Despite Chris’ ancestors not bothering us in our sleep the night before, we all woke up late.

We also had this dripping water tank that seemed to have an overflow issue next to our room the previous night. Hence, the constant dripping water made us almost think we were sleeping next to a waterfall. For this night, nothing had interrupted our sleep. We slept off like dumbfounded seals.

Roland woke up earlier than me. He was all very cheerful, something good on a morning, and he had released a new song: “Ow’ekirevu kye…” (Literally means: Of his beard”) And you should have seen the smile on his face while looking at his beard in the mirror and combing his hairless head.

Knowing that we had up to 10 am for breakfast, I decided to snooze for another thirty minutes as my roommate finalised his beard song rehearsals.

We had a good breakfast and set off to Aruu falls in Pader. With a smooth road all the way, we took our time as we weaved out of the busy roads. The falls are located in Angagura, Pader district in northern Uganda, about forty-seven kilometres from Gulu city.

We joined Kitgum Road and continued our adventurous journey. The ladies looked meek for the morning. As for the dudes, nothing to write home about. They were just a bunch of chipmunks up to no good for the day.

The radio walkie-talkie light came on along the way with blubbering noises. As we slowed down to decipher the noises, we learnt that one of us had an emergency situation. We went slightly off the main road and waited to know the critical condition of Nelson’s Crew. Chris, now the driver, drove very close to our vehicle so that Nelson could clearly voice his concern in the co-driver’s seat.

“Guys, do you have an icy cold beer in your car fridge?”

We quickly glanced at ourselves, and the other occupants in my car scrambled into the ice box to fish out an icy beer can. I handed it to Nelson, who, looking like he had just been saved from an apocalypse, said to me: “You have saved a very critical emergency situation…! Thank you, Sir.” He called me Sir. I showed him my front set of teeth and a thumbs-up sign, and off we went.

About thirty minutes later, we caught up with the rest of the Africa Kwetu team and arrived at Aruu falls. You could hear the falls from the campsite, our arrival point.

One of the tour guides briefed us, and we divided into groups of approximately ten. This would enable us to walk more easily because of the narrow track down to the falls.

It seemed like no one wanted to walk down to the falls this time, even after our guides’ convincing words. This time, it was only Lillian and me. Even the man we saved from the emergency gave up after forty metres into the walk.
You would, however, see part of the falls from the top, but nothing compares to the view from the bottom of the falls.

We descended through a narrow rocky path towards the bottom of the falls. The trail is twisted among rocks and vegetation through which you can still view the spectacular waterfalls as the water gushes and hits against the rocks on its way down. At this point, I was alone. I couldn’t see any of my beloved crew members. I had heard a rumour that the mobile Whisky bar had been set up strategically at the campsite, which could have prevented those who attempted to join me on the walk down.

The terrain is steep and slippery, so the trek requires you to be in closed shoes or at least discard the boots and walk bear feet. The rest of the Africa Kwetu team that managed to walk down were having fun. The guys were now mostly showing off muscle power to some of the ladies, who had started crying for help or at least wanted a helping hand to go up to the end.

The cascading waterfalls pour the water into an area filled with rocks, so it continues on its journey. The most tricky area for those with a phobia of water is the crossing point to the lowest point of the falls. The water is fast and runs over stones and rocks, so you have to walk steadily over them with the help of the guides who are ready to hold your hand and help you cross over. If you are steady-footed, you just hold onto some creeping plants and find yourself ahead.

The management can do better by fitting some ropes along the crossing point. The visitors can grab and hold onto those for safer passage, especially for the weak-hearted and cry babies like some of my teammates.
I didn’t need any of those “give me your hand moments”, so my crossing of the fast-flowing water to my destination was swift.

“Wooooow….!” I said to myself.

