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Kololo Hill
Uganda 1972
A devastating decree is issued: all Ugandan Asians must leave the country in ninety days. They must take only what they can carry, give up their money and never return.
For Asha and Pran, married a matter of months, it means abandoning the family business that Pran has worked so hard to save. For his mother, Jaya, it means saying goodbye to the house that has been her home for decades. But violence is escalating in Kampala, and people are disappearing. Will they all make it to safety in Britain and will they be given refuge if they do?
And all the while, a terrible secret about the expulsion hangs over them, threatening to tear the family apart.
From the green hilltops of Kampala, to the terraced houses of London, Neema Shah’s extraordinarily moving debut Kololo Hill explores what it means to leave your home behind, what it takes to start again, and the lengths some will go to protect their loved ones.
A devastating decree is issued: all Ugandan Asians must leave the country in ninety days. They must take only what they can carry, give up their money and never return.
For Asha and Pran, married a matter of months, it means abandoning the family business that Pran has worked so hard to save. For his mother, Jaya, it means saying goodbye to the house that has been her home for decades. But violence is escalating in Kampala, and people are disappearing. Will they all make it to safety in Britain and will they be given refuge if they do?
And all the while, a terrible secret about the expulsion hangs over them, threatening to tear the family apart.
From the green hilltops of Kampala, to the terraced houses of London, Neema Shah’s extraordinarily moving debut Kololo Hill explores what it means to leave your home behind, what it takes to start again, and the lengths some will go to protect their loved ones.
304 pages, Hardcover
Published February 18, 2020
65 people are currently reading
3945 people want to read
About the author
Neema Shah
7 books80 followersNeema Shah's novel Kololo Hill was chosen as a 2021 Pick for Foyles, The Daily Mail, The Irish Times and Cosmopolitan.
She was born and raised in London. Her grandparents left India for East Africa in the 1940s. Kololo Hill is inspired by their lives, as well as those who were expelled from Uganda by brutal ruler Idi Amin. Before publication, Kololo Hill won The Literary Consultancy Pen Factor Live, was shortlisted for the Bath Novel Award and First Novel Prize and was longlisted for various other writing awards.
After studying law at university, Neema built a career in marketing, specialising in TV, digital and brand strategy for companies including the BBC. She has always been an avid reader, but rekindled her early love of writing in 2015 while doing a short online course. She also once ran away to join a circus in New York, but that’s a story for another time…
She was born and raised in London. Her grandparents left India for East Africa in the 1940s. Kololo Hill is inspired by their lives, as well as those who were expelled from Uganda by brutal ruler Idi Amin. Before publication, Kololo Hill won The Literary Consultancy Pen Factor Live, was shortlisted for the Bath Novel Award and First Novel Prize and was longlisted for various other writing awards.
After studying law at university, Neema built a career in marketing, specialising in TV, digital and brand strategy for companies including the BBC. She has always been an avid reader, but rekindled her early love of writing in 2015 while doing a short online course. She also once ran away to join a circus in New York, but that’s a story for another time…
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 317 reviews
January 14, 2021
“Power is not a means; it is an end. One does not establish a dictatorship in order to safeguard a revolution; one makes the revolution in order to establish the dictatorship. The object of persecution is persecution. The object of torture is torture. The object of power is power.”
― George Orwell, 1984
In early August 1972, the President of Uganda, Idi Amin, ordered the expulsion of his country's Asian minority, giving them 90 days to leave the country, in addition, they were allowed to take only a minimum amount of money with them. Kololo Hill follows the lives of just one fictional Ugandan Asian family, as the expulsion deadline approaches.
Asha and Pran are newlyweds, living with Pran’s father Motichand, mother Jaya, and his brother Vijay. They have a houseboy too by the name of December, ( though he’s much too old to be a boy). December has been with the family since Motichand and Jaya arrived from India, and he means a lot to the family, particularly Jaya, and he too, is one of the minority’s who are in danger at the hands of Idi Amin’s regime.
Motichand and Jaya arrived in Uganda from India many years ago, and the beautiful green hilltops of Kololo Hill are very much their home now, they’ve made a decent life for themselves and have been very happy. That was before the expulsion was announced, and Amin’s curfews began, accompanied by an increasingly alarming and violent military presence, mainly directed at those of Asian descent. Not only does this family have to face the fear and challenge of starting a whole new life in a strange country, but to do it with very little money.
I can't even begin to imagine how it must feel, to be faced with the fact that you can never return to your home. That most precious of places - a safe haven from all the madness that takes place in the big outside world. However, this is exactly what our family in 'Kololo Hill' has to face, when they are uprooted and thrown out of Uganda, having to start a new life with nothing, leaving behind a successful business, a beautiful home, and friends of many years standing, thanks to the despot Idi Amin. Before that, there was the persecution, the theft of belongings by Amin’s scavenging soldiers, the rapes, the beatings and the killings
Told from various viewpoints, Neema Shah’s debut novel, gives great insight into what it was like for those immigrants starting a new life in England. There was the initial shock of the holding camps, and when our particular family eventually found somewhere to live, it was so vastly different from their beautiful hilltop home in Kampala. Their new home is an old damp, and freezing cold, terrace house in London. There were also the cultural differences, the hardship, and the hostility that they faced on a daily basis.
A poignant story of a family who lost everything they loved, trying to rebuild their lives in a country so different from their own, and one where the welcome they received, was as cold as the weather. Highly recommended.
*Thank you to Netgalley and Pan Macmillan for an ARC in exchange for an honest unbiased review *
― George Orwell, 1984
In early August 1972, the President of Uganda, Idi Amin, ordered the expulsion of his country's Asian minority, giving them 90 days to leave the country, in addition, they were allowed to take only a minimum amount of money with them. Kololo Hill follows the lives of just one fictional Ugandan Asian family, as the expulsion deadline approaches.
