


There was an influx of migrants to the UK in the 1960s and 70s as a direct consequence of the Empire and its collapse ultimately it becomes the destination for our family.

The subject of Empire is not discussed directly in the novel, but its presence resonates throughout. And beneath, as per the social hierarchy, are the smaller houses, descending to the cramped apartment blocks of the poorest Asians and then, finally, the cement blocks in which the black Ugandans live. Now the hill boasts the large homes of the wealthy Asian who have moved in to take their place. So named after the Acholi tribal chief cried out “ Kololo, Kololo” when he was captured by the British (“ I’m alone”), it was the home to wealthy Europeans before they upped sticks when independence was obtained. We learn early in the novel that Kololo Hill towers above the city of Kampala, where they live. Of course, as within most multicultural countries, there are some unspoken tensions, the sense of “them and us.” Vijay, with his brother Pran, husband to Asha, have taken over the family business of running the dukan, a general goods store they have a settled routine, and a flourishing network of friends. Jaya and her husband had come to Uganda years earlier, and the second generation are Ugandan born and bred. The plot orbits around a close-knit family, told through the triple narrative of Asha, recently married into the family, her brother-in-law, Vijay and her mother-in-law, Jaya. Uganda gained independence from the United Kingdom in 1962, and Idi Amin had seized power in 1971 in a military coup, pre-empting his arrest for misappropriation of military funds.

In the 1890s, about 32,000 labourers from British India were recruited to come to East Africa for this purpose and whilst most did return home, a small but significant proportion remained in the country and established roots, often gaining success in cotton production and retail. Because the Asians did indeed come to Uganda to build a railway when Uganda was a protectorate of the British Empire. In this single sentence we understand the context that is the primary thread in the fabric of the narrative: Empire, its cause and effect. Asians have milked the cow but did not feed it.” I will give them ninety days to pack up and go. In Neema Shah’s evocative debut novel, Kololo Hill, we are transported back to the Uganda of 1972, immediately before Idi Amin decreed that all Asians must leave: “The Asians came to Uganda to build the railway the railway is finished – they must leave now.
