A little girl with a gigantic basket full of bananas on her head had followed us since the moment we entered Kabale. Finally she reached us at the gas station. Her basket approached us at eye level before she showed up, too. She had plenty of spunk and a strong voice, though, to offset the unimportant inconvenience of her stature. "Why is she driving?", she asked, looking at Sam and nodding towards me. "Why not", he answered. Apparently not happy with such a simple explanation, she came back with another naughty question/statement: "But you are the man, no?"
Where the girl with bananas from Uganda has disappeared?
She was magnificent. Our bizarre pecking order didn´t seem to impress her at all. In a minute she was back to her original task: “Hey, Chinese, buy nice bananas” she shouted at our Japanese friend. Her cheeky comment disarmed me, and I burst into laughter. ” I am not Chinese, I don’t want your nice bananas“, said my friend.
It is unforgivable that we didn’t take a picture of this young lady. Her peculiar, gutsy approach gave our trip an unmistakable, vivid tone. She was our little secret agent, showing up from nowhere, steadily selling her nice bananas.
Uganda and the people of Uganda – they were often suspicious, but not hostile. When the initial discomfort vanished, the seriousness of their faces usually broke into disarming smiles. And doubly was this true of the children.
More about Uganda, read here.
Photos: Martina Advaney
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