Orange for the Sunsets
Page 17
Thump. A stamp for her.
The page was bruised with a dark purple stain. The officer slid the passport across to Mama. “He’ll check your suitcases,” he said, and pointed to another officer standing next to the baggage ramp.
Mama lifted the suitcases onto the metal table. After passing through six checkpoints along Entebbe Road, what did the officer think he would find? He patted the cuffs and lining of the clothes, pulling and yanking at the hems of tunics, almost ripping off the embroidery and mirrored beads. When he was finished with the last suitcase, he snapped his fingers, and within seconds the two bags disappeared through a dark hole in the wall.
Just as they turned to leave, the officer held up a hand to stop them.
“We’re not done.”
58
Yesofu
YESOFU HADN’T SEEN Akello since that night they pulled Asha out of the well. His mamma and two sisters were still in Katabi, but Akello had disappeared. He’d left them just like his dad had done.
“Akello?”
He didn’t answer. It was as if he didn’t see Yesofu, but then he climbed out of the jeep. He wore the standard army camouflage uniform. Only on Akello, it hung in places, like he didn’t quite fit. The beret on his head sat at a crooked angle and slipped lower on his forehead as he walked over. Yesofu stood and matched Akello’s stare.
“You joined the army?” Even as Akello stood in front of him, he still couldn’t quite believe that this was his friend. “Why?”
“You wouldn’t get it.”
“Try me.”
“It’s just . . . We don’t sit around waiting for our dreams to happen. We’re doing something to make them happen.”
“Like leaving Asha in the well.”
“I would have let her out. . . .”
“What about getting her dad arrested?”
“They had Mr. Gomez on their watch list. I didn’t tell the soldiers anything they didn’t already know.”
“But you didn’t know that.”
“I did what I had to do.”
Yesofu couldn’t imagine ever needing to do something like that, to betray a friend, put someone in danger. “What happened to you?”
Akello shrugged. “I’ve got a bed. I don’t have to worry about food. I’m doing something for Uganda. How can that be so wrong?”
“Keep telling yourself that . . . but it isn’t true.”
“Akello!” one of the soldiers shouted from the jeep. “Harakisha.”
Akello fell silent. Then he turned and walked back to the jeep.
Yesofu stared at the dust cloud the soldiers left behind.
Yesofu hopped on his bike and headed home, too late remembering the fish Mamma had asked him to buy. Idi Amin had promised change would come to Uganda. And he was right. Everything had changed. No Asha. No Akello. No jobs. No money for school fees. No food. Dada Amin had promised a great future, but a future is hard to build when there’s nothing left.
59
Asha
THE OFFICER HELD Mama in his stare. Asha clenched her hands into fists. They were leaving Entebbe. That’s what Amin and all these soldiers wanted. Why couldn’t they just leave them alone and let them get on the plane? Mama didn’t move, except for her fingers, warm and sweaty, as they crept down Asha’s arm, searching for her hand. Her gold bangles jingled ever so slightly.
“Hand me your purse,” the soldier demanded.
Mama released Asha’s hand and placed her purse on the metal table. The officer’s eyes were glued to Mama’s bangles. He placed his hand inches away from her fingers.
“The money for that gold came from my country,” he said. “My people worked so you could afford those.”
Mama didn’t say anything, but her shoulders slumped, like she couldn’t take one more thing. She pressed her arm against her heart and held it there for a minute. Then she looked at the officer and pushed the cluster of bangles together, until they formed one thick band of gold.
Then her fingers reached for one of the bangles, pulling it apart from the group, sliding it down her arm and over her knuckles. She held it in the air, swinging it between her fingers before setting it down in front of the officer.
“What are you doing?” said Asha. “Papa gave those to you.”
Mama held up her hand. One by one she slid each thin bangle off her arm and set them down on the metal counter.
Ting.
Ting.
Ting.
The bracelets tinkled against one another as Mama kept adding another and another until all twelve lay in a cluster of gold on the table. When her arm was bare, she stood up straight with her shoulders back.
“Now you can go.”
Mama met the officer’s gaze, her lips tight against whatever politeness would have been required in some other time. Then she turned and walked out the doors.
Asha stepped outside into a hot gush of wind. She followed Mama out onto the tarmac, where a massive plane waited—a big, white BOAC DC-8. She pressed her fists over her ears to drown out the grinding sound of the giant propellers. The Ugandan flag flapped in the light breeze. Mama climbed onto the first step leading into the plane. Asha reached into her pocket and pulled out the four beads, holding them tightly in her fist. Her eyes scanned the lush mountains and billowing palm trees as the familiar wind cooled her skin. She shut her eyes and she did not see Uganda. She saw Papa’s face. Kind and knowing.
Mama took hold of Asha’s hand, squeezing it tightly, and Asha opened her eyes, looking through tears. The sun was sinking into the horizon, leaving behind an orangey glow. Neither of them said a word, but in that moment of absolute stillness, Asha knew they were both thinking of him.
