabian Sea killing all the passengers. It was such a great tragedy for Air India, a great airline of that time, as well as the families of those who perished there.

We were back to our routine after our return. There was a possibility of getting an apartment on the Makerere University campus and we were very keen for that. It would save us the hassle of travelling daily for 4-5 km to our places of work. It was only during early June of 1978 that we succeeded in getting allocation of the house.

It was on June 6, 1978 that we received a telegram informing us that Meenakshi had lost her father on June 4, 1978. Such a tragic news brought gloom to all of us there. It was a great and irreparable loss.  He was in active service of All India Radio as an Editor of the Hindi news service. In fact, the news of his demise was flashed on All India Radio, external service meant for East Africa. Somehow, we missed the news, and got to know later via the telegram. A visit to India was contemplated, but was abandoned for it wouldn’t be of much use at that stage. It was also a time for us to relocate ourselves in Makerere University campus in the building, Quarry House.

It is worth mentioning here that our daughter, Neelima, a journalist, happened to be in US on a Fellowship in the University of California, Berkeley in 2010. She visited Uganda for a project. She made it a point to visit the same apartment, B-8 in Quarry House, after 30 years, and took snaps of the same furniture we used there. It had a great sentimental value for us. She saw most of the university buildings housing various departments, including that of Biochemistry where Meenakshi, had worked. 

Neelima also met Dr. Albert James Lutalo-Bosa, who was the head of Biochemistry at that time and later retired as the Vice Chancellor of Kyambogo University. In fact, the whole family was there to receive her and hosted a sumptuous dinner for her. She spent two lovely days with the family.  

Later she visited some of the hospitals where I had worked, viz., Masaka, Kapchorwa and Mulago. She met some of our old friends still there. She also went to the Gurudwara and the temple in Kampala. All those photographs are a great treasure for us.

The New Arrival!

My wife, Meenakshi, and I were getting used to the life in Kampala in our respective fields. She being a raw hand in teaching was given a firm encouragement and positive support by her boss, the head of Makerere University's Biochemistry Department, Professor Bosa. This went a long way in boosting her confidence in herself in those initial stages of her career. My work was cool in the hospital as usual, without any major excitements, much unlike the experiences in the interior.

As life was moving on, we were expecting our first child soon in April, 1976. Meenakshi was carrying on with her normal routine work at home, her teaching work and our social engagements. It was Easter time and there were four holidays including the weekend. As  per routine we visited the Gurudwara  and some of our friends on Sunday. Meenakshi was not all that well and she showed some signs of pain and discomfort by evening. I got her admitted to the nearest Rubaga Hospital at about 11 PM. Rubaga Hospital was just about10 minutes drive from our abode. By next day she had been in labour pains for almost about 24 hours. A young German doctor on duty seemed to be very busy attending to some other patients as well. Since I happened to be there, he asked me to take care of her in the labour room itself. It was then that she delivered our first born a son. It happened to be Easter Monday evening. 

It was a great relief and time for jubilation since the delivery was normal, smooth, safe and without any complications with the grace of Almighty God. A few hours after delivery, she was moved to the room and asked to take a bath as against our traditions in India with so many taboos and rituals associated with post delivery period. All went well against so many odds. Justice Asthana had to delay his departure for circuit duty to Mbale the next morning, because he wanted to be around at this critical juncture and also because, as per Indian traditions, he wanted to feed our newborn some honey (shahad chatana). To our son, he was his always his Nanaji (maternal grandpa).

That was the occasion when we could see so many acquaintances coming forward to give us a helping hand in that strange land of Uganda where essential commodities were very much in scarcity. We cannot forget all those little gestures, which never made us feel out of place. All were so keen to celebrate the occasion with full gusto. On 10th day after the birth, a havan was solemnized.  The Sehgals, Uppals, Raos, Asthanas and Goyals assisted us in organising the prayer function. These wise and elderly couples alongwith  some other friends were like parental figures for us. I am so sad to state that many of them are no longer in this world now. It was during the havan that Mr Uppal insisting on naming the baby and we decided to call him Rajeev!

