It was a bright but somber day in Jinja Town, Uganda, as we gathered for my father’s funeral. I, John Mbanda, stood in the middle of a crowd of relatives, friends, and neighbours, all mourning the loss of the man who had raised me.
My heart was heavy, not only with the grief of losing my father but with the uneasy feeling that something wasn’t right.
As we stood near my father’s grave, a strange woman... Continue Reading