Be free

“Be free” Nestor commands with a carefree smile.

“Be free?” I question.

I swallow hard; the beads of sweat collecting on my forehead have started to stream down my face like the water below. Nestor, winces as I tighten my grasp on his hand, willing me to calm the tremors and keep moving.




I cautiously shuffle my feet another few inches. The adrenaline symphony running through my body is deafened by a loud crack. Scraping my leg as it passes, the splintered plank of wood breaks free from the confines of the rope. I peer under my arm just in time to see it disappear downstream, and take the time to quietly thank it for holding my weight merely seconds ago.

Like sitting in a beige office under halogen lights when the sun is shining, I found myself asking how did I end up here?

Bwindi Impenetrable National Park is a steep primeval forest that sits on the border of Uganda and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. While most people endure the bone jarring drive to this far flung corner of Western Uganda solely to trek the mountain gorillas, I wanted to immerse myself in the fabric of rural Uganda that few others get to see.

Earlier that morning, as the sun peaked through the mountains surrounding Nkuringo village we started our hike on a trail that is vital to the survival of the local people. Barefoot, the women put me to shame.
With sacks of tea precariously balancing on their head and children bouncing around on their back they powered up the steep incline. Reaching the southern boundary of the park is vital to their survival. The determination in their eyes was in stark contrast to the uncertainty in mine.

It was at this point in the journey, with squelching boots and the pungent smell of steaming mud that we were interrupted by “How are yoouuu?”. We scanned the huts dotted in the hills high above us and our eyes are drawn to the fanatical wave of a young boy. He appeared to be uncontrollably excited by our arrival in his backyard. I soon realised just how quickly news could spread as a chorus of little voices asking the same question echoed throughout the valley. After weaving deeper and deeper into the forest, the voices disappeared and we were left to contemplate the rhythmic sound of our own breathing.

Now, hanging perilously from this broken bridge I remember how I got here. Summoning my inner adventurer I close my eyes, ask the ropes to hold on for a few minutes more and scramble to the other side. I’m free.