Asha and Pran are newlyweds, living with Pran’s father Motichand, mother Jaya, and his brother Vijay. They have a houseboy too by the name of December, ( though he’s much too old to be a boy). December has been with the family since Motichand and Jaya arrived from India, and he means a lot to the family, particularly Jaya, and he too, is one of the minority’s who are in danger at the hands of Idi Amin’s regime.
Motichand and Jaya arrived in Uganda from India many years ago, and the beautiful green hilltops of Kololo Hill are very much their home now, they’ve made a decent life for themselves and have been very happy. That was before the expulsion was announced, and Amin’s curfews began, accompanied by an increasingly alarming and violent military presence, mainly directed at those of Asian descent. Not only does this family have to face the fear and challenge of starting a whole new life in a strange country, but to do it with very little money.
I can't even begin to imagine how it must feel, to be faced with the fact that you can never return to your home. That most precious of places - a safe haven from all the madness that takes place in the big outside world. However, this is exactly what our family in 'Kololo Hill' has to face, when they are uprooted and thrown out of Uganda, having to start a new life with nothing, leaving behind a successful business, a beautiful home, and friends of many years standing, thanks to the despot Idi Amin. Before that, there was the persecution, the theft of belongings by Amin’s scavenging soldiers, the rapes, the beatings and the killings
Told from various viewpoints, Neema Shah’s debut novel, gives great insight into what it was like for those immigrants starting a new life in England. There was the initial shock of the holding camps, and when our particular family eventually found somewhere to live, it was so vastly different from their beautiful hilltop home in Kampala. Their new home is an old damp, and freezing cold, terrace house in London. There were also the cultural differences, the hardship, and the hostility that they faced on a daily basis.
A poignant story of a family who lost everything they loved, trying to rebuild their lives in a country so different from their own, and one where the welcome they received, was as cold as the weather. Highly recommended.
*Thank you to Netgalley and Pan Macmillan for an ARC in exchange for an honest unbiased review *
July 3, 2024
beautiful and heart-breaking.
September 14, 2020
In a recent interview, Hilary Mantel astutely summarised our enduring fascination with historical fiction when she declared “history is a process, not a locked box.” The charm of the genre resides largely in this fact - that both in its own time, and through the gaze of subsequent generations, history will always be subject to revision. So it is with Kololo Hill - Neema Shah’s extraordinarily moving and timely debut set amidst Idi Amin’s Ugandan Asian expulsion of 1972.
It is perhaps only through the lens of this distance that we can truly appreciate the legacy of these events, beautifully humanised through the struggle of one extended family as they are fractured and forced to leave behind everything they have known and owned in Kampala to make new lives in the UK. Amin’s dictate, motivated by insecurity and greed, was particularly cruel in this regard, giving families only 90 days notice to leave the country, under the threat of rape, internment or, in many cases, murder.
This last threat is where the novel begins, when Asha, a new bride, unwittingly stumbles across the terrifying evidence of just how far Amin’s forces will go to enforce their power in Uganda. Her silence about what she has witnessed may seem counterintuitive at first, until we realise that we have been placed in the midst of a situation where silence is the least dangerous of options.
Here, and throughout the novel, there is a beautiful symmetry of theme, reflected in both its macro and micro worlds. Hence, the idea of secrecy and silence is not only symptomatic of the response to political events, but within the very fabric of the family the story follows: Asha, the young newlywed who discovers her husband Pran has not been entirely honest with her; Jaya, Pran’s mother, whose secret debt to their black Ugandan “house-boy” has profound and long-lasting repercussions, and Vijay, Pran’s younger brother who, hindered by a genetic disability, harbours frustrations about a life not entirely lived.
The growing tensions of their life in Kampala are the subject of the first half of the book and the stakes are necessarily high. Pran, having rescued the family business from his good-natured but woefully lackadaisical father Motichand, is at last approaching some semblance of economic success, giving the family the material comforts that some in the area can only dream about. The African-born son of immigrants from India, Uganda is the only home Pran ( as well as Vijay and Asha) have ever known and this sense of identity and belonging is embedded in the narrative, making the emotional rift of Amin’s declaration even more profound. The novel is assiduous in the detail of their lives - the conversations, the climate, the assumed day-to-day routine of their existence, rendered in beautifully cinematic prose. This is a world the reader experiences rather than just reads about, highlighted by the choice detail of the unusual: the specificity of light on the trees; the feel of red dust; the precise way a cooking pot resonates in the silence. Food features prominently and exuberantly in the novel, both as a touchstone of culture and a measure of psychological and material well- being.
At the same time, there is an elegance and balance in the way Shah acknowledges and explores the differences between the Asian Ugandans and their black counterparts who have often been sidelined economically in the rise of Asian success. The metaphor of Kololo Hill is striking in this regard, acting as a physical barometer of the sociopolitical landscape whereby the black Ugandans historically live at the bottom, near the rubbish tip. In this way, Shah allows the actions and moral compass of Amin to become a dialogue between reader and text, as opposed to a one-sided diatribe.
This theme of choice is hugely important to the book, specifically in its exploration of the things that are both within and without our control. Given the circumstance of change, is belonging ultimately a state of mind?
It is this question which is explored in the second half of the book, once the sadly incomplete family lands in the UK and are faced with the challenges of language, culture and the casual and overt racism of their new environment. Some characters cope better than others, underlining both the generational and psychological differences which exist within individuals. Once again, Shah’s observational skills are admirable, with 1970s London skillfully conjured via both the general and specific details as seen through the eyes of the unfamiliar. Particularly striking in this regard is one of the characters’ adaptation to shopping which involves recognising the colours and shapes of brand logos in the absence of being able to read English, and their humorous distaste for the architecture of Arnos Grove. In a particularly beautiful passage, set during a harsh winter, the appearance of snow is likened to watching stars falling from the sky, mirroring both the interior and external world of the characters in a succinct and powerful way. The novel is also masterly in its handling of flashbacks which never feel forced; weaving fluidly through the present narrative and enhancing it with the presence of memory revisited and subsequently changed by experience. Why is it we only appreciate the things we had, the novel asks, when they are gone?