As per Indian traditions, we were not supposed to use the new clothes for the new arrival. Hence some old and used clothes were provided by one Mr. Lotay of Entebbe, who later migrated to Canada. When in Masaka, before moving to Kampala, we met a very humble and amiable Pakistani teacher, Mr. Bhatti, from Petaro, Pakistan. His wife had made a very kind offer to stitch dresses for the baby. On our shifting to Kampala and as they learned of the birth of Rajeev, Mr. Bhatti made a special journey to Kampala to deliver the clothes. We didn’t have enough words of thanks to convey our feelings to this Bhatti family of Pakistan. Only we can pray to God to shower His blessings on them. These are some of the great experiences we had in that land, for which we are so nostalgic.

Time passed and both of us were managing to look after Rajeev. Our houseboy was there to help with the household chores, and an ayah (nanny) was also engaged to take care of Rajeev during Meenakshi’s duty hours, which were quite minimal after one month of maternity leave. That was the understanding in her department. We were fortunate to have enough time at our disposal  between two of us to look after our child. 

A new problem cropped up. For a proper communication between ayah and Rajeev, we had to make sure that we talk to him in English and he learns how to speak and understand the language and be able to communicate with his ayah, who were using broken English. He started picking up the language well and could convey meaningfully to some extent as best as a child could do at that age of one or one and a half.

Hakuna Matata, Kampala!

Once formalities completed for us to move, we shifted to Kampala in February, 1976. After a few hurdles, we got a house allocated in the Mutagwanya Estate near the Rubaga cathedral, with its Rubaga Hospital managed by German doctors, about four miles away from our working places in Makerere University and Mulago Hospital. The housing estate was situated on the Rubaga hill and it had a very beautiful view of Kampala city. The estate had 10-12 beautiful independent houses, each with a lush green grassy lawn with trees around that made it very pretty. 

Settling down in Kampala became much smoother with the great and timely help of the Asthanas. Till today, we can’t forget their help and feel greatly obliged towards them. Our ties with them as a family grew stronger and stronger as the time went on. 

Kampala enjoys a wonderful location, closer to the Lake Victoria at an altitude of 3,900 feet, on seven hills, namely, Kampala, Kasubi, Mengo, Namirembe, Rubaga, Nsambya, Kololo plus others like Nakasero, Tank, Mulago and Makerere hill. Kampala is not very far from the Equator. Close proximity to the lake coupled with a good altitude makes the climate very pleasant, with temperatures varying between 20-30 degrees Celsius with frequent tropical rains and the greenery around.

As the tropical rains were very frequent, temperature used to come down significantly and the roads and pavements got cleaned up - giving the city an even more beautiful appearance. Words cannot do justice to what this feels like -- one has to experience it to know it.

We reported at our places of work and started our duties diligently. Meenakshi started her work at the Department of Biochemistry, Makerere University. The university has a beautiful campus on Makerere hill with various departments and housing complexes for staff -- good independent houses and apartments in the form of flats in larger buildings. Makerere was once a great university, considered the best in East Africa -- the likes of VS Naipaul and Paul Theroux, both great writers, taught there in the 1960s. In fact, Paul Theroux, who lived in an apartment on the campus, wrote about his return to Makerere after three decades in his travel book Dark Star Safari.

Dr. AJ Lutalo Bosa, Head, Department of Biochemistry and Meenakshi's boss, was very humane and understood very well the hesitations and apprehensions of the newcomer. That made the settling-in in teaching an easier process for her.

Kampala being the capital, was far more cosmopolitan and had quite a good expatriate community. Despite the 1972 exodus, Kampala still had a huge number of Indians. Being in Kampala brought us close to to our own countrymen. Meera Rao who lived on the university campus was a great friend and was like an elder sister or mother for Meenakshi in difficult times. Mrs. Meera was an excellent cook and we still remember her cooking. Her good advice or suggestions were solicited and welcome. Her husband SRA Rao was with the UNDP and attached to the Department of Statistics at Makerere. They had two loving kids - Shivkumar and Shambhavi.

Amongst the old timers were the Bowry brothers who were elderly and like our parents. Their wives happened to be real sisters too. They hailed from Ludhiana, Punjab, and were originally working with the legendary East African Railways and later became builders. With their progeny well settled in Nottingham, UK, they were merely enjoying a retired life on their properties here and remembering good old days.