Asha took a long, deep breath, and Mama’s chest rose and fell in rhythm with hers.
“Tutakutana tena.”
Until we meet again.
And together they stepped onto the plane.
90 Days in History
A Countdown to the Expulsion
In August 1972, President Idi Amin announced that there was no room in Uganda for Indians, spurring thousands of people to flee their homes. Here is what happened in the days leading up to the deadline:
August 4
President Idi Amin announces that all Indians with British citizenship have 90 days to leave Uganda.
August 6
India refuses to allow fifty thousand Indians with British citizenship to enter India, claiming that they are primarily Britain’s responsibility.
August 7
President Amin amends his announcement, expanding the expulsion to include all Indians with foreign citizenship.
August 8
Kenya closes its borders to any Indians leaving Uganda.
August 11
Indians in Uganda must now request approval from the Central bank to take any money out of the country.
August 12
Britain sends a government representative to Kampala, the capital of Uganda, to convince President Amin to allow Indians to stay.
August 13
After failing to persuade President Amin, Britain decides to admit up to fifty thousand Indians from Uganda, if they are also British citizens.
Britain requests help from countries in the United Nations in taking in Indian refugees.
August 14
President Amin declares that all Indians with Ugandan citizenship who do not verify their papers at the Immigration Office by September 10 will automatically lose their claims of Ugandan citizenship.
August 20
President Amin extends the expulsion to include all eighty thousand Indians in Uganda, including the twenty-three thousand who thought they had Ugandan citizenship.
August 22
The United Nations steps in under the Human Right’s Declaration to help the twenty-three thousand Indians without citizenship in any country to find refuge in other countries.
August 26
Canada sends a team of immigration officials to Uganda to accelerate the proc
essing of applications from Indians wishing to come to Canada. Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau says Canada is likely to take up to five thousand refugees.
August 27
President Amin announces that he will seize all foreign-owned businesses in Uganda.
August 31
The first group of refugees to leave Uganda arrives in London.
September 1
President Amin aims to make Uganda economically independent by not allowing any Ugandan shillings to leave the country.
September 4
The United Kingdom asks an additional fifty countries to accept expelled Ugandan Indians.
September 28
Canada accepts its first group of Indian refugees leaving Uganda.
October 3
The United States agrees to accept one thousand Asian Ugandans who are stateless—not recognized as a citizen of any other country.
October 17
President Amin announces that Indians will face up to two years’ imprisonment and a fine of fifty thousand shillings if they attempt to sell their business privately before they leave instead of turning it over to the government.
November 1
The United Nations agrees to fly out the four thousand Indians without any citizenship by the November 8 deadline and place them in transit camps before final resettlement in Europe and overseas.
November 8
Malta, Morocco, Greece, and Spain offer to help evacuate two thousand refugees from Uganda on the final day before the deadline, with assistance from the Red Cross.
November 9
The ninety-day period for Indians to leave Uganda ends.
Idi Amin decrees that all Indians still in Uganda are required to be registered. Less than eight hundred Indians are still in Uganda and most of these either have Ugandan citizenship or are expatriates from countries other than the United Kingdom.
Author’s Note
Some of the details in this story have been fictionalized, but the major events are based on research, news articles, interviews with family and friends, as well as my own memories. Though I was born in Entebbe, I left with my father and mother for Britain shortly after Idi Amin seized control of the presidency. In the weeks leading up to the expulsion deadline, I remember the family and friends who arrived on our doorstep in London, like my Aunty Phina and her three children. Over the years, I learned more about the expulsion through the stories told at gatherings and reunions. Stories about how disbelief and denial quickly turned to fear as violence, torture, and murder spread throughout Uganda. How homes and businesses were lost. How families were separated in a rush to leave before the deadline. Seeking to understand why the expulsion took place and what it has meant to Uganda, I researched events leading up to the expulsion and spoke to both African Ugandans and Indians.
The roots of the expulsion go back to 1895, when the Imperial British Government recruited Indian laborers to work on the construction of the railway line. After the completion of the railway in the twentieth century, some of these workers returned home to India, while others chose to stay. Over time, those who remained took up different jobs in other fields. While Uganda was still under British rule, a social system emerged that separated classes by ethnicity—Europeans, then Indians, and then Africans—affecting salaries, education, and social communities. In 1962, when President Milton Obote led Uganda into independence from Britain, Africans saw very little change in their status or quality of life, while Indians saw an increase in job and business opportunities. With growing concerns that Indians were monopolizing businesses and employment, many Africans in Uganda began to feel increased resentment toward Indians. By 1970, Africans had started placing pressure on the government to reduce the number of Indians in Uganda. And in response to this pressure, Obote’s government pursued a policy of “Africanization,” which targeted Ugandan Indians by restricting the role of non-citizen Indians in economic and professional activities.