This latter section may seem to lack the considerable tension and pace of the first half of the novel, but to criticise it for that would be a mistake. After the gruelling events in Uganda, it is absolutely psychologically correct for the characters to express their cultural and material shock in these moments of quiet reflection, for it is only after reaching a state of relative safety that the legacy of their experience can be measured. The conflict here is quieter but no less urgent, as individuals come to question not only their culpability in past events but their choices going into the future, with the realisation that dire circumstances can sometimes be the precursor to change for the better. It is Asha with whom this resonates most profoundly, as a young Asian woman gradually realising the potency of her own agency removed from the assumptive constraints of what she thought she wanted from life.
This is an astonishingly assured debut, written with passion and emotion for its subject matter without resorting to sentimentality or political agenda. It is also an incredibly important novel in both the current and enduring climate of interrogating history through the filter of time in order to examine how we may do better for future generations. For this reason alone, it would be disingenuous to give it less than five stars.
My thanks to Netgalley and to the publishers Picador for the ARC in return for an independent review.
It is perhaps only through the lens of this distance that we can truly appreciate the legacy of these events, beautifully humanised through the struggle of one extended family as they are fractured and forced to leave behind everything they have known and owned in Kampala to make new lives in the UK. Amin’s dictate, motivated by insecurity and greed, was particularly cruel in this regard, giving families only 90 days notice to leave the country, under the threat of rape, internment or, in many cases, murder.
This last threat is where the novel begins, when Asha, a new bride, unwittingly stumbles across the terrifying evidence of just how far Amin’s forces will go to enforce their power in Uganda. Her silence about what she has witnessed may seem counterintuitive at first, until we realise that we have been placed in the midst of a situation where silence is the least dangerous of options.
Here, and throughout the novel, there is a beautiful symmetry of theme, reflected in both its macro and micro worlds. Hence, the idea of secrecy and silence is not only symptomatic of the response to political events, but within the very fabric of the family the story follows: Asha, the young newlywed who discovers her husband Pran has not been entirely honest with her; Jaya, Pran’s mother, whose secret debt to their black Ugandan “house-boy” has profound and long-lasting repercussions, and Vijay, Pran’s younger brother who, hindered by a genetic disability, harbours frustrations about a life not entirely lived.
The growing tensions of their life in Kampala are the subject of the first half of the book and the stakes are necessarily high. Pran, having rescued the family business from his good-natured but woefully lackadaisical father Motichand, is at last approaching some semblance of economic success, giving the family the material comforts that some in the area can only dream about. The African-born son of immigrants from India, Uganda is the only home Pran ( as well as Vijay and Asha) have ever known and this sense of identity and belonging is embedded in the narrative, making the emotional rift of Amin’s declaration even more profound. The novel is assiduous in the detail of their lives - the conversations, the climate, the assumed day-to-day routine of their existence, rendered in beautifully cinematic prose. This is a world the reader experiences rather than just reads about, highlighted by the choice detail of the unusual: the specificity of light on the trees; the feel of red dust; the precise way a cooking pot resonates in the silence. Food features prominently and exuberantly in the novel, both as a touchstone of culture and a measure of psychological and material well- being.
At the same time, there is an elegance and balance in the way Shah acknowledges and explores the differences between the Asian Ugandans and their black counterparts who have often been sidelined economically in the rise of Asian success. The metaphor of Kololo Hill is striking in this regard, acting as a physical barometer of the sociopolitical landscape whereby the black Ugandans historically live at the bottom, near the rubbish tip. In this way, Shah allows the actions and moral compass of Amin to become a dialogue between reader and text, as opposed to a one-sided diatribe.
This theme of choice is hugely important to the book, specifically in its exploration of the things that are both within and without our control. Given the circumstance of change, is belonging ultimately a state of mind?
It is this question which is explored in the second half of the book, once the sadly incomplete family lands in the UK and are faced with the challenges of language, culture and the casual and overt racism of their new environment. Some characters cope better than others, underlining both the generational and psychological differences which exist within individuals. Once again, Shah’s observational skills are admirable, with 1970s London skillfully conjured via both the general and specific details as seen through the eyes of the unfamiliar. Particularly striking in this regard is one of the characters’ adaptation to shopping which involves recognising the colours and shapes of brand logos in the absence of being able to read English, and their humorous distaste for the architecture of Arnos Grove. In a particularly beautiful passage, set during a harsh winter, the appearance of snow is likened to watching stars falling from the sky, mirroring both the interior and external world of the characters in a succinct and powerful way. The novel is also masterly in its handling of flashbacks which never feel forced; weaving fluidly through the present narrative and enhancing it with the presence of memory revisited and subsequently changed by experience. Why is it we only appreciate the things we had, the novel asks, when they are gone?
This latter section may seem to lack the considerable tension and pace of the first half of the novel, but to criticise it for that would be a mistake. After the gruelling events in Uganda, it is absolutely psychologically correct for the characters to express their cultural and material shock in these moments of quiet reflection, for it is only after reaching a state of relative safety that the legacy of their experience can be measured. The conflict here is quieter but no less urgent, as individuals come to question not only their culpability in past events but their choices going into the future, with the realisation that dire circumstances can sometimes be the precursor to change for the better. It is Asha with whom this resonates most profoundly, as a young Asian woman gradually realising the potency of her own agency removed from the assumptive constraints of what she thought she wanted from life.
This is an astonishingly assured debut, written with passion and emotion for its subject matter without resorting to sentimentality or political agenda. It is also an incredibly important novel in both the current and enduring climate of interrogating history through the filter of time in order to examine how we may do better for future generations. For this reason alone, it would be disingenuous to give it less than five stars.
My thanks to Netgalley and to the publishers Picador for the ARC in return for an independent review.
January 3, 2022
Poignant. Shocking. Insightful. While steering through a dreadful decree that sets an alarm on a minority community in Uganda dictatorship, this debut comments on familial relationships, painful departures, and starting afresh amidst the emotional damage and baggage being carried across borders.
