There was excitement, I was unsure what I was about to step into but I was rolling with it. Off we went to the ticket office to get our wristbands sorted.

It was chaos.

In the days that follow, I adjust to the heat and faces from the past visit the house from time to time. The ingredients for a meeting begin to gather and again I start to question Why am I here? Sarah and I had been talking the year before about this Festival that happens in Uganda, about how I had to go to get the full experience of Uganda. I had seen a Boiler Room DJ set from the festival and thought it looked cool but hadn’t given it anymore thought. Then Sarah messages. She shared a post from the festival organisers, they were looking for organisations to run their own events and activities at a selection of alternative venues in the city.

I woke abruptly at dawn; people were being called to prayer, the birds, the migration of bodies starting their day outside the glazeless windows. My body remained still, I was shooketh. My eye lids burst open and I looked around the room to desperately try to piece together where I was, and how had I gotten here. Go back to sleep. I wasn’t able or ready to process it all yet. A few hours later I stirred again. I check my phone and it’s now afternoon. I lay there letting my eyes move around the space I found myself in, my body and mind catching up with my reality - I was actually back in Uganda.

Arriving on the plane I was greeted by the gentleman seated behind me, leaning over to shake my hand before returning to introduce himself to his neighbour, as she took her seat. There was music playing, the type of music that conjures up images of safari. Bold patterned textiles on the seats. The cabin crew were dressed with class; their bodies adorned in gowns that spoke to the regal, the beautiful, the African people…