Monday, December 23, 2013
It is 11am on a chilly Tuesday. Jennifer Ahimbisibwe exhibits the unusual excitement at her kiosk in Naguru police barracks.
She makes frantic movements, serving
customers with a big smile. The neighbours are confused too. Could it be
that she has a visitor? Or expecting one at that moment?
Well, the day before, November 11, her policeman-husband who had spent six months in Somalia had returned home. The past months had been ruthless – not even a phone call from him, let alone a letter.
“I have been in darkness,” she says.
Well, the happiness was not mistaken.
“My husband’s return from Somalia after
six months deserves a celebration with my children because things are
not easy in Somalia,” a thrilled Ahimbisibwe says.
As we continue talking, she suddenly
frowns and I realise that perhaps I have asked the wrong question. I had
asked whether the husband would be staying for Christmas.
She sorrowfully answers that he is leaving on November 13. Just two
days at home, after being away for six months. With a frown on her face,
she starts peeling bananas to prepare lunch for her four children who
are still at school.
At 35 years, she looks remarkably
younger. She is wretched at the thought of her husband leaving after one
day; back to the war zone. However, she consoles herself: “The merciful
God will protect him and [bring him] back alive next year.” She can’t
tell the exact month.
Fast-forward to December. As other families brace for big reunions with their loved ones,
Ahimbisibwe is celebrating Christmas this year without her beloved
husband but with her four children in the barracks where she stays. This
has never happened before.
Ahimbisibwe had plans of travelling to her Butaleja village as a family, but due to the hefty transport costs
and the fact that her husband did not leave behind the money – not even
enough for a new dress – the hype for the season is less for
Ahimbisibwe and her children. They are looking forward to going to
church and enjoying their simple meal before later relaxing at home with
the neighbours.
“My husband is my Christmas; if he
is not around this time, it is obvious that this will be the worst day
for me,” she says. “I have to be strong because he is out there looking
for money so that we earn a living.”
Ahimbisibwe adds that unlike her friends
with husbands in Somalia who will ‘starve’ at Christmas, at least hers
left some money to budget for the day, even if it is not enough. She has
to top up the money so that her children don’t miss their father. In
addition to the big chicken she has set aside for her lonely Christmas, there are kilogrammes of meat and sodas to bring some cheer.
Last Christmas her husband was home and
Ahimbisibwe can never forget the joy the family had. All four children
were given money by their father to go to the beach and the couple
stayed home for their quiet moments.
“For the years we have celebrated
Christmas with my husband, we sit in our house after lunch, discuss our
childhood days and other funny things as we wait for our children to return home before 9pm,” she reminisces.
Ahimbisibwe is planning to get some
money for her children to enjoy in an exciting place around town and
take photos to show their father when he returns. This time she will
stay in the barracks alone, resting, since the kiosk will be closed. She
plans to use the time to think about her husband whom she treasures a
lot and considers him her best Christmas gift ever.