Following a military coup that established a dictator in 1972 Uganda, a forcible exclusion and expulsion of the Indian minority was declared and commenced amidst brutal curfews and strict night patrols. With people disappearing and bodies floating the Nile river, the violence evidently divided the population despite the united brutality of the military they all faced. Set against this backdrop, the stories of three fictional characters are played out through two sections: one set in Uganda during the few days before them being expelled, and the other playing out their new lives following the historical scar.
An omniscient narration exposes the unfortunate mask of nationalism that often sidelines and ultimately nullifies the existence of minorities in the very same nation, through character-driven prose that also brings the history of British colonialism, economic disparity in the community, and what home really means to light. Pran, the dominant head of a family who is passionate and prideful of his family business, doesn’t believe in the soon-to-be-true rumours of this forced expulsion. His need to keep the family united often affects the peace of his family, ironically establishing him as an autocrat of this little world of his.
Asha, his wife, is opinionated and assertive, doesn’t shy away from acknowledging the privilege they hold, and determined to create a better life in England after the nightmare she witnessed back in Uganda. Jaya, Pran’s mother, is the matriarchal head whose soft power chases to uphold the pride and dignity of her family while coping with the sudden loss of two men in her life—her husband who died from a fall after being threatened by soldiers and the houseboy, an unlikely companion, who disappeared without a word. Despite beginning her life in Uganda during her teen years after marriage and thereby being sentimentally connected to the land, Jaya shows strength and is determined to guide her family towards England to start anew.
Vijay, the youngest, has always supported his elder brother, Pran, but the loss of home forces him to think more about himself and walk towards England with an optimistic perspective. Navigating a new path and the challenges that come with it, he depicts the continuous efforts made by refugees to reinvent their lives. These characters together paint the sensitivity of love, anger, and fear while horrors unravel and hope persists. They show the emotional differences and distinct viewpoints within a family as they reminisce about their lost country and begin to make another their home.
17.01.2021 more stories about ugandan asians, yes, and especially when they show the influence of sudden regulations passed in history.
Kololo Hill is a historical fiction featuring Ugandan Indians who traverse the horrors and hope of home.
Following a military coup that established a dictator in 1972 Uganda, a forcible exclusion and expulsion of the Indian minority was declared and commenced amidst brutal curfews and strict night patrols. With people disappearing and bodies floating the Nile river, the violence evidently divided the population despite the united brutality of the military they all faced. Set against this backdrop, the stories of three fictional characters are played out through two sections: one set in Uganda during the few days before them being expelled, and the other playing out their new lives following the historical scar.
➵ consider reading this review on my blog!
An omniscient narration exposes the unfortunate mask of nationalism that often sidelines and ultimately nullifies the existence of minorities in the very same nation, through character-driven prose that also brings the history of British colonialism, economic disparity in the community, and what home really means to light. Pran, the dominant head of a family who is passionate and prideful of his family business, doesn’t believe in the soon-to-be-true rumours of this forced expulsion. His need to keep the family united often affects the peace of his family, ironically establishing him as an autocrat of this little world of his.
Asha, his wife, is opinionated and assertive, doesn’t shy away from acknowledging the privilege they hold, and determined to create a better life in England after the nightmare she witnessed back in Uganda. Jaya, Pran’s mother, is the matriarchal head whose soft power chases to uphold the pride and dignity of her family while coping with the sudden loss of two men in her life—her husband who died from a fall after being threatened by soldiers and the houseboy, an unlikely companion, who disappeared without a word. Despite beginning her life in Uganda during her teen years after marriage and thereby being sentimentally connected to the land, Jaya shows strength and is determined to guide her family towards England to start anew.
Vijay, the youngest, has always supported his elder brother, Pran, but the loss of home forces him to think more about himself and walk towards England with an optimistic perspective. Navigating a new path and the challenges that come with it, he depicts the continuous efforts made by refugees to reinvent their lives. These characters together paint the sensitivity of love, anger, and fear while horrors unravel and hope persists. They show the emotional differences and distinct viewpoints within a family as they reminisce about their lost country and begin to make another their home.
thank you to picador books uk for the early copy!
17.01.2021 more stories about ugandan asians, yes, and especially when they show the influence of sudden regulations passed in history.
March 23, 2021
What is it like for a family to be forced to leave everything behind and start again? This is the terrifying question at the centre of debut novel “Kololo Hill”. The story hinges upon a significant moment in Ugandan history when in 1971 an officer named Idi Amin became dictator after a military coup. Amidst the brutalities of his new regime, he forcibly removed the entrepreneurial Indian minority from Uganda. I first learned about this shocking period of history when reading another recent debut novel “We Are All Birds of Uganda” which describes the desperate flight from the country. Neema Shah positions Amin's decree halfway through her novel so we follow a family's life in the before and after of this enforced expulsion. This makes it a dramatic and gripping experience because just as we become familiar with the daily life of this family they are uprooted and flung into a new life in England. For couple Asha and Pran who were recently married it presents an even greater complication because they have different passports so are no longer allowed to live in the same country. The catastrophe of the expulsion and the violence this family experiences and witnesses transforms each individual as they struggle to adapt and adjust to their changed circumstances. It's powerful how this novel prompts the reader to question how they would cope if suddenly forced to leave behind the only home they ever knew.
Read my full review of Kololo Hill by Neema Shah on LonesomeReader
Read my full review of Kololo Hill by Neema Shah on LonesomeReader
March 12, 2021
“𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘰’𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯: 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘈 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭, 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 ‘𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘳.’”
Did you know?
In 1896, the British government took Indians under compulsion to East Africa to build the Kenyan-Ugandan railway, one of the most difficult to be built in the history of the railways. It was a dreadful experience for about 32,000 Indians and was famously named the ‘lunatic line’. Their successors became small business and factory owners, shopkeepers and clerks. Later, in 1972 General Idi Amin declared that Ugandan Asians were ‘bloodsuckers’ and ‘burdens on the state’. And this is how 80,000 Ugandan Asians were expelled from their home and given 90 days to leave.
