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.