Aruu Falls must be one of the most beautiful waterfalls in Uganda, without a doubt. Sheer beauty. I sat on a rock for some minutes as I admired this 8th wonder of the world. We were told that the amount of flowing water may drastically reduce in the dry season and vice versa. So we were lucky to have come during the rainy season when you see the falls in all their glory.

I stood up and climbed to a higher level to take some photos. I was sad, though. None of my crew was there for us to capture some memories. I had learnt a few selfie photo skills from a certain girl the day before. I pulled out my phone camera from the behind pocket, twisted it a little and tapped the big round red button a few times as I teethed to imitate a smile. I took about fifty shots in just a minute to make my teammates jealous at the mere thought of the entire experience.

As I turned around and repositioned to probably try to move to higher ground through the flowing water, I saw two familiar faces. It was Mark and Lillian.

Against all odds, they had done the impossible, or so I had thought. They managed to walk down the slippery rocks and trail and reached the falls. I could see that Lillian was happy to see me, but something else was more important to her. I had to return to the lower ground, help her to the strategic position I had acquired, like a fortress, take hundreds of photos, and harass me with more photos in all the awkward poses you can think of.

Mark was happy primarily about his accomplishment. He didn’t care much about joining our photo madness. For now, he only wanted a glass of whisky and maybe a night nurse. He applauded that his legs deserved a massage after two days of being subjected to unusual locomotion.

I might have been able to run away from Lillian in Nwoya on the way back. I couldn’t on this day on the way from the falls. It was slippery. She had no shoes on. She religiously wanted photos at every stage of the walk. Well, at least that saved me from walking with some of the bulls in the crew who would have ended up starting boring stories of Land Rovers.

I usually want to learn something new wherever I go. I love the wild and will take every opportunity to at least identify a new insect or bird species in the area. At one point, as we walked back up to the camp, I stopped to shake a small pebble from my shoe. I hoped to impress my mates with my little knowledge of rock types in Uganda. I didn’t know this one. It wasn’t a quartzite, sandstone or granite type. These are the only types I knew, anyway. I pocketed it, put my shoe back on, and grunted along the track.

We stopped briefly to rest. Branches met overhead, offering cool shade and a sense of peace as we watched the falls from a distance, mingled with the constant undercurrent of excitement that comes from walking in the bush. A beautiful bird named Bruce’s green pigeon was in one of the top branches. It has this conspicuous yellow chest that easily distinguishes it from other similar pigeons. It’s one of those sights to boast about, even among ardent birders.

Bruce’s Green Pigeon (Image Courtesy: African Bird Club)

I tried to get my phone from my rear pocket to take a photo of my new friend, but I instead startled him, and he flew away. He must have gotten irritated at the presence of this clumsy creature who was excited about a mere bird.
We finally arrived at base camp. Nelson was walking around the area in circles. I would later learn he was surveying the area for a good spot where we would sit, have a few drinks and snacks and wind down the day.

Paul pulled out something we didn’t expect yet. I named it the mobile whisky bar. This thing disguised itself as a table with a lower compartment that could house about twenty whisky and beer bottles. You lift it up, twist it a little, and it opens and locks. Untwist in the opposite direction, and then it closes. We were pleased with this piece of a precious commodity for the next three hours as we relaxed to the sounds of cheerful birds and the waterfalls in the distance.

We were told that a few things, like food and a few other items, were not yet in place because of a recent change in management. We survived on some biscuits and cashew nuts for the evening.

There was an attractive hammock near where we sat. Either out of hunger or just the need to nap off, Roland jumped into it like a cat in a newly discovered box and went to slumberland. The rest of us sat by the river flowing through the campsite and drank the remaining of our iced beers with some exciting whisky and gin cocktails invented by Sir Mark and Sir Paul. Even Lillian tried out a new drink, Amarula.

We left Aruu Falls and were back in Gulu before nightfall. Yes, we remembered to wake Roland up from his sleep. We freshened up for the evening, and our Head of Nights out, Nelson, had already prepared a surprise for us, so we came to learn.

