Wizardry & Witchcraft in Uganda
Apparently J.K. Rowling recently decided/declared that there’s a school of witchcraft and wizardry in Africa! I love Harry Potter. I was an obsessed fan when I was younger…several girlfriends and I attended an all-night party at a Barnes&Noble our senior year of high school to get a copy of the 4th book, Harry Potter & the Goblet of Fire. Pretty sure I wore a Harry Potter pillowcase as a cape. Because my mom let me leave the house wearing whatever I wanted. #parentingwin
Rowling first announced that there was a school of wizardry, in Africa, which was criticized because, remember now, Africa is not a country. She responded that Uagadou (the name of the school) is in Uganda. UGANDA!
Living in Uganda as I am, I decided to go to the source, and ask some real live Ugandans(!) about their thoughts on this. I asked some of my coworkers if they believed in wizards. (NB: these are educated women who have heard of Harry Potter before today, though I didn’t mention HP until I was finished with my line of questioning. These women also believe in women’s equality…I’m pointing this out to illustrate that my sample isn’t very representative of typical Ugandans.)
“More than 90% of me thinks they are imaginary, though I hate to say it out loud because I think they might want to show me how they are still there.” — Nabukenya*
“They tend to be there traditionally, spiritually, they talk to the gods, [the gods] give them the information, what is to come. According to the tradition we know they are there, traditionally. But spiritually, biblically, they are not there.”-Nakandi*
These comments actually illustrate a seemingly inconsistent juxtaposition of local/traditional and organized religious beliefs. People are able to simultaneously hold apparently conflicting beliefs. Like earlier in my stay here when medical professionals (e.g. trained nurses), were explaining to me that traditional healing (say, rubbing some herbs on a broken limb) actually works (they’d seen it). Or when they were telling me about “night dancers”, vampiric characters who eat humans and can control the weather. If you ever see one specific spot where it doesn’t rain, you know a night dancer lives there.
These things may sound ridiculous to an outsider, but I suppose from the outside looking in, an American’s blind faith in invisible things like “futures trading”, “the internet”, “free and fair elections”, and “the female orgasm” might seem equally as ridiculous to a typical Ugandan.
I asked my coworkers what they would think if the only school of wizardry in all of Africa was in Uganda. Malungi* had this to say:
“I would assume the only school would be somewhere in west Africa. And if it’s proved right that the only school is in Uganda, I would say maybe Ugandans have changed their attitudes towards them, because I know most of them are against such ideas.”
To me Malungi’s answer hearkens to the extreme fear and mistrust of gay people in Uganda. I was recently having conversations with other Ugandan friends who find homosexuality to be wrong, against God’s will, and a choice.
Le sigh. I feel like I’ve traveled back in time.
Not even Republican candidates for President of the US believe that being gay is a choice anymore. It’s 2016!! But here I feel more like it’s 1816, imperialist allusions and all. “Reading is to you whites as playing football is to us Africans,” I was told, in reference to the favorite pastimes of the different races. Also: “you don’t have the right to not believe in God.”
But I digress.
Another friend said that “with the only wizardry school in the whole of Africa being in Uganda…people from all around the world would come here and the country would not only be richer but also greatly recognized globally. On the other hand, where would you put religions?” He seems to be saying that a world-renowned school of wizardry might attract too much attention and acclaim, threatening organized religions. He asked:
“Is there a difference between wizardry and witchcraft?”
Which gets at the heart of the matter. You can’t talk about witchcraft in Africa the same way you can talk about it in the U.K. or the U.S. Sure, there are wiccans afoot, but their cultural influence is relatively small and besides, they’re generally pretty peaceful. In America, when we talk of witches we think of the Salem Witch Trials of 1692 or McCarthyism. When J.K. Rowling and her audience of fairly educated, mostly first-world readers (I bet I could look up some statistics on that) talk about witches and wizards, the connotations they have are fairly benign and very removed from ‘reality.’
When you talk about witchcraft in Africa, however, you’re talking about a very real lived experience and system of beliefs. Traditional animist religions and traditional healers are here in Uganda. Just yesterday, I took this photo:
Misspelling of crme aside, this educational message on the side of an NGO vehicle speaks to the very real and dangerous problem that witchcraft and traditional beliefs can be in Uganda. Which explains why my friend said:
“If it’s wands and broomsticks am in, but not the African shit hell no.”
High school Annette would be so excited at the news of a school of wizardry in Uganda, just like Malungi* would be: “First of all, I wouldn’t believe. But if I’m meant to believe, I would be so excited!”
But Annette in 2016 can’t learn of this news without wondering if J.K. Rowling has ever even been to Uganda. Has she thought through how imperialistic it is to write a fake history of a place that will be more real to average Brits and Americans than the real history of Uganda and Africa? Seriously, which is greater: the number of people in the U.K. and U.S. who have read all 7 Harry Potter books or the number of people in the U.K. and U.S. who have read about Mansa Musa or anything by Wole Soyinka or Bessie Head?
Not that this’ll hugely effect Uganda…as I mentioned, the fact that my coworkers had even heard of Harry Potter sets them apart from the average Ugandan.
But damn it. My career in international development is ruining everything for me. Harry Potter is only the latest victim.