Africa is Calling Us
Words could never capture how special the African continent is to me. Whether it’s the air or the water, no one truly knows, but each time I go there, something happens; my blood begins to boil, and my heart beats like a tribal drum. These lands, feared by some, have an irresistible spell over me—wild and purely beautiful.
We had taken a break from our relationship for a while, but now the time has come. Africa is calling us with the sound of drums. And we say: All right, wait for us, we’re coming!
In the Depths of Bwindi
Uganda… They say it’s the Pearl of Africa. Why is it so special? I would like to see it with my own eyes.
We set off from Entebbe Airport; our destination is Bwindi Impenetrable National Park. Even the name feels magical. Our mission is clear: to see the gorillas. After all, we’ve watched “Gorillas in the Mist”—that spark has already been lit. But there are truths the films never show: can those roads make you pass a kidney stone? Absolutely. Could a forest elephant suddenly emerge from the jungle at night and attack? Of course—why not? Yet, we still continue with excitement and chatter. My eyes wander to the roadside, where gas lamps flicker in one-room and two-room huts. Later, my research reveals that this region is one of the most remote and least developed parts of Uganda.
At 7 a.m., we enter the depths of Bwindi. The gorillas here are very precious—only about 1,000 remain in the world. Each family is closely monitored, and visits are strictly limited. We meet Okushemererwa, the silverback (**) of one of Bwindi Park’s four families—the proud leader of the Happy family.
Okushemererwa—the proud leader of the Happy family
The gorillas in Bwindi have grown used to humans over more than two years. This bond of trust is fragile and very valuable. That’s why we were often told to make a low, throaty “u-uuh” sound—a shared signal meaning: “We’re just visitors here.”
They’re not as aggressive as we might think; in fact, they’re cautious around humans. If you get too close, they’ll either move away or defend themselves. We learned this firsthand. A woman in our group, unable to hide her excitement, let out a high, sharp scream in that strong American accent: “AOUW BABY!” First the mother, then Okushemererwa, ran towards us, pounding his chest to protect his baby—giving us all a small scale heart attack.
Young member of Happy Family
As we watch the Happy family in a hypnotised manner, the rangers with machetes standing beside us signal that our time is up. Not knowing when this encounter will ever happen again, I leave a piece of my heart in Bwindi’s impenetrable—yet Burcu-penetrable—forests.
An Unexpected Encounter on the Road
On the way back, our vehicle got stuck in the mud. While Başak and I started eating our lunch, Hamza and Deneson stepped out to fix the problem. Just then, children aged between 1 and 12 appeared around us. They looked on with curious eyes, smiling and waving. I popped a bite into my mouth right in front of their eyes.
The thought that there might be hungry children standing right beside me was so foreign, so unfamiliar.
Then something nudged me, and I gestured to ask if they wanted some. They nodded shyly. I thought, “I wish I’d asked earlier; I wish I hadn’t eaten those bites in front of them…”It hit me like a wave of guilt and sadness.
We gave them everything we had. That day, I finally understood the value of those tins of tuna Başak insists on packing—despite my constant protests of “What’s the point?” It turns out an 80-gram tin can feed up to three children. It turns out those children, even in hunger, can share without glancing at each other’s portions or saying, “Yours is bigger than mine.” It turns out there’s a world of lessons we desperately need to learn.
Children from Murushasha Community – Nursery for the Needy and Orphans
Apparently, there’s an orphanage nearby; these little ones came from there. It’s clear this isn’t a usual stopping point for cars, but when they spotted two muzungus, curiosity won them over.
Once again, I stay silent—I simply gather moments. There’s still a road ahead, yet I leave another piece of my heart behind.
Queen Elizabeth National Park and Tree Climbing Lions
Our next stop is Queen Elizabeth National Park (***). One of the things we most want to see in Uganda is the tree climbing lions. This fascinating behaviour is found in only a few places in the world: the Ishasha Sector of Queen Elizabeth National Park, Botswana, and Lake Manyara in Tanzania.
Genetically, they’re no different from other African lions—but as we say in Turkish, geography is destiny. This region is known for its 28-degree temperature and the tsetse flies that spread sleeping sickness. And after all, a lion is still a cat; it loves heights, where it can survey the land, spot prey, and sense danger with ease. Over time, this behaviour became second nature, passed down as cubs mimicked the adults.
Still, hauling a 200-kilo body up a tree is no small feat—they need strong, comfortable branches. Luckily, the trees here—acacias, figs, and euphorbias (a cactus-like species)—with their low, horizontal limbs and sturdy trunks, provide the perfect perch.
Lions on the Fig Tree
As I watched the lions, my eyes fell on Başak; her eyes were sparkling. If someone asked me to draw “the picture of happiness”, this is exactly how I would draw Başak.