We headed out for dinner to a place we’d all never been to. It’s called VIP P’Kaka. It was by the roadside on one of those side streets with names difficult to pronounce. Having gone for over seven hours without a meal, we were looking forward to some good food, whatever came out of the kitchen.

We waited for some time for the food to come to the table. When it did, we were just overwhelmed. We looked at the size of the meaty ribs served to us. Out of hunger, we demolished them in minutes until we realised this was just a starter. There was cassava, onions, lots of onions, tomatoes, avocado and more meat. Yes, about ten kilos of more mouth-watering meat skewers. Not even Roland could comprehend the intensity of the meaty mission at hand.
We had all eaten enough and couldn’t eat anymore.

We asked the staff to pack everything that remained for us of whatever animal we had eaten. Nelson must have ordered a whole animal of its kind. In my life, I have never seen that many succulent meaty ribs on a plate.

Roland received a phone call. It was from a girl. We were told that she worked in Gulu and that he and she were just friends. She joined us at the table for a few minutes. They were just friends. That’s what the man said.

It was time to check out another place. Kweyo. Apparently, it’s one of the best places to hang out in Gulu City. We also didn’t want Chris’ ancestors to taunt him while he slept for failure to take us out, at least for a night.
The entirely determined Nelson’s crew led us to Kweyo Village, located along Gulu to Olwiyo road. As we drove there, at some point, I thought we were heading back to Pakwach. Maybe the team had decided to go back for some more nang nang. Kweyo has this nice setup restaurant, a bar and a grill with beautiful gardens.

On such adventure trips through towns, I usually prefer and like my evenings quiet and calm. Despite the fun with friends when you go out, I usually like to relax. So on this day, my crew and I were not in the mood for a long night out. We just wanted to go out for at least an hour and leave. We knew that our friends, Nelson and Mark’s crew, wanted to be out till late. We also didn’t want to disappoint them after thirty minutes and tell them that we wanted to leave. We devised an “escape plan.”

Roland would not come to the table. He would have to find something to keep him busy but stay nearby, take some water, a beer or whatever he wanted but should not sit. Lillian would have to be quiet, sit by the table but not take any alcohol. Then I would have to monitor these two and avoid any indulgence that would make us stay longer than required. When all was set, we would leave quietly and disappear from the place in the blink of an eye. We thought this would be appropriate since it would probably be time for them to return to the hotel when our other friends found out.

Our team arrived at Kweyo Village and parked by the road. I parked strategically in a way to leave in less than a minute when the time came. We walked in, ambience was good. The place was lit well, with electric heaters in different positions to keep the area warm on cold nights. We loved the place. Kweyo is well stocked with all kinds of drinks you can think of: various types of wines, gins, soda, rums, whiskies and many others I have never seen or heard of. The bar is the length of a football field. Okay… maybe not a football field…but you get the idea.

There’s a section with a lovely pool table. I knew this would excite Roland, who has a keen interest in the game. He’s good at it, mostly because he has the time at home to go out and play almost anytime, with a place near his home that he frequents. But none of these other guys knew that. They all thought he was just a regular player. He beat everyone on our team that he played with. I was happy for him and us because this worked well for our escape plan, but we were still in the vicinity.

In other news, Lillian had been given a glass of wine. This was not good. Not good at all for our plan. So, for the first time, this girl that rarely takes even a spoonful of alcohol had to try out this new exquisite wine. Our plan was starting to fail. We were meant to live within thirty minutes of arrival. We were already an hour in just having fun.
Roland was playing his last game with a dude who wasn’t part of our crew. This guy finally beat him, and he called it a day. I heard that he usually plays in the presence of ladies who cheer him up before the last game of the day. In their absence, the guy loses.