𝘒𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘏𝘪𝘭𝘭 is the story of one such Gujarati family who called Uganda home and suddenly one day, found themselves struggling to seek refuge in any other country, desperate to be accepted. It furthermore shows the cruelty, harassment and public beatings by Idi Amin’s soldiers towards Asians and other minor Ugandan tribes.
What's more unique about this debut novel are the detailed characters, especially women protagonists. My heart goes out to faithful December, strong-willed Asha, resilient Jaya, good-hearted Vijay and happy-go-lucky Motichand.
@neemashahauthor beautifully captures the lives of immigrants, their emotions while leaving everything behind and adapting to a new culture and country. Her words will keep you hooked from the beginning, take you on a trip to the radiant land of Uganda and make you wonder what home really means to you.
Strongly recommended.
Author’s note:
𝘞𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘪, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘐𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘵𝘰 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘗𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘺𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘺. 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦.
- I researched a little more about Ugandan Asian history, source: livehistoryindia.com
- Would also recommend 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘉𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘜𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢 for a similar historical perspective.
Did you know?
In 1896, the British government took Indians under compulsion to East Africa to build the Kenyan-Ugandan railway, one of the most difficult to be built in the history of the railways. It was a dreadful experience for about 32,000 Indians and was famously named the ‘lunatic line’. Their successors became small business and factory owners, shopkeepers and clerks. Later, in 1972 General Idi Amin declared that Ugandan Asians were ‘bloodsuckers’ and ‘burdens on the state’. And this is how 80,000 Ugandan Asians were expelled from their home and given 90 days to leave.
𝘒𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘏𝘪𝘭𝘭 is the story of one such Gujarati family who called Uganda home and suddenly one day, found themselves struggling to seek refuge in any other country, desperate to be accepted. It furthermore shows the cruelty, harassment and public beatings by Idi Amin’s soldiers towards Asians and other minor Ugandan tribes.
What's more unique about this debut novel are the detailed characters, especially women protagonists. My heart goes out to faithful December, strong-willed Asha, resilient Jaya, good-hearted Vijay and happy-go-lucky Motichand.
@neemashahauthor beautifully captures the lives of immigrants, their emotions while leaving everything behind and adapting to a new culture and country. Her words will keep you hooked from the beginning, take you on a trip to the radiant land of Uganda and make you wonder what home really means to you.
Strongly recommended.
Author’s note:
𝘞𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘪, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘐𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘵𝘰 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘗𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘺𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘺. 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦.
- I researched a little more about Ugandan Asian history, source: livehistoryindia.com
- Would also recommend 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘉𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘜𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢 for a similar historical perspective.
February 7, 2022
1.5 stars because i'm sticking to my aim of reading more South Asian books, but unfortunately the writing was just bad.
CW:
i really wanted to like Kololo Hill, but it was a painstaking reading experience overall. only the descriptions of food were successful. it was a bit like Half of a Yellow Sun, where so much happens plotwise, but for some reason the author chooses to focus on the most mundane things.
i don't understand a single character's motivations and their thoughts are so unrealistic that it's clear they only exist for the reader to learn something about the character's past. every conversation and flashback is incredibly scripted. They make the characters seem even more flimsy, rather than providing greater depth. this made me appreciate how the flashbacks in A Place For Us and Tell Me How To Be create such genuine images of the main characters' childhoods.
Asha is supposed to bold and unafraid, but it's only the clunky mentions of Asha holding her tongue that give us this clue about her nature. Pran, Asha's husband, made even less sense. i'm just glad that we barely get to read his perspective. Vijay, Pran's younger brother, has a bit more of a personality, but that's very inconsistent, swinging from being a family-oriented son to an independent man with explanation. the only character that got me to read a few pages at a time was Jaya, Pran and Vijay's mother. Jaya's personality and thoughts were consistent, which still doesn't make her interesting, especially because a big part of that comes from her consistently complaining about the cold in London.
i've never been to London, but i do have some idea of what it's like now and in the past from books like Home Fire and The Picture of Dorian Gray. Kololo Hill had nothing. the only description of London is it's cold climate and heavy rain. the family moves from Kampala to London and the only differences Jaya notices are the weather and the supermarkets. similarly, the descriptions of Kampala are, for the most part, nonexistent. for a book centred on homelands, from a village (can't remember the name) in Gujurat to Kololo Hill in Kampala to some suburb in London, there was no description of the setting, except for a brief explanation of the history of Kololo Hill.
the lack of detail about the setting made it feel like the book could be set anywhere. there are definitely books like Guapa and Exit West that cleverly use an unnamed country as the setting, but Kololo Hill definitely isn't one of them.
i know barely anything about Uganda, so i was hoping to learn something about the country's history from this book. unfortunately, i didn't get anything out of the book that isn't already in the blurb. i'm guessing East African South Asians will like Kololo Hill more than me -probably because there is such little representation of their history and culture in books. recognition of the intent to share underrepresented history is the only positive i can think of.
CW:
i really wanted to like Kololo Hill, but it was a painstaking reading experience overall. only the descriptions of food were successful. it was a bit like Half of a Yellow Sun, where so much happens plotwise, but for some reason the author chooses to focus on the most mundane things.
i don't understand a single character's motivations and their thoughts are so unrealistic that it's clear they only exist for the reader to learn something about the character's past. every conversation and flashback is incredibly scripted. They make the characters seem even more flimsy, rather than providing greater depth. this made me appreciate how the flashbacks in A Place For Us and Tell Me How To Be create such genuine images of the main characters' childhoods.
