In the foot prints of Christopher Columbus, as the African Immigrant.

I was born in 1979, or at least that's the year the people who gave birth to me told me. There's no record of my birth. I don't know the exact month and dates that I was actually born but when I started travelling, that's when the question started to surface--"When was your date of birth?" Officials would ask . I had no one to ask about my date of birth thus I choose the immediate date that crosses my mind at that very moment. That's how I chose 23 March. Even when I started the elementary school at Lulagala Primary School in 1987, there was no asking of age or dates of birth. That was a none issue by then.

What the authorities did was, to request you to rise your arm over your head, if the tips of your fingers torched the opposite side of your ear, then the school administration knew that you are ready for school. If your arms were for any reason, school administrators would apply some logic and human kindness in that person's favour.Disability protection was not in existence. There was no kindergartens. I started my elementary school in 1987. The Baganda ancient knowledge presumes that when a kid is able to touch the top of the opposite ear , after rising the arm overhead, then that kid is either seven or six years. I was seven years then.

In 1987,the Lord's Resistance Army started cropping up,few months just as the Ugandan civil war (1980-1986) came to an end a year after, my Granny introduced me to the elementary school, with a lot of doubt whether I would ever make it in life. There was no hope of my survival given the violations I endured at her and other household member’s hands.

On addition to the raging killer epidemics like malaria, whooping cough, tetanus, polio, and measles just to name the few. It's funny that these diseases are wiped out around the world decades ago but they still claim lives every day in Africa, even now as I write this. Thankfully, no one predetermines the fate of anyone. Initially, I had struggles with comprehension in classes and how lessons worked out. I had trouble reading. With time, and the help of my beautiful teachers, who never gave up on me, I started learning how to write and read two years since my enrolment. I was 9 years old.

Once I mastered these skills, I started spending time in the school tiny library reading all the children's books I could put my hands on. One day I landed on a book about Christopher Columbus and his dream of travelling the world. His story introduced me to America. I admired Columbus and since then, I immersed myself in discovering what America is all about. Once I read about rights,liberties,freedom,peace, I fall in love with it. I started dreaming about America and all the good things I read about it. I started envisioning the peace, freedom and liberties that would be with me once I land in America. My visions of a great life were infinitive and borderless. However, there was one challenge for this dream. I had no idea how to get to America. Once I figured out what it takes to get a passport and I got it. I thought that I was ready to conquer America but what I didn’t know was that coming to America needed much more than just a passport.

Nevertheless, I got my first passport in 2003 and in that very year, I attempted to apply for a visa to United States. It was denied because I didn't have social ties that will hold me to come back to Africa. This was the indirect way of telling me America doesn't welcome poor people, I tried twice.

Then in 2004,I tried three times. Then in 2005,I tried again one more time. And all these time, my applications were rejected because I was poor and had no travel history. It was crystal clear that US was no land for poor people but I never lost hope. In 2012, I revisited my dream of migrating to America. I had to go through all the rejected applications previously and they had a uniform pattern of telling why I was denied a visa. I had no travel history was one of their reasons

Other responses said on addition to travel history “You have also not provided evidence of any strong family and social ties to Uganda. I am therefore not satisfied that you are a genuine visitor or that you intend to leave the United States at the end of your proposed visit. In light of all of the above, I am not satisfied as to your intentions in wishing to travel to the US now". I have a million way of interpreting this response but let me save it for now.

I have a name in Uganda and a human rights campaigner. I wasn't needy,I managed to fight my way from destitution years back I was as normal as anyone else with dreams too. It was at this point that I made a decision to create a travel history starting with cheaper countries to visit.

I chose India first. In December 2013, I visited Gujarati India for the first time. It's one of the wealthiest provinces in that . I spoke to minority groups and toured the Arabian sea, I dined with Indians and saw so much more. I even visited the discriminated people in Jambu,where the locals refer to them as siddis--a very demeaning word. In 2015, 15 years after my first attempt, the US visa was granted. While many people in America denounce Columbus for his invisible yet yielding agenda, for me he represented freedom of thought and conscience and the desire to travel and know the unknown. In his foot prints, I am walking perhaps, but I won't drive anyone off land. I will be sharing my life with you here.