My Stupidity

On my final day in Jinja before heading back to Kampala, a revelation has hit me like a thunderbolt.  Had it not been for the gift of two little girls that befriended me at St Bernadette from day one, I would never have made the realisation.

I knew the tides had mysteriously turned this morning as I walked to church.  The children did all come out of their houses to wave and many to even cuddle me, but not once did I hear “Mzungu”.  In fact, they shouted “Miss Annie” with more pride and joy than I have ever heard in the weeks I have been here.  The little cuddles were heartfelt and loving and, as I neared the church, I finally noticed Fiona and Christine (two girls in Primary 6 from St Bernadette) waiting for me with beautiful faces beaming with happiness.

Their gift to me as a farewell was to do the walk ahead of me to church and to tell the children my name so that they didn’t have to shout “Mzungu” which, through no fault of their own, was the only way they knew to call for me.  It had such a profound effect on me that I cried.  Why had I not realised this sooner?  Why didn’t I myself tell the little ones my name and learn theirs weeks ago?  How utterly stupid of me.  At school I had been introduced by Sr. Lucy to all of the classes, with a clear name, and so it was a hurdle that I never needed to jump there.  But Fiona and Christine were able to, in their mother-tongue, make the little children understand along the main road and down the track to the church.  Suddenly I felt permitted to feel like a person and a friend, rather than just a colour.  It has made me very happy and I feel much more peaceful about my time in Uganda.

This has to be the most valuable piece of advice I could offer to any of you doing a trip like mine in the future: teach them how to use your name as soon as possible.  I wish I had learnt this lesson earlier on, but even at the eleventh hour it is not too late.