Asha is supposed to bold and unafraid, but it's only the clunky mentions of Asha holding her tongue that give us this clue about her nature. Pran, Asha's husband, made even less sense. i'm just glad that we barely get to read his perspective. Vijay, Pran's younger brother, has a bit more of a personality, but that's very inconsistent, swinging from being a family-oriented son to an independent man with explanation. the only character that got me to read a few pages at a time was Jaya, Pran and Vijay's mother. Jaya's personality and thoughts were consistent, which still doesn't make her interesting, especially because a big part of that comes from her consistently complaining about the cold in London.
i've never been to London, but i do have some idea of what it's like now and in the past from books like Home Fire and The Picture of Dorian Gray. Kololo Hill had nothing. the only description of London is it's cold climate and heavy rain. the family moves from Kampala to London and the only differences Jaya notices are the weather and the supermarkets. similarly, the descriptions of Kampala are, for the most part, nonexistent. for a book centred on homelands, from a village (can't remember the name) in Gujurat to Kololo Hill in Kampala to some suburb in London, there was no description of the setting, except for a brief explanation of the history of Kololo Hill.
Long ago, on the land that became Kololo Hill, an Acholi tribal chief was captured by the British. 'Kololo, kololo,' he'd cried out, 'I'm alone, I'm alone.' His cry echoed through the decades: Kololo Hill.
the lack of detail about the setting made it feel like the book could be set anywhere. there are definitely books like Guapa and Exit West that cleverly use an unnamed country as the setting, but Kololo Hill definitely isn't one of them.
i know barely anything about Uganda, so i was hoping to learn something about the country's history from this book. unfortunately, i didn't get anything out of the book that isn't already in the blurb. i'm guessing East African South Asians will like Kololo Hill more than me -probably because there is such little representation of their history and culture in books. recognition of the intent to share underrepresented history is the only positive i can think of.
November 23, 2020
I read a LOT of books set in the Indian sub-continent and about the immigrant experience - especially people from that region coming to terms with life in the UK or USA. I'm really quite surprised that this is the first novel I've come across that addresses the 1972 expulsion of Ugandan Asians by the despotic dictator, Idi Amin. This book has inspired me to read more around this topic, though I suspect it's not going to be easy to find many novels set at that time and in that place.
In the late 1800s, many Indian workers migrated to East Africa in search of work building the railways. Not all stayed, but many set up businesses and became very successful especially in running stores and warehouses. When Idi Amin took control of the country in 1971 he - like many leaders before and since - built his own following by turning people against each other and he accused Asian shopkeepers of 'milking' his country. In 1972, he gave them 90 days to leave the country. Kenya had also made life very difficult for Asian business owners a few years earlier, but Amin took it further. Around 80,000 Asians - some of them born and brought up in Uganda and knowing no other home - were expelled from the country. Kololo Hill tells the story of one such (fictional) Ugandan-Indian family.
The story revolves around a middle-aged couple, their two sons, and their daughter-in-law as well as their house-boy, December. We see the family arguing over whether to stay, whether to go to India or to Britain, and trying to find a way to keep just a little of their wealth to take with them. Most of the family end up in the UK, housed in an old army barracks, trying to get used to the cold, miserable weather and the sometimes unfriendly locals. Mother Jaya, her daughter in law, Asha, and her son, Vijay, have to tackle the labour exchange, ignorance from co-employees and racism, whilst they wait in hope that the missing son, Pran, will be reunited with them.
It's beautifully written, addresses a time and situation that many people know little about and asks a lot of questions about what you're supposed to do when somebody tells you to "Go back home" but you can't, because home doesn't exist any more.
With thanks to Netgalley and the publishers for a review copy.
In the late 1800s, many Indian workers migrated to East Africa in search of work building the railways. Not all stayed, but many set up businesses and became very successful especially in running stores and warehouses. When Idi Amin took control of the country in 1971 he - like many leaders before and since - built his own following by turning people against each other and he accused Asian shopkeepers of 'milking' his country. In 1972, he gave them 90 days to leave the country. Kenya had also made life very difficult for Asian business owners a few years earlier, but Amin took it further. Around 80,000 Asians - some of them born and brought up in Uganda and knowing no other home - were expelled from the country. Kololo Hill tells the story of one such (fictional) Ugandan-Indian family.
The story revolves around a middle-aged couple, their two sons, and their daughter-in-law as well as their house-boy, December. We see the family arguing over whether to stay, whether to go to India or to Britain, and trying to find a way to keep just a little of their wealth to take with them. Most of the family end up in the UK, housed in an old army barracks, trying to get used to the cold, miserable weather and the sometimes unfriendly locals. Mother Jaya, her daughter in law, Asha, and her son, Vijay, have to tackle the labour exchange, ignorance from co-employees and racism, whilst they wait in hope that the missing son, Pran, will be reunited with them.
It's beautifully written, addresses a time and situation that many people know little about and asks a lot of questions about what you're supposed to do when somebody tells you to "Go back home" but you can't, because home doesn't exist any more.
With thanks to Netgalley and the publishers for a review copy.
January 19, 2022
Kololo Hill by Neema Shah- 3.5⭐
Content warnings: Death, Gun violence, Racism, Sexual violence, Genocide
Before I begin this review, let me clear one thing- even with my rating, would I still recommend this book? Hell yes! This is a much-needed book and I want everyone to give this a shot because seldom do we ever have books with Ugandan Indian stories.
Before reading this book, I did not know anything about Idi Amin, about Asians working in Uganda and Kenya for the rail works and about the expulsion that took place. This book, with its beautiful writing and complex characters, shows us exactly what happened and how things had changed.
Asha and Pran are newly weds and just as they begin their journey along with Pran’s family, they are faced with expulsion that may possibly separate them and with every secret, every shock that comes, things get more complex and serious once they are faced with the fact that they cannot escape this expulsion and they must leave the house forever.
I loved the way the family dynamics were portrayed in this book, I felt like because the Gujrati tradition is so close to my own tradition, I enjoyed it a lot more. I even absolutely loved Asha’s character, everything about her character is just *chef’s kiss* because the way she confronted things and moved forward was commendable. I loved the book until 50% and after that quite a few things went down the hill for me.
The very first thing that I noticed was that there was a change in the pacing of the book, because the moment after they have to leave to the end, the pacing felt a little off to me and I just lost the touch with the book because of that. But once again I guess it was for the fact that the characters are given their time to greive the loss of the familiarity that they had in Uganda which they don’t in this foreign land. I also failed to really connect to Pran in the end but I will not forget to mention that Pran was probably one of the most complex characters in the book and I’d honestly have loved to have his POV but I guess the complexity is a reason why Neema didn’t give him a POV. At one point I really want to sympathize with Pran but I honestly didn’t understand most of the things he did.