At the Bowrys' place we happened to meet Dr. Berry, who was working for the WHO. His daughter-in-law Ritu Beri is a world famous fashion designer today.

Another important friend, Kaka Harjeet Singh was a very good car mechanic and his Ismaili wife was a very good host. They had four sons, the younger two were twins, never still and real naughty. He used to help us maintain our old Ford Escort.as a special case, though he was catering for the police vehicles only.

I was assigned to the old Mulago Hospital in the General OPD. My stint at Mulago was more of a sedentary sort of life with hardly any emergencies. It was a lot different from what I used to have in the hospitals upcountry which had the minimal necessary staff and posed a real challenge regarding how to manage our patients well. Soon life started to come to a normal track and we were getting used to it gradually. Of course I would have occasional duties in the Casualty Department on Sundays to relieve other doctors. Those days Mulago Hospital was very modern, with six storeys. It was a teaching hospital and referal of repute in East Africa. The new building had been inaugurated by the Duchess of Kent in 1962 and was a gift of the British government to the people of Uganda at the country's Independence. On its rolls were famous and dedicated faculty like Dr. Dennis Burkit, known world over for Burkit’s Lymphoma and Prof. SMM Karim who is renowned for research on Prstaglandins as well as Prof. Krishna Somers, who is now settled in Australia.

It was always a good experience to interact and mix-up with so many people from various sections, from the hospital, university, UNDP experts, the locals long settled in businesses. But they were now devoid of all that enthusiasm because of  Amin’s policies. That made the well-minded professionals upset and a little depressed. There is no denying the fact they had toiled with their blood and sweat to bring their businesses and enterprises to such great heights.

The temples and gurudwaras were good social meeting places for all of us especially on Sundays and on festive seasons. The community lunch, langar, in Kampala's gurudwara, was a welcome change for homesick people like us, who are used to eating the simple dal roti in India. We used to relish this food  from the core of our hearts. Even more enjoyable were the interactions with the friends from a cross-section of the society comprising Indians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis and Europeans. The atmosphere was so congenial and friendly despite all the problems Uganda faced. The Akhand Paath, Dussehra, Holi and Diwali were special occasions to celebrate with all the people flocking in great numbers with all the gusto. Dandia and garba dances by the Gujaratis were a treat to watch. For people like us from north India, it was something novel, special and very graceful. It was an exhilarating experience worth mentioning.and enjoying.

Despite shortages of essential commodities, security problems and the greater risk of venturing out at night, there was a spirit of taking life as normal and facing it boldly. That’s how the Ugandans went about their business as usual dismissing all their worries with a casual remark of Hakuna Matata, Swahili for ‘no problem’!!!!

Oneness with Nature!

By 1975, I had been in Uganda for almost five years, and had been quite busy with my professional work plus facing the problems associated with the exodus of the Asians. So far, we hadn't been able to visit any National Park in the country. Now since my wife Meenakshi had also joined me in Masaka, we decided to finally have a little break and go on a safari and see the animals in their natural habitat.

The very famous Murchison Falls with its National Park was renamed by Idi Amin as Kabarega National Park in the 1970s, after King Kabarega  who reigned over Bunyoro around the end of the 19th century. The King had resisted colonization by the British, was arrested and was exiled by the British to the Seychelles. King Kabarega died in Jinja, in 1923 en-route to Bunyoro while returning from exile. This episode always sounded so familiar to what had happened in India, when the freedom struggle was being fought.

The change in name was never legally promulgated. The name of the falls and the national park reverted to Murchison Falls following the downfall of Idi Amin. This area was explored by a British explorer, Sir Samuel Baker, in the 1800s, who christened the falls after Sir Roderick Murchison, the then president of the Royal Geographical Society.

We drove to Hoima in our Ford Escort. The journey from Masaka to Hoima via Kampala was an exciting first long drive for us as a couple. It was a pleasant experience to be together on this journey. The weather was fine, though not very cool as the month of December is usually dry around these parts and the greenery also diminishes a bit. 

