Stories

There is that stereotypical image of traditional life in Africa with a village elder sitting in front of the campfire telling stories to the children in order to impart wisdom and teach the history of the tribe. While modern academics may bemoan the perceived loss of this practice in post-colonial Africa, it seems to me (from my admittedly limited perspective) that oral tradition remains alive and well in these parts. The village elders may look a little different and the campfires may have changed somewhat, but stories are still a vital form of communication here.

Just as the village children would gather around the tribal elder to listen to stories, I have found myself listening to the wisdom of people who have been here longer than me. I have heard amusing anecdotes, cautionary tales, historical accounts, genealogical chronicles, epic sagas, exaggerated yarns, local legends, extended narratives and just about any kind of story imaginable. I’ve barely been here two weeks and in that time I’ve heard stories of persecution under Idi Amin and tales of close encounters with snakes, lions, elephants and all manner of wild animals. I’ve listened to tragic accounts of the vulnerability caused by poverty and learned of the innumerable challenges people have to overcome to make a better life for themselves and their families. But for each of these sad stories, I have heard inspiring tales of generosity, courage and resourcefulness.

I have listened as the Canadians with whom I work tell of their experiences, but I’ve also heard stories told by Ugandan teachers, school administrators, and even a game warden. One evening, I listened to stories recounted by two young Irish women working in a hospital here and in church one Sunday a visiting Kenyan pastor shared stories from his home. I’ve heard varying political and religious viewpoints and have heard stories from both the male and female perspective. People have shared stories to pass the time in the evenings or on the long drives from place to place; each day presents many opportunities for the telling of tales and I never tire of hearing them.

Right now, I feel like that village child sitting at the feet of the elder; I am trying to learn as much as I can from the stories I’m hearing because each tale adds to my understanding of this place and the people who live here. The problem is that every new story makes me realize how much more there is to learn! I appreciate each of the “elders” so far who have shared their wisdom and I can’t wait to hear the stories tomorrow will bring.