I went back to our table. Lillian’s drink had changed colour from dark merlot red to almost colourless. She had devised an ingenious idea to add ice cubes to the wine. That way, it was easier for her to take and finish within our time. She said, “The wine is nice, but you know I can’t take much.” “It tastes better, though, with the ice cubes.”
A man’s voice on the side whispered in my ear. “Chairman, You saved me from an emergency earlier today. I haven’t forgotten.” As I turned to look at Nelson because I could identify him by his voice, five ice-cold Nile Special bottles landed miraculously on the table. I remember saying to myself..” Ayayayaaaai”

Roland joined us at the table, and we laughed at ourselves, but the most fun was that the escape plan was failing terribly. We had been boxed in, and it was all fun. The company with all of us there was good, and we didn’t regret a thing. We were happy.

The crowd was getting bigger and bigger. Some new female arrivals to Kweyo Village had started squeezing past where we sat, either intentionally or unintentionally. Some were well endowed with backsides that could not fit or squeeze through the remaining space next to where we were seated. Still, we sadly couldn’t adjust our seating arrangement anymore. I decided to donate my seat to them so they could stay where they were and not inconvenience us. Cunningly, I also gave away Roland’s seat.

This was the moment. The crowd had become a bit unhealthy for our liking. We had to escape. I was the first. I pretended I was on a phone call and vanished. Roland shamelessly followed me as well. I started the Land Rover immediately and reversed back to the main road. We had to wait for our friend.

“If only she can come out now and we leave, this will be the best timing for us,” Roland said, while wanting to burst into hearty laughter.

With the Land Rover idling like those buses in Namayiba bus park waiting to fill up, we waited for another five minutes.
There she was. Roland opened the door for her and closed it once she was in. He jumped in shotgun style, and we took off. Our plan had worked, but we didn’t really think our other crew members were going to stay at Kweyo for long. Our beautiful minds were ready to have a midnight chat at the hotel and sleep off.

We arrived at the hotel and decided that unless any of us wanted to sit out by the dining area, we would just head off to our rooms. We agreed to the latter in unison.

As we were getting ready to sleep, there was a knock on our door. We wondered who was bothering us at that hour of the night. The knock persisted. As I went to find out who it was, my roommate asked me to wait to open the door. He insisted that he would handle it. This gave me a few seconds to dash to the bathroom for a shower as he dealt with the unknown night visitor.

I opened the tap to let the water flow to make him believe I was taking a shower. For a moment, I was just at the door with my ear placed attentively on the door to decipher what was happening. The key clicked, and the squeaky door was opened.

I could immediately hear the disappointment in the voice. “Oh, come on, man, I thought it was someone else.”
“What is it now?” Roland cried.

Perhaps, he expected a visit from one of his Gulu friends. Maybe, a girl.

A low-pitched voice replied,” I just brought back the radio for charging.” It was Paul. His visit to our room meant that he and Mark were back at the hotel. As he faded into the low light, he added, “…But you guys disappeared on us.” Roland closed the door, and I continued with my bathroom activities.

While in my bed, a message came in from Nelson. “Are you guys back at the hotel?”.

“Yes,” I replied.

That was it until the morning of the next day.

We slept enough. We were up and ready by 10 am. We had our bags packed and ready for the journey back to Kampala. It was a sad thought but with nothing to do.

After a heavy breakfast, we checked out of Churchill hotel. First, we went to check on Nelson and Chris’ ancestors before we would finally head out of Gulu City.

It was from there that we continued to the Gulu to Kampala Highway.

Mark and Paul had left earlier, so they passed by the Ziwa Rhino Sanctuary.

Ziwa Rhino and Wildlife Ranch, located in Nakasongola district, is the home of the only wild rhinos in Uganda. The Rhino re-introduction project was a project of Rhino Fund Uganda and Uganda Wildlife Authority. The sanctuary is located 176km (100 miles) north of Kampala on the Gulu highway towards Murchison Falls (branch off at Nakitoma Trading centre).

Ziwa is the only place where you can see rhinos in the wild. Presently the sanctuary is home to thirty-two southern white rhinos.