At Hoima, we spent the night with Dr. Rajendra Kumar and his family. Dr. Kumar had been there since I left Hoima, and was living in the same house where I had lived while in Hoima. Being there once again felt good even though we were there for a short while only. Dr. Kumar had a very energetic and lively 3-4 year-old son, who was very social and hospitable. It was he who would offer beer and insist on replacing the bottles once they were empty, and also would remind us to replace them in the fridge. It was quite amusing to see him work like that. Not only that, he was also sipping from his father's glass but his parents did not seem to mind it or were rather encouraging I would say. After a good night’s rest we started off for the park early in the morning. Dr Kumar and his family joined us for the trip to Murchison National Park. Hoima to Murchison Falls and National Park took us about three hours.

On reaching Murchison National Park, we had some snacks and rested a while in Paraa Safari Lodge which is tucked away in this away beautiful hideaway far from the urban locales. Paraa is now owned by the Madhvani Group, a business conglomerate, owned by an Indian family. Incidentally, the Bollywood actress married the scion of the Madhvani family in 1974. Indeed, India has been tied to Africa in countless ways!

Then we roamed around in the park and enjoyed some stunning views. We saw quite a few baboons, elephants and hippos in the water. This was the first time we had seen animals in their natural habitat. The lodge was full of tourists of various nationalities, enjoying the sight of wild animals in their natural environment and relishing the hospitality of the Ugandans. There was a lot of hustle and bustle. It was a very good and refreshing change for us in a relaxed atmosphere, far from the turmoil of the city.

Watching the wild game in the National Park was an amazing yet exclusive experience. We were amazed how the droves of animals roamed about freely, oblivious of human beings around them close by clicking the cameras to capture them. A strange thought crossed the mind that we are now viewing these animals at close quarters and admiring the creations of nature in their own environs roaming about, yet we leave no opportunity to poach and kill them for sport or food. It may be for relishing the game meat or for trophies to be displayed very proudly in our living rooms. We tend to derive a great pleasure out of all these misadventures of ours. How nice it would be if we can have a peaceful and meaningful coexistence on this planet. Then there wouldn't be any danger of extinction of some of the species which are already rare to find. Those will just be in history books for our future generations to learn and see their pictures like the dinosaurs which disappeared from this earth millions of years ago. Surely, it does help to be in tune with Nature and its beings, that's what Africa taught me.

But at that moment, Meenakshi and I felt the oneness with Nature!

The Next Phase in Masaka

Two years of hectic activity in Hoima after the exodus of Asians was a unique experience. To work there in the country with depleted work force and the absence or near absence of essential things was a great learning period for doctors like me who were there and had to see that the services continue as normally as possible. For that one had to be imaginative, learn to live with minimal needs and innovate here and there, not only at home with regard to food , and also in the hospital while dealing with the sick patients. Working to the maximum capacity under those trying conditions and achieving satisfactory or good results was there to feel rather than describing on the paper in a few words. One does get the feeling that a human being has a lot of potential. Sadly this potential is not exploited.to its maximum for fear of failure or lack of guts or incentive or all combined together.

Now, it was a time for me to proceed on vacation to India in January, 1975. I had to be home by the third week of the month in order to be able to participate in the marriage ceremony of my youngest sister, whereas the elder one to her had already been married in October, 1974 in my absence. I started my journey well in time for that. Boarded the flight in Entebbe and arrived in Nairobi. The connecting flight from Nairobi to Bombay was delayed from London by 7-8 hours because of fog and the inclement weather. On demand the airline put  us up in a hotel in the mid of the town,called Hotel 680. The nomenclature appeared a little odd. Our first question to the receptionist was about the name of the hotel..He clarified that there were 340 double rooms in the hotel , hence, the Hotel 680. After that the flight to Bombay and Delhi was uneventful. I reached home just in time to partake in the marriage activities, and everything went well as planned.

I had a few quiet days of rest and then feverish activity of search for a suitable soul mate started through print media, of course. The quest ended towards the end of February and I got engaged to my wife, Meenakshi, and the wedding was solemnized in mid April. She had just completed her M.Sc. (Hons. School) in Biophysics from Panjab University in January. 