In the Shadow of Exile
We started the next day in Queen Elizabeth Park. We saw all sorts of antelopes around. If you asked me, I’d call them all deer; I’ve mastered the art of eating antlers, but when it comes to their owners, I’m utterly lost 🙂 At that point, I felt the urge to do a quick bit of research. Turns out I’m not the only one who confuses these two species. They may look similar, but they belong to completely different families. Deer are from the Cervidae family and shed their antlers every year; antelopes, on the other hand, belong to the Bovidae family and keep the same horns for life. What’s more, antelopes are bigger and faster than deer. And I solved the dilemma once and for all: all of these are antelopes, because there are no native deer species in Africa.
And then there’s our “loser.” According to Hamza, one of the most dangerous animals in Uganda is the solitary male buffalo—also known as the African buffalo—that’s been cast out from the herd. It has nothing to lose, but no herd to rely on either. This loneliness makes them more aggressive towards both humans and other animals. That’s why they’re on the “Big Five” list. This guy got startled as we approached and quickly pulled himself together. Our hearts sank; we moved away without disturbing him further, but those eyes in that final glance stayed with us…
African Buffalo: In the Shadow of Exile
Kyambura Gorge and the Chimpanzees
In the middle of the savannah, my mind was buzzing with questions: “Where on earth are we going to find chimpanzees?” Then, out of nowhere, a deep gorge appeared before us. Later I learned its name—Kyambura Gorge. A valley plunging 100 metres down, filled with lush green forest. The Kyambura River snakes through it, creating a legendary habitat for chimpanzees.
I wish I could show you through my own lens, but sadly, I couldn’t get a drone permit.
Just as we were about to start trekking down into the gorge, strange sounds echoed from below. Our guide said, “Let’s wait a moment.” Turns out, we’d stumbled upon hippos enjoying their bath time! Once the voices stopped, we walked down along the odd trail they’d carved with their butts. Lucky for us, we avoided a close encounter in that tight space—hippos may look adorable, but they’re anything but harmless. Most of their volume isn’t fat, it’s muscle, and they’re among the deadliest animals in Africa (****).
Hippos on high alert
As tempting as it was to stay and watch their bath-time antics, we had a mission—to find the chimpanzees. So we walked deeper into the forest, and at last, there it was: our first glimpse of a chimp. That’s when our guide began unveiling the secrets of their fascinating world.
Chimpanzees live far more fairly and democratically than we humans do. Their leader—the alpha male—gets most of their support (around 70%) from females. Leadership here isn’t about strength; it’s about character. No “strongest, oldest, most muscular” criteria. When an alpha ages, they step down peacefully and if they don’t, families unite and remove them by force—but that’s rare. Unlike humans, they’re not obsessed with clinging to power. The one standing before us, Mweya, leads eight families. There’s a regal calm in his gaze, a presence that sets him apart from the others.
Mweya: The leader of eight families
There’s also the Alpha Female…
A figure who helps during births, maintains order, and safeguards the continuity of life. While the males are out hunting, it’s her role to choose the right male to stay protecting the females and their young.
And then there’s the grooming ritual…
It looks like a simple act, but for chimpanzees, it’s a cornerstone of life. Even after a fight, as their fingertips comb through fur, hearts are mended. This ritual is gossip and diplomacy; hygiene and affection all rolled into one. It’s impossible not to be moved…
The little one in the herd
Then comes Saba Florida—yes, we laughed at this a lot—a hidden delight of nature!
A tiny fruit with a big impact. After eating it, they get a little tipsy… and that’s when the dancing begins! Their laughter fills the gorge, but excess has consequences: the elders step in to restore order. Turns out, even in nature, there’s measure, respect, and balance.
Watching these scenes, a question crossed my mind: Is evolution going backwards? Before my eyes, it felt like a trailer for Planet of the Apes was playing… And yet, we were leaving Paradise of the Apes, again leaving a piece of our hearts behind as we headed towards the village.
Village Life and Coffee
I wanted to wander through the village and mingle with the locals. Başak wasn’t keen on people, so didn’t join me. Guided by a hotel staff member arranged by Hamza, I set off.
We were going to visit a family that grows vanilla and cocoa. Passing through fruit gardens, I met students of different ages. Their curious eyes sparked conversations; their English was surprisingly good. I asked questions, peeked into their notebooks. Just as I was getting carried away, my guide reminded me: “The cocoa family is waiting for you.”
The family had prepared for my visit. Their eldest daughter shared fascinating facts about vanilla: it’s actually a climbing orchid! The flowers are pollinated by hand, and the pods take 8–9 months to ripen. This painstaking process makes vanilla one of the most expensive spices in the world.
1. Vanilla | 2. Nice – The cheerful mother of the cocoa family. | 3. Cocoa fruit
Then we stepped into the cocoa garden.
