The past defines the heroes and the villains and that history evaluates us all,

When we look back from the relationships we have endured,

We are reminded that we are all different people,

In different circumstances,

And the defined elements of the past , present and future are only accessible

Through memory and history.

I was thirteen years old and I felt like I had been transformed into a timeless, classic fairytale. Alongside unforgettable characters were the kings and queens of the court seated with the emperor on his throne, hence Mr. Amin.

The president of Uganda Idi Amin was a key figure at the time although this was debatable. Mr. Amin came into power in 1971 until 1979. I’m not sure what the connection was between him and my father . I’m guessing through property.

The lunch was being held at The Hilton Hotel at Park Lane in London in Mr. Amin’s honour. Such splendor and stateliness and many dignitaries attended.

President Amin was a tall and powerfully built man at 6 ft 4” wearing a dark, green brown officers suit with an array of medals pinned to his jacket. Mr. Amin’s wife Kay Amin was seated half way down the table on the opposite side, her mind absorbed in trying to settle their three year old daughter. She was an attractive woman, softly spoken, and intelligent wearing a traditional gomesii and head attire and such exquisite shades of colour.

The channel of voices filtered throughout the vast room with the clinking of glasses , plates and silverware, with the slight barriers of communication here and there were heard added to that was the observation of different cultures and table manners.

As I observed Mr. Amin a little closer, I noticed there was a certain complexity about him and a sense of entitlement he felt entitled to. I was seated quarter of the way up next to my sister and my mother the other side near to where General Amin was seated, so I had a clear view. I then watched him as he would get up and leave the table in between meals leaving his guests either side of him wondering at his sudden mission!

I watched him as he paced with his hands behind his back and face fully to the ground with no eye contact. I would watch this man walk the entire length of the room and then back again, returning to his seat in a very subtle manner and would simply carry on from where he left off.

This was amusing to me and quite extraordinary. His rules of etiquette towards his guests intrigued me. Whether this was a deliberate performance on his part, I wasn’t sure.

After lunch at the Hilton we didn’t see Mr. and Mrs. Amin, and time passed until news reports stated that Idi Amin was being held in London and we were to look after Mrs. Amin for a while until things had resolved with her husband.

My parents knew very little of Kay Amin but welcomed her regardless. I was excited about our special guest coming to stay at our home. A number of days later Kay arrived with their three year old daughter in tow dressed in traditional attire resembling what she wore at The Hilton. Her handshake was firm and her smile was genuine. Her daughter was cute and slightly spoilt, and one could see that she was used to having servants around. Which I hasten to add at this point my mother was to nip that in the bud early!

I instantly took to Kay, I was curious and wanted to ask questions but there were limitations – one had to be discreet and respectful which I understood.

Kay stayed with us for several weeks while her husband was still detained until one particular day when I was getting ready to leave for school. I noticed Kay standing at the ironing board pressing some clothes. Kay is ironing I thought to myself? She stood with grace and always a smile and in her polite and dulcet tone she said “Have a good day at school Joanne!”

That was the last time I saw Kay. I arrived back home in the afternoon and asked where Kay was - I thought maybe she had gone to visit her husband, or was out on an appointment?

My mother replied that a man came to the door around 11 am to collect her and her daughter. As far as my Mother knew their daughter was taken to relatives. I immediately felt something was wrong and as young as I was then I had no right to ask questions – and given the circumstances back then, I just stayed quiet.

I stood for many days on and off in the emptiness of her room and it’s almost perfect vacuum - hoping for her return.

We never heard from Kay again. Many months and years passed. So much water under the bridge, so many words spoken and forgotten until many years later I read an article regarding Kay’s death in 1974. Her body had been found in the trunk of a car, her body dismembered.

Kay had arrived back in Uganda when this took place according to the authorities and as sick as I felt to my stomach reading this – I could only think of the Kay I remembered.

There were many hearts broken and emotions disabled including mine. For a woman with such courage , grace and optimism, she had the strength of mind to draw her own conclusions and like many of us made her own choices and decisions - but, she also paid a high price.

I didn’t read about Kay again until the film The Last King Of Scotland, the film making its debut in 2006. Based on a historical drama portraying the political life of General Idi Amin and his regime – although , well acted and good direction winning Academy and Bafta awards – it simply lacked the truth. The real truth behind the story is with Kay. Who now lays peacefully back in her birth place near Arua in the Northern region of Uganda.

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AFTER  THOUGHTS

Through broken clouds

I listen to the songs being sung

Soft September

Though shadows embrace across my floor

The agony of being alone

Fill and colour my eyes

For life is a dream

And I have been in love for so long.

©J.J.James.
Taken from In The Shadow Of Wings, Collective Poetry.

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