As my leave was about to end, I left for Uganda five days after the marriage. My wife was to join me later. The primary reason being the fear that without visa she may be denied entry in the country. However, later on it was confirmed that she will be provided with visa on arrival at the airport. Meenakshi arrived in Uganda in mid July,1975. We visited Mr. DK Goyal, Chief Roads Engineer based in Entebbe. They were like our parents and welcomed Meenakshi like a new daughter in law, which gave her a very good feeling in that far flung country. We continued to be in touch with the Goels, who later moved back to Delhi and settled in  East of Kailash.

Meanwhile, I was posted to Masaka Hospital, eighty miles south west of Kampala. There Dr MK De, was the Medical Superintendent. He was one of those 20 or so doctors recruited from India in 1969, I being one of them.

 In the initial days at Masaka, I had to stay in Hotel Tropic Inn till my house was ready for occupation after a week. I understand this hotel got destroyed in the bombing raids of liberating forces in 1979. 

Masaka at that time had a motley of expatriates of various nationalities, comprising Bangladeshis, Canadians, Dutch, French, Indians, Pakistanis and Russians. In the hospital there we had two Russian doctors, Magomedov, a surgeon and his wife a gynaecologist, two Bangladeshi doctors and a young Ugandan doctor as well.  There was one Dr Ronald Schuurs from the Netherlands, who was working in the bush at the Villa Maria Hospital, half way between Masaka and Kampala. We had a great interaction with his family.

We used to mix freely with one another without any prejudices. We used to often visit a Pakistani Magistrate, Justice Mehndi. He had migrated from Meerut to Pakistan in 1950s and his wife was from Lahore, a Punjabi. Mrs. Mehndi's Punjabi was like music to our homesick ears! The Mehndis would take care to ensure that our meals would be without beef, in deference to our religious sentiments. How times have changed now - I wonder how difficult would be interactions between Indians and Pakistanis today!

Along with the De family, Meenakshi and I took a few memorable weekend trips, including a boating expedition to Lake Nabugabo, near Masaka. Mr. Reddy (from Hyderabad), who was working with Tata Motors, in Kampala, joined us for the trip, alongwith his family. We stayed for two nights in the cottages on the shores of the lake, where early each morning, the fishermen would bring their fresh, early morning catch alongwith with some fresh fruit. This lake had the distinction of being the only lake in Uganda that was free from Bilharzia. The interactions we used to have with expatriates in Masaka, helped Meenakshi settle fast in the alien land.

But we must say that even Ugandans went a long way in making our lives a lot more richer. While we were in Masaka, we met a Ugandan District Education Officer (DEO), Mr. Katende. While conversing he got quite impressed with my wife's credentials, he immediately suggested that she must teach and must not sit at home, as there was a shortage of teachers there. Later, he spoke to the Headmaster of Kitovu Senior Secondary School and asked us to go and meet him. The Headmaster immediately appointed her as a teacher, and she started her teaching career. 

As and when we met again the DEO, he was of the opinion that she would be more suitable for the University and not for the school. On his insistence, we went and saw the Head of the Biochemistry in the University of Makerere in Kampala. He kept her testimonials and thesis for M.Sc. (Hons. School) for study. Later she was appointed as a Teaching Assistant and later a Lecturer in the Dept. of Biochemistry., and joined there in February 1976. 

Before she could start working there in the University, Dr AJ Lutalo Bosa, Head, Dept. of Biochemistry, gave me a letter of his intention of appointing Meenakshi in the University. The Health Ministry was quite amenable to transfer me to Kampala, saying that to get the services of two expatriates they will have to provide only one house, and one set of family air fare to India and back. Thus Uganda was gaining by utilizing the services of two officers. This gave a good foresight to their very pertinent thinking beneficial to their own country. With time, we developed a very strong bond with the Bosa family that still continues on till this day.

Years later, our daughter Neelima undertook a journey back to Uganda and met the Bosa family - she stayed with them for a day and they did lay down an impressive feast just like one would do for the homecoming of a loved one. Through the pictures, we could gather, it was a lot like a big family reunion.

Perhaps it is true that bonds like these do not depend on how often you interact. These bonds are timeless and priceless!