Review: My Ugandan Hill by C.H. Colman

C.H. Colman has written a heartwarming memoir in My Ugandan Hill, providing middle-grade readers with a glimpse into the author’s unique early childhood growing up in Uganda.

Colman left Britain with his parents at the age of two, spending his early to middle years in the British Protectorate of Uganda during the twilight of British Imperial rule. His father, a former air force pilot, was a teacher who got a job at the British college in Uganda. His mother, also a teacher, opted to stay at home and devote her time to raising the author with the help of Mary and later, Nyesi, two nursemaids – or ayahs, as they were called.

To some extent, Colman had a privileged childhood, with the needs of his family met by various servants that included a gardener, a houseboy, and a cook/housekeeper. However, as the author quickly points out, life in Uganda wasn’t without its perils. Deadly mamba snakes or “musotas” hid in the tall grasses, and massive pythons blocked roadways while ticks carried disease and earthquakes happened regularly. Like most children of the fifties, the author and his three friends, Clare, Jonti and Chris, rode their bikes, played innocent games and got into all kinds of mischief, especially during the garden parties hosted by Colman’s parents.

My Ugandan Hill is a memoir clearly written from a place very dear to the author’s heart. Colman shares some intimate photographs from his childhood, including one of his school, which make wonderful visual aids to accompany his vivid descriptions of the local terrain, the wildlife and the foreign world around him. In the back of the book, the author provides some insightful information on Uganda’s history, geography, and culture, as well as some information on traveling by plane in the day. It’s a memoir and a lesson on Uganda all rolled into one, supported by photographs that reference another time in a far-off place that will be foreign to most.

What makes Colman’s memoir especially interesting is that although it’s told from the perspective of a child, he doesn’t do it through rose-colored lenses. Far from it, in fact: their gardener stole from Colman’s nursemaid and was sent to jail while another servant was thrown in jail for allegedly walking around without a lantern after curfew. After complaining to a British officer, his mother was told to keep quiet if she wanted her servant to stay alive. Later, rioting between the Ugandans and the police presented an imminent danger to the well-being of their family, and ultimately provided the impetus for them to leave Uganda. All told, the book gives a vivid and uncompromising portrait of Colman’s exotic childhood.

However, the book overall has some structural issues, where chapters leave off and new ones begin without a true sense of continuity. The first three chapters are devoted to the author’s plane travels and the constant refueling required to travel from Britain to Africa, which is indicative of a tenor overall where some minute details are included, which may be more of an interest to the author than the casual reader, especially the age range of 7-10.

That said, My Ugandan Hill is sure to appeal to children with an adventurous spirit, and help inspire an interest in other cultures.