The last thing that really upset me was the end, I don’t know if I should call it a cliff hanger or just incomplete, there was something really off with the end. I was really not satisfied with the way things ended, with Pran and Asha, with Vijay, I feel like I did not get a closure with these characters.
Overall, it is an amazing novel and like I’ve said before, I want people to read this book because it tackles with many important themes and gives an insight into a very important part of history which isn’t mentioned a lot. Here’s to more books on African Indian books being published in the coming years because that narrative is very much required.
--How could you disappear from history books you’d never been inside in the first place? And no one had ever bothered to write it down on paper; their history had been told by one person to another, words changed, parts left out, or added. --
❣ find me on my socials here ❣
Blog | Instagram | Twitter |
Content warnings: Death, Gun violence, Racism, Sexual violence, Genocide
Before I begin this review, let me clear one thing- even with my rating, would I still recommend this book? Hell yes! This is a much-needed book and I want everyone to give this a shot because seldom do we ever have books with Ugandan Indian stories.
Before reading this book, I did not know anything about Idi Amin, about Asians working in Uganda and Kenya for the rail works and about the expulsion that took place. This book, with its beautiful writing and complex characters, shows us exactly what happened and how things had changed.
Asha and Pran are newly weds and just as they begin their journey along with Pran’s family, they are faced with expulsion that may possibly separate them and with every secret, every shock that comes, things get more complex and serious once they are faced with the fact that they cannot escape this expulsion and they must leave the house forever.
I loved the way the family dynamics were portrayed in this book, I felt like because the Gujrati tradition is so close to my own tradition, I enjoyed it a lot more. I even absolutely loved Asha’s character, everything about her character is just *chef’s kiss* because the way she confronted things and moved forward was commendable. I loved the book until 50% and after that quite a few things went down the hill for me.
The very first thing that I noticed was that there was a change in the pacing of the book, because the moment after they have to leave to the end, the pacing felt a little off to me and I just lost the touch with the book because of that. But once again I guess it was for the fact that the characters are given their time to greive the loss of the familiarity that they had in Uganda which they don’t in this foreign land. I also failed to really connect to Pran in the end but I will not forget to mention that Pran was probably one of the most complex characters in the book and I’d honestly have loved to have his POV but I guess the complexity is a reason why Neema didn’t give him a POV. At one point I really want to sympathize with Pran but I honestly didn’t understand most of the things he did.
The last thing that really upset me was the end, I don’t know if I should call it a cliff hanger or just incomplete, there was something really off with the end. I was really not satisfied with the way things ended, with Pran and Asha, with Vijay, I feel like I did not get a closure with these characters.
Overall, it is an amazing novel and like I’ve said before, I want people to read this book because it tackles with many important themes and gives an insight into a very important part of history which isn’t mentioned a lot. Here’s to more books on African Indian books being published in the coming years because that narrative is very much required.
--How could you disappear from history books you’d never been inside in the first place? And no one had ever bothered to write it down on paper; their history had been told by one person to another, words changed, parts left out, or added. --
❣ find me on my socials here ❣
Blog | Instagram | Twitter |
July 13, 2021
Themes
Identity, a sense of belonging and the meaning of home.
Tracing her ancestry Jaya reflects on the halcyon days of life in Kololo identifying the harmony across religions in Kampala, that is quite unlike the situation in Gujarat, India
Synopsis
Idi Amin assumes power in Uganda in January 1971 and eighteen months later in August 1972, 50,000 Asians in Uganda are given nine weeks to get out of the country. Evocative of the renowned scenes of panic when American departed Saigon three years later in April 1975, the Ugandan Asians had to fend for themselves (and the numbers were huge). The country rapidly descends into administrative anarchy as the supposed protectors (soldiers) became the aggressors thieving, raping, killing, with impunity. The vulnerable depart for the last planes out of Entebbe airport, having been furtive captives in their own homes.
Neema Shah tells the story of the events through a family of five.
Motichand and Jaya(ben), parents of brothers Pran(bhai) and Vijay, and Pran’s wife, Asha(ben). They are a tight knit family, but not without underlying frictions. The last key character is “houseboy “December (real name Adenya), an Acholi.
Hits
From the moment that it is announced on the radio (with no prior warning) that the Asian population are to be expelled there’s an edginess and sense of dark foreboding that carries the book well. Jaya is an especially strong character displaying a steeliness in adversity. She is well aware of the weaknesses of her husband and she will express strong opinions, and act upon them when necessary (a characteristic shared by her daughter in law Asha).
Misses
The book is divided into two parts, (Uganda and England). The England section is weaker as the family dynamics that became apparent in Uganda are largely rehashed. The love story element that flickers between Asha and Vijay is fine, but standard fare after the much more emotionally charged scenes unfolding in the Ugandan section.
Historical & Literary context
I wonder if Neema Shah and Hafsa Zayyan have ever met? Zayyan’s We Are All Birds of Uganda was also published in 2021 and the events described, and time periods are remarkably similar.
The affluence of the Kololo area is well described; the importance and significance of the nationality of the different passports (British, Ugandan, Indian), and the loyalty of a loyal ‘houseboy (Abdallah in Zayyan’s novel). Its a strange co-incidence that the exodus of Ugandan Asians in 1972 has been so little written about and then along come two books on the subject.
Author background & Reviews
From Instagram: “English is my second language - I was born in London but solely spoke Gujarati until I started school. I went to a state comprehensive school and went to university on a full grant (e.g. funded by the government). I don't have a creative writing BA or MA and I didn't start writing my first novel until I was in my late thirties.”
In 2018 Kololo Hill was shortlisted for the Bath Novel award. The book also won the TLC (The Literary Consultancy) Pen Factor Live, shortlisted in the First Novel Prize and York Festival of Writing Best Opening Chapter and longlisted in the Exeter Novel Prize and Retreat West First Chapter competitions.