There were varieties from Mali, Ghana, Ivory Coast, and Uganda. It takes at least three years before the plant flowers, and once the fruit forms, it stays on the branch for three months. I tasted fresh cocoa for the first time—and it was absolutely delicious.
Uganda is truly an agricultural country. A large part of the population makes a living from farming; but there’s one product here that holds a special place both culturally and economically: coffee.
Coffee Tree
Coffee production is carried out by small family-run farms, and it demands serious effort.
Harvesting, drying, processing… every step requires patience. Coffee gardens are a long-term investment; once planted, they remain in the same spot for years.
During my travels in Uganda, one image kept catching my eye: clothes and coffee beans laid out under the sun along the roadside. Most of those beans were Robusta, grown on the flatlands. Robusta stands out for its large beans, high caffeine content, and impressive resilience. Uganda is one of its original homelands—here, it’s a way of life. Arabica is grown too, but in smaller quantities, thriving in the country’s mountainous regions.
Lights of Kazinga Orphanage
I bought my coffee from the Lights of Kazinga orphanage. They source beans from local family farms and process them themselves, providing income for the orphanage. Meeting such warm-hearted people through Shamia was a gift—and I return to the hotel with a smile that won’t fade.
The Pearl of Africa
Uganda truly deserves its title as the Pearl of Africa. Its people are warm, curious, and wonderfully hospitable. The word “Muzungu” here carries no negative meaning; on the contrary, it’s a term of affection for foreigners. Don’t be surprised if, while walking down the road, you hear a cheerful “Muzungu!” and find little ones running up to hug you. Chances are, they’ll excitedly tell their families about the encounter that evening.
Little ones running towards me, shouting ‘Muzungu!’”
This country, where tourism hasn’t yet become industrialised and genuine warmth still thrives, has carved out a special place in my heart.
Echoes on the Road Back: Hamza’s Voice
On the road back, the silence I had carried began to overflow—questions unsaid, thoughts unspoken, all tumbling out like a river breaking its banks. Hamza was there to catch them. He’d already noticed how emotional I’d been at times during the trip, and now, in a warm and candid tone, he shared some truths.
“You,” he said, “might think that with your technology and resources, you’re happier than the people here. But that’s not the whole story.”
Then he told me about his childhood. His parents would stuff a sack with grass to make a pillow. “Those days in that little hut,” he said, “I would trade them for nothing.”
He opened another door: a father with many wives, nearly twenty siblings. “I chose not to be a cog in the wheel,” he said, “I chose to contribute to it.”
Hamza excelled at school, earned a scholarship, and studied computer engineering. But his heart was elsewhere: “I always knew I wouldn’t be a computer engineer. Tourism is what I truly enjoy.”
Hamza ve Deneson… Başak ile aramızdaki Hamza.
He joined a tourism company, but the awareness he gained through education never faded.
“From a very young age, I learnt the true importance of education. That experience shaped who I am today and why I believe so strongly in helping children learn. Education isn’t just about knowledge—it’s about opening doors, creating opportunities, and building a brighter future for every child.”
Today, Hamza works closely with an orphanage, reaching out to travellers like us:
“It doesn’t take much,” he said. “With just a $10 contribution, you can cover a child’s stationery costs for an entire year.”
That single sentence swept away all the dust of the road, clearing a path for hope. And this is why I write these lines: to turn this post into a voice for Hamza and the children he champions—so their story can travel far beyond this journey and echo where it matters most.
Let’s Be the Hope They Need
I truly believe we can make a difference. Sometimes, changing the world is as simple as filling a sack—not with grass, but with hope. One small step from us can transform a child’s future.
So, what do you say? Shall we bring hope together?
Hamza, with his big heart, and Shamia, equally full of compassion, have founded an incredible organisation dedicated to helping children. Below are the links where you can join this mission:
- To donate: https://store.pesapal.com/lightsofkazinga
- To sponsor a child: https://lightsofkazingaorphanage.com/sponsor-a-child/
- For accommodation: https://lightsofkazingaorphanage.com/
- To travel to Uganda: gorillasinparadisesafaris.com
Together, we can turn hope into reality. Every contribution matters. Every act of kindness counts.
(*) Mzungu – A word used in East Africa to describe white people. In Swahili, it literally means “someone who wanders aimlessly” or “a person who spins around”. This name was given to European explorers who appeared confused and lost when they first arrived. Some things never change, even after all these years. 🙂
(**) Silverback – An adult male gorilla recognised by the silver-coloured hair on its back. As the leader of the group, it takes on the role of protector and guide, and they are usually males over 12 years old.
(***) In 1954, this name was given in honour of Queen Elizabeth II’s visit to Uganda. As you might recall from The Crown…
(****) If you encounter a hippopotamus, the chance of dying is 86.7%, compared to 75% for lions and 25% for sharks.