It’s 9:57 in the evening, and my host family and I are sat around a plastic-sheathed dining room table, heads bent in prayer. Normally, dinner is eaten silently in front of the ten o’clock news and, now I've become desensitised to the almost daily reports of corruption, police brutality and electioneering propaganda, I usually disengage and use the time to plan out the following day in my mind. But not tonight. As I serve myself rice, the newscaster mutters something disinterestedly about Mbabazi running as an independent candidate in the 2016 election. Halfway through spooning more lumpy lilac groundnut sauce onto my plate, I am listening to the Premier League Arsenal vs Liverpool results. By the time I am struggling to clear my bowl armed with only a flimsy metal fork, the national news is wrapping up and I am suddenly plunged, ice bucket challenge style, into the jumble shop mind of the upcountry Ugandan villager. Welcome to the local news segment. Everything you hear is 100% verifiable drivel.   

“A woman in Western Uganda has given birth to a ten-foot snake; over to Katureebe to tell us more.” “In other news, a primary school in Rwenzori has today been confirmed as being haunted, and its girls possessed by evil spirits; this report may contain scenes that the viewer may find distressing.” “Mermaids have been spotted today in Lake Victoria, the first sighting this year. Let’s hear from Paul who was lucky enough to spot the lovely creatures – Paul, please tell us more!”  

I’m sorry, what? Please just repeat…go back to the part where…I mean…all of it…what just happened?

“Oh” I laugh awkwardly, “Is this the funny news section?” My host mother narrows her eyes in confusion. “You know, is this the part of the news where they tell us some of the crazier unbelievable stories? Like people say the funniest things?”

“No.”

“So…that woman actually gave birth to a snake?”

“Yes.”

“Right. That’s impossible, though.”

“In Uganda, some women are chosen to bear their tribal totem. It’s a blessing. Or she’s a witch.” She pauses to swallow her mouthful. “My tribal totem is a cat-fish.” 

Someone please hit stop and rewind on this conversation. Say what?  

In Uganda, a university-educated woman with an MBA – the daughter of the country’s Permanent Secretary, no less – honestly believes that a villager physically gave birth to what looks terrifyingly like an anaconda. The news report showed an old lady (too old to even bear a human child) cradling the enormous black writhing creature’s head as the correspondent stands seriously to the side, microphone in hand. In the next frame, the reporter interviews an even more ancient tribal elder saying that the lady had wanted a child all her life, and implored us, the viewer, to witness how prayer and nature had provided a miracle. No, nature has screwed with the old lady’s grey matter and made her completely lose the plot. I bet the snake eats her and the village interprets it as some kind of Oedipal omen.  

The next story was, as the anchor pointed out, actually very disturbing. Images showed dozens of screaming, weeping, and violently spasming 10-year-old girls being dragged outside the school doors by armed policemen and male teachers, who would then kneel on their chests, pin their arms, and begin to perform amateur exorcisms under the wandering eyes of the local priest. When he wasn’t too busy being interviewed by NTV metres away from the gasping children, that is. Presumably, they had already ruled out asbestos or any other inhalable substance that could induce seizures or breathing problems because that would be ridiculous. I mean, the only reasonable explanation is demons. Plus, you get to beat up some under-age girls – bonus.  

Only in Uganda. I cannot hang my underwear outside to dry, not because it would be unseemly, but because it will be hexed by a stranger who inexplicably wants me never to bear children (there’s a lot of superstition around pregnancy and ladies’, uh, inner workings). I can be cursed by a one-eyed dog – couldn’t get anything more specific about that one, I’m afraid. Witches, mermaids and vampires all exist. The Bermuda triangle is an indisputable fact, and the Illuminati – when it isn’t turning famous popular musicians into devil-worshippers – is actually a society for homosexuals to access funding to buy other men, forcing them to also become gay.  

Let’s skip the fact that in the last two days Uganda has made it illegal for same-sex couples from outside countries to adopt its orphaned children – of which, thanks to HIV and AIDS, there are many. I guess we’ve already processed the reality that homosexuality carries a life-sentence, which was only reduced from the death penalty after pressure from Western aid-donors. Through conversation, I have come across two broad categories of person: people worth speaking to, and idiots.  

The ‘people worth speaking to’ are not exactly pro-LGBT+, but they at least recognise that these are not chosen lifestyles of a perverse, wealthy minority. Their perspective is that, regardless of whatever their personal or religious feelings are towards homosexuals, there is little sense in policing the un-policeable. Passing the law was a waste of parliamentary time (the same way many people here feel about the fox-hunting ban) when the country faces a barrage of real problems that affect the majority of voters. It is an invasion of personal liberty, and symptomatic of a dictatorial regime legitimising its creep into the bedroom of its citizens.  

During postprandial drinks at my boss’ home, I easily and enjoyably debated these issues with his friends. They raised flawed but insightful points based on the finer points of civil liberties, and questioned the validity of Western pressure on developing, aid-dependent countries. Their curiosity was refreshingly unexpected, and we continued talking over each other late into the evening. More difficult were my Ugandan friends’ views. While watching Keeping Up With The Kardashians, my home counterpart told me that Caitlyn Jenner was proof that “there is too much freedom in your country”. I had no words. Similarly, I couldn’t even deflect the curveball thrown by my work counterpart: apparently, he said shrugging, you can only become gay if you’re recruited and “turned” by Freemasons. I was so stunned that I let that metaphorical baseball smash me squarely in the face. This is genuinely the same reason given by the parliament as to why same-sex couples can’t adopt (I watched the debate live): they will either recruit these children into the evil sect of GAY, sell their vital organs on the black market, or, better yet, give them up in human sacrifice.  

Oh, didn’t I mention that before? Yeah, Uganda has a real problem with child abduction.