My Second Home: Is It Life In Exile?

I am reminded of a story that I used to hear when I was young. According to Ugandan folklore a hyena met a woman on the road and carried on the following dialogue:

Hyena: Where are you coming from?

Woman: I am coming from my home.

Hyena: Where are you going?

Woman: I am going home

Hyena: The hyena laughed. Women! You sound pretty confused to me. How can you come from your home and go to your home at the same time?

Woman: I am coming from my parents’ home and I am going to my husband’s home.

If you excuse the Ugandan chauvinism in this story, you will be able to glean the complex nature of dual identity.

Anyone who has lived outside their mother country will understand what I am talking about. You are most of the time torn between opposing demands from your original country and your adopted country.

In the early eighty’s my life was in danger because of political turmoil and I had to flee my country, Uganda.

Between 1981 and 1983 I lived in exile in Nairobi, Kenya – that meant I could not return to Uganda, not even for a visit. At that time it was easy for me to say that I was living in exile.

I used to write then, as I do now. And when I was looking through my notes one thing that struck me about my life in exile was the endless waiting for things to happen. I was always waiting for someone to make a decision about my…