It was Friday and we were supposed to be driving to Kampala for a meeting with Uganda’s Ministry of Health. We had planned on spending the better part of the day inquiring about RUTFs—specifically MANA—and Uganda’s policies. We had even flippantly conspired to sneak in our cameras and small audio equipment to capture some of the more incriminating moments. Heck, I even polished my best Jack Bauer moves (not really- but one can dream, right?) But, as we’ve come to expect, nothing here proceeds as planned. Instead of Kampala, we were left with the King… the King of Busoga.
After discovering that our trip to Kampala had been cancelled, Hannah and I elected to accompany Kibo’s Mvule Project for the day. The Mvule Project is an environmental sustainability initiative that aims to increase the presence of the mvule tree. While its shade was once used as a popular community-meeting place, mvule timber is now quite popular for its durability and quality, commanding a high commercial value. This reality combined with the fact that many mvule trees do not survive infancy (due to the destruction of humans, animals, and drought), contribute to the tree’s decreasing population. As I understand it, the Mvule Project provides villages with young mvule seedlings and financially compensates the community members for caring for the seedlings and seeing them through the first critical years of life. Each village then chooses how to invest the money—many deciding to build schools or clinics, dig water wells, invest in goats, and so on. The overarching goal seems to be to empower the local communities by giving them the power to control the circumstances of their village. The King of Busoga is one of the many advocates of the project and accompanied us on Friday to sit through community meetings, distribute, and then plant several seedlings. Because Hannah and I joined at the last-minute, the car with all of the Kibo staff members had already reached full capacity. The solution- send them to sit with the King… armed bodyguard and all.
The first half hour of the trip was spent in silence, each passenger awkwardly occupying him/herself with thumb twiddling, heel bouncing, or, as was the case with the guard, gun stroking. After all, not all of us are familiar with the proper etiquette of kings. What does one discuss with royalty?The previous night’s thunderstorm? His questionable legitimacy?
Then, his phone rang. Looking back, I honestly expected to hear the all-too familiar, painfully long, annoyingly pitched default ringtone that is preset to all Nokia phones. Then, Hannah and I would have thoughtlessly reached for our pockets to make sure that the call wasn’t for us (because, of course, we have the same unfortunate, default ringtone). The King would have answered his call and discussed whatever it is kings talk about to whomever it is they talk to. Instead, “Barbie Girl” rang through the car. The King of Busoga… royalty!….has “Barbie Girl” for a ringtone… You know, “I’m a Barbie girl in the Barbie world… Life in plastic, it’s fantastic…”
Read on…
