This novel has some fantastic characters. They represent a range of social classes and Ugandan historical periods, but they are all family, living with the lasting aftershocks of their ancestor’s mistakes. The resolution relies on traditional practices, but these are modern people. And in the context of tribes that have been around for centuries and relatively short lifespans (the country’s current life expectancy is 63.37 years, up from 50.44 in 2004), they have a different experience of their history than we have of it. That’s something we forget all the time as Americans. Our news covers that “basket case” aspects of African nations, of the dictatorship of Idi Amin and the genocide in neighboring Rwanda, while the people living through this have a different context for it all.
When I was doing my exploration of Africa through cultural works, I tried to avoid white savior narratives and books written for the English or American market, although they were really hard to avoid. Kintu was written by an accomplished Ugandan novelist (although she lives in England now) and initially published in Kenya, which borders Uganda. As a result, this book feels more true. It wasn’t written for me, but I like that better.