In 1971, the commander of the army, Idi Amin, launched a military coup overthrowing Obote. He then declared himself president of Uganda and significantly increased the policies toward Africanization. He set up the State Research Bureau and Public Safety Unit, a military intelligence agency with the main purpose of eliminating those who opposed his regime. To further secure his position of power, Amin then declared an “economic war” aimed at transferring the economic control of Uganda back into the hands of Africans. This included a set of policies that seized properties owned by Asians and Europeans. In August 1971, Amin ordered a review of Indian citizenships and canceled any outstanding applications. In early December, he convened an Indian Conference where he acknowledged the Indians’ contributions to the economy and various professions, but also accused them of disloyalty, non-integration, and commercial malpractice.
On August 4, 1972, President Idi Amin ordered the expulsion of the fifty thousand Indians with British passports within ninety days. This was later amended to include all sixty thousand Indians who were not Ugandan citizens. By the time of the deadline, around thirty thousand Ugandan Asians immigrated to the UK. Others went to Commonwealth countries such as Australia, South Africa, Canada, and Fiji, or to India, Kenya, Sweden, Tanzania, and the United States.
In the years following the expulsion, Amin continued to seize businesses and properties that had belonged to Indians and Europeans and give them to his supporters. These businesses were mismanaged, which contributed to the further decline of Uganda’s economy. Inflation was around 200 percent a year and basic necessities like sugar, salt, and cooking oil soon became available only on the black market. Idi Amin’s brutality and widespread killings continued through his eight years in control. His victims included members of other ethnic groups, as well as religious leaders, judges, lawyers, students, intellectuals, criminal suspects, and foreign nationals. Among the most prominent people killed were: Benedicto Kiwanuka, the first prime minister of Uganda; Janani Luwum, the archbishop of the Church of Uganda; Joseph Mubiru, the former governor of the Bank of Uganda; Frank Kalimuzo, the vice chancellor of Makerere University; and two of Amin’s own cabinet ministers, Erinayo Wilson Oryema and Charles Oboth Ofumbi. The exact number of people killed is unknown, but exile organizations, with the help of Amnesty International, estimate that the number is around 500,000, marking Idi Amin as one of the most brutal military dictators to wield power in post-independence Africa. Today, the nation is still rebuilding its economy, but many Africans now own and manage schools, universities, hospitals, shops, resorts, and large enterprises.
Asha and Yesofu are both fictional, reflecting my own experiences and understanding of Uganda. Their story embodies tragedy, hope, and the strength of the human spirit in the face of adversity. But more than anything, I wanted the significance of their friendship to shine through. In all the stories I heard growing up and the times I saw family and friends meet—some for the first time since leaving Uganda—I noticed the most powerful connection was knowing who will be there for you, no matter what or when. And, I came to realize that no matter how many years passed since everyone had seen one another, the strong bonds of friendship and love that had been cultivated in Uganda endured.
Photo Section
Entebbe Institute gathering, circa 1952. Third row: Daddy’s younger brother is sitting on Papa’s lap and Nana is standing to his left.
Mum and me in our garden in Entebbe, circa 1969. Mum worked at the Grade A hospital and had delivered one of Idi Amin’s sons when he was still in the army.
Daddy and me in the Botanical Gardens, circa 1970.
Kampala Institute Jubilee Celebration, circa 1960. Daddy was on the planning committee and is standing next to his future sister-in-law, reviewing his speech.
Bibliography
“Country Studies: Uganda: Post-Independence Security Services.” Federal Research Division. United States Library of Congress.
“Disappearances and Political Killings—Human Rights Crisis of the 1990s—A Manual for Action.” Amsterdam: A
mnesty International, 1994.
“Flight of the Asians,” Time. September 11, 1972.
Honey, Martha and Ottaway, David B. “Idi Amin Squandered the Wealth of Uganda.” The Washington Post, May 29, 1979.
Keatley, Patrick. “Obituary: Idi Amin.” The Guardian (UK edition), August 18, 2003.
Lubwama, Siraje K and Abdullah, Halima. “Who Were Amin’s Victims?” Daily Monitor Special Report. Uganda. August 20, 2003. Retrieved from www.monitor.co.ug.
Luganda, Patrick. “Amin’s Economic War Left Uganda on Crutches.” New Vision. Kampala. July 29, 2003.
Patel, Hasu H. “General Amin and the Indian Exodus from Uganda.” A Journal of Opinion. 1972.
Additional Resources
Fiction
•Child of Dandelions by Shenaaz Nanji
•Where the Air Is Sweet by Tasneem Jamal
Nonfiction
•Out of Uganda in 90 Days by Urmila Patel
•RSVP Rice and Stew Very Plenty: The Story of an Ismaili Girl’s Expulsion from Uganda and Acceptance in Canada by Nazlin Rahemtulla with Margaret Fairweather
Films
•Mississippi Masala
•The Last King of Scotland
•Amin: the Rise and Fall
Acknowledgments
Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.
—William Arthur Ward
Thanks to . . .
—the family and friends who trusted me with their personal stories and experiences.
—Uma Krishnaswami, Sarah Aronson, and Kim Griswell for sharing their expertise and support.