Rhinos at the Ziwa Rhino Sanctuary

It was a chilled, relaxed drive with our first stopover at Kamdini junction, commonly referred to as “Corner Kamdini.” It’s normal for residents and locals to refer to every place with a significant road junction to another town in this area as “Corner Something.” So we have places like Corner Aboke, Corner Lolo, Corner Iceme, Corner Ayer and many others. The last names are names of towns where the road would lead you to.

Kamdini is renowned for its many oranges, always sold by the roadside by vendors who will rush to your car windows and nudge you to buy from them. Even after you’ve purchased, they will want you to buy more. It’s also the main junction to Lira town.

We continued towards Karuma, passing by the beautiful Karuma falls until we reached Karuma Travellers hotel, which was our lunch stop and had a break in our journey.

I highly recommend Karuma Travellers hotel. It’s neatly placed along the Gulu highway, and the environment is serene and neat. The accommodation is decent, and the staff is very welcoming. All food orders are freshly prepared, so you may have to wait for at least 30 to 45 minutes for a meal order, especially if you have travelled as a group. Nevertheless, the ambience is good. Again, this was the second place we arrived, and they told us they had run out of certain essential food items, e.g. potatoes, plantain, and a few others. They only had rice in the foodstuffs. At least they had lots of veggies, fish, chicken, and fish fillet.

There’s a Luganda language saying, “Okutambula kulya.” Which means that when you travel, you eat. It’s always good to try out different foods from different regions, even if they may be the same foods but prepared differently. For example, Boo (pronounced as bo) is a vegetable delicacy prepared from cowpea leaves by the Luo/Acholi in Northern Uganda but also by itesots in Eastern Uganda. In ateso, it’s eboo. Depending on where it’s prepared, fresh boo leaves can be mixed with a peanut butter-based sauce, groundnut sauce, okra, and, most interestingly, fried with eggs.

The vegetable is typically accompanied by sweet potatoes, usually referred to as acok or dried and preserved sweet potatoes, commonly referred to as amukeke in ateso. The vegetable can also be accompanied by Kalo (a mingle of millet or Sorghum flour mixed with cassava powder), posho (a mingle of cornflour), and Matoke among the Bantu.
The vegetable that serves as the main course is either prepared pasted with peanuts or without. When prepared without peanut paste, the vegetable is referred to as Ekita in Ateso and Dek Angalu in Luo. However, in Luo, any sauce that is not pasted or fried is called Dek Angalu.

So I will always try out a new type of food or style on a road trip like this if the chance arises.

Our lunch was ready, and we had relaxed enough. We continued on to Kampala. The next stopover was Kafu. I don’t know why but this place has something special about the cassava that grows in this area. It’s the best cassava you will ever eat on this planet. It can be eaten roasted, boiled or fried on its own or with various sauces.

After Kafu, we calmly drove on until Kampala. The road was clear except for one fool who almost hit our lead Land Rover through some idiotic manoeuvre while overtaking us in a corner. Other than that, we were happy chaps all the way.
Our adventure was coming to an end. We had travelled over 1000kms and had safely made it back without any issues. Turning off at Luteete, the junction to Kyanja, renowned for the roadside goat roasting (commonly referred to as “ku mbuzi”, which literally means “where they roast goat”), meant that we had all arrived. A few metres ahead, Nelson honked twice to tell us he had arrived and was turning off. I continued with my team up to their homes. Mark and Paul had already arrived.

The noisy taxis and seeing those conductors out of the windows looking for passengers meant we were in Kampala. Over time, I think, a taxi conductor gets a disease called “obsessive head out syndrome.” How else would you explain why, even when the taxi is full of passengers, the guys always move with their heads out? They must get high on something in the wind.

After he got his bags out of the Land Rover and was about to get into his home, Roland came to the driver’s side and looked at me with pale eyes. He asked me one mortifying question, “Do you still have some of that roasted cassava from Kafu?”