A little planning goes a long way

If there is a city that is less pedestrian friendly than Kigali I’m yet to find it. Maybe it’s because I am the daughter of not one, but two, town planners that I pay attention to such things, but I’m pretty sure that any visitor to the capital of Rwanda would find the situation a little frustrating.

Firstly, in large swathes of the city the roads only have a pavement on one side. This would perhaps be more acceptable if it was easy to cross the road. However crossing the road in Kigali is like taking your own life in your hands. There are some zebra crossings but they are not observed in the typical way, i.e. no one stops at them to allow you to cross. It’s only once you’ve started the death defying journey that cars, motorbikes and mini buses even consider slowing down for you. Then it’s only really a token effort and dawdling can in no way be encouraged.

Even in shopping centres, surely the prime place for pedestrians, there’s no real thought for those walking. Leaving involves either sidling around or limboing under barriers whilst rich Rwandans rev their engines impatiently with their scowls carefully hidden behind mirrored sunglasses.

One of the most ridiculous things I saw, unless of course I was faced with modern art and failed to recognise it (always a possibility), was a stairway that was near impossible to climb. It wasn’t that it was painted onto the side of a wall or the steps were too high. No, it was a normal staircase that led up to a door in the side of building but in front of the steps was a locked gate that without a lot of effort clambering over it, the steps were simply not surmountable.

However, for me, the prime example of poor planning in Kigali is the roundabout at Place de l’Unite Nationale. They have built a rather nice area in the centre of this large roundabout with nicely kept lawns (who knows who is risking life and limb for that job, but surely they must be getting paid danger money), gravel paths, benches, there may even be a fountain. However, there are two immediate problems with the roundabout. Firstly I can’t be the only one who fails to see the appeal of sitting in the middle of a heavily congested road, breathing in exhaust fumes and having my ears assaulted by the blaring of horns. If however, I was the kind of person who found all that enjoyable, I still face a challenge: reaching the roundabout. To reach it you’d have to cross three lanes of traffic with no pedestrian crossing to assist you.

I can only hope that as Kigali continues to spread itself amongst Rwanda’s ‘thousand hills’ that they invest in a decent town planner. That, or at least someone with a modicum of sense!

Fountain-check, trimmed grass-check, shit loads of traffic-check

Pressing issues

Sometimes I am genuinely shocked by what I see in the newspapers here in Uganda. Yes, by all means report the facts but there are ways and means. Like in most countries the quality of journalism relies heavily on which paper you chose to read but even in the most ‘journalistic’ of papers, the facts are often depicted in an unnecessarily blunt or brutal way, or in an oddly casual manner even when dealing with particularly sensitive subjects.

At the lower end of the journalistic scale slang terms are used in such abandon that a) it can be nigh on impossible to read the article without a colloquial dictionary at hand and b) even matters that are actually rather serious are made to appear comical.  A prime example of this was the case of former NSSF boss David Chandi Jamwa. As the article shows, Jamwa was being raped in prison and yet the paper just makes a joke out of the whole situation. This is even more baffling considering that homosexuality is actually a crime here and the ‘Pepper has previously ‘revealed’ known homosexuals.

Whilst articles are dubious it’s the pictures that I find most shocking. Whereas in the British press, if a child was murdered there would most likely be  a picture of said child in happier times, smiling, healthy. Not so in Uganda where no holds are bared. After the July bombings in Kampala the papers were filled with pictures of decapitated bodies, people slumped in their chairs, scenes ravaged by the bombs. The most harrowing picture was probably a before and after shot of a young girl in her early 20s. The first picture depicted a smiling, vivacious young woman. The second, a blood soaked body with essentially pulp where her head should have been. I won’t put this images here, firstly I don’t have the copyright and secondly I wouldn’t want to inflict them upon you.

Another prime example of Ugandan journalism

I can only imagine what her family and friends must have felt at seeing such pictures splashed across the national papers. In another article about a toddler who had been kidnapped by a witch doctor and subsequently had his penis removed before being rescued, they papers printed a picture of the boy post ‘surgery’. In years to come that boy will have enough to deal with, without the knowledge that his picture appeared in the papers when he was at his most vulnerable. I don’t agree with censorship in the press, but I think there should be some kind of boundaries when it comes to harrowing images. The stories themselves should be able to paint a clear enough picture without resorting to such explicit photographs.

Picking the perfect pineapple

When surviving almost solely on carbohydrates it is essential that one takes steps to prevent scurvy. The best way to do this, in my non-medical opinion, is via good old fruit and veg. A delicious tomato and avocado sandwich here, some spaghetti with vegetable sauce there and of course a pineapple party wherever and whenever the mood suits.

slightly over-ripe but nonetheless spreading joy

I adore pineapple, despite a nasty incident once when I ate half a one during my lunch break in work and it was so acidic that I managed to burn my lips and tongue. I can only imagine what it did to my insides… in fact I’d rather not think about it. Anyway several chapstick applications later I was fine, but that rogue pineapple had got me to thinking: one must pick their pineapple with care. There are a couple of things to consider when picking a pineapple and I’m going to take you through them (‘cause I’m nice like that).

1. Colour. The ideal colour for a juicy, sweet pineapple with a bit of a tang is light green. If you pick one that is already yellowey-orange you will find that it is super sweet, to the point of being slightly sickly and certain parts will taste slightly like nail varnish smells. Too dark a green and it will be super sharp and the texture quite firm, the flesh more white than yellow. Of course where on the light green spectrum you want your pineapple is a case of personal preference

2. Resonance. Now this is a tricky one to explain. It involves holding the pineapple near your ear and tapping it so try to ascertain how ripe and juicy it is. However, it’s more of a trial and error situation than an exact science. You also may look a little crazy walking around your local supermarket picking up pineapples and placing them next to your ear. Start talking to yourself at the same time and the men in white coats might start arriving.

3. Leaf pluckability.If you want to avoid looking like a crazy person one of the tip top methods for looking sane but testing for ripeness is how easily the leaves can be pulled. Despite looking a bit like Heather Small’s hairdo in the late 90s fret not, pulling the pineapple’s leaves won’t hurt it, unlike if you had yanked Heather’s tresses. Instead it will let you know if the pineapple is ripe, the easier it is to remove the leave the readier the pineapple is to eat.

So there, armed with some useful tips go into the world and throw your very own pineapple party (and if these tips weren’t at all useful you can always buy the tinned variety!).