Recommend
This is a book that I’ve not seen reviewed as widely as I think it deserves. Its well written, and the passages surrounding forced evacuation and the sudden reality of being a displaced immigrant are memorable. I will recommend this book to friends.
Identity, a sense of belonging and the meaning of home.
Tracing her ancestry Jaya reflects on the halcyon days of life in Kololo identifying the harmony across religions in Kampala, that is quite unlike the situation in Gujarat, India
Synopsis
Idi Amin assumes power in Uganda in January 1971 and eighteen months later in August 1972, 50,000 Asians in Uganda are given nine weeks to get out of the country. Evocative of the renowned scenes of panic when American departed Saigon three years later in April 1975, the Ugandan Asians had to fend for themselves (and the numbers were huge). The country rapidly descends into administrative anarchy as the supposed protectors (soldiers) became the aggressors thieving, raping, killing, with impunity. The vulnerable depart for the last planes out of Entebbe airport, having been furtive captives in their own homes.
Neema Shah tells the story of the events through a family of five.
Motichand and Jaya(ben), parents of brothers Pran(bhai) and Vijay, and Pran’s wife, Asha(ben). They are a tight knit family, but not without underlying frictions. The last key character is “houseboy “December (real name Adenya), an Acholi.
Hits
From the moment that it is announced on the radio (with no prior warning) that the Asian population are to be expelled there’s an edginess and sense of dark foreboding that carries the book well. Jaya is an especially strong character displaying a steeliness in adversity. She is well aware of the weaknesses of her husband and she will express strong opinions, and act upon them when necessary (a characteristic shared by her daughter in law Asha).
Misses
The book is divided into two parts, (Uganda and England). The England section is weaker as the family dynamics that became apparent in Uganda are largely rehashed. The love story element that flickers between Asha and Vijay is fine, but standard fare after the much more emotionally charged scenes unfolding in the Ugandan section.
Historical & Literary context
I wonder if Neema Shah and Hafsa Zayyan have ever met? Zayyan’s We Are All Birds of Uganda was also published in 2021 and the events described, and time periods are remarkably similar.
The affluence of the Kololo area is well described; the importance and significance of the nationality of the different passports (British, Ugandan, Indian), and the loyalty of a loyal ‘houseboy (Abdallah in Zayyan’s novel). Its a strange co-incidence that the exodus of Ugandan Asians in 1972 has been so little written about and then along come two books on the subject.
Author background & Reviews
From Instagram: “English is my second language - I was born in London but solely spoke Gujarati until I started school. I went to a state comprehensive school and went to university on a full grant (e.g. funded by the government). I don't have a creative writing BA or MA and I didn't start writing my first novel until I was in my late thirties.”
In 2018 Kololo Hill was shortlisted for the Bath Novel award. The book also won the TLC (The Literary Consultancy) Pen Factor Live, shortlisted in the First Novel Prize and York Festival of Writing Best Opening Chapter and longlisted in the Exeter Novel Prize and Retreat West First Chapter competitions.
Recommend
This is a book that I’ve not seen reviewed as widely as I think it deserves. Its well written, and the passages surrounding forced evacuation and the sudden reality of being a displaced immigrant are memorable. I will recommend this book to friends.
February 12, 2021
Visit the locations in the novel Kololo Hill
Transports the reader to Idi Amin’s Uganda
A remarkable novel and one to remember.
Asha is a new bride who soon realises the level and seriousness of these threats. At the start of the novel we find out that she is in danger. She has seen something that makes it very dangerous for her. Silence is dangerous as is telling someone what she knows. However, silence seems to be the lesser of two evils.
Every one of the characters seems to have a dilemma of epic proportions. This is their country but they are being forced out. They have no choice but to survive. Survival is everything. Life in Kampala is on a knife edge and it’s painfully hard to read how people were so persecuted and worse. When you think that this actually happened although fictionalise in the book, your heart bleeds.
I think the strength of this novel is that you meet and stay with many of the characters and get to know them inside and out. they are so well drawn and vivid. They live in this city, this country and this is their home. How do you drag someone away from this? How does someone survive being dragged away from this? Heartbreaking.
For me, the setting and level of detail in the novel really helps bring out the story of the country, the history and its people. The language here showcases the wonderful landscape and culture with details you will be amazed at as the words shine a focus on details that make this novel sing. In the same way, poltics and history show themselves in the way the Asian Ugandans and the Black Ugandans are at war with each other. To learn so much about a country via a book in this way is very insightful.
The second half of the novel takes the journey of these people all the way to England. The characters are displaced and confused. Their journey is evoked by language, culture shock and all the challenges of moving to another country. Add forced expulsion to this of course. they arrive in London of the 1970s and once again, the setting and landscape, history and culture are evoked with stylish aplomb.
The contrast between the two parts of the novel, between the two countries and cultures is huge but beautifully showcases the reality of this situation.
I think this novel deserves to be read by so many people for so many reasons. To think that it’s a debut too! I will definately be in the queue when this author’s next book comes out.
December 21, 2020
Kololo Hill is a wonderful novel, at once intimate in it’s focus on one family, but at the same time it captures the universal experiences of so many who have had to flee their homelands, finding themselves at the mercy of other nations willing, or not, to offer them refuge. Then to face the challenge of trying to build a life with nothing, in an alien land and language, amongst people who may not welcome you. As the child of a refugee myself, this book resonated strongly. Through every sense, Neema Shah portrays the landscape and life, the scents and tastes of Uganda with such clarity that I almost yearned for it myself. The novel explores with skill and nuance how, when a family is put under extreme stress and ultimately separated by circumstances outside their control, not only strengths in individuals and relationships are exposed, but fissures too.The beautifully written Kololo Hill is a novel to savour, and it will stay with me long after I closed the final page. Thank you to the author and Picador for the advance copy.
Read
April 5, 2021I wish African schools went out of their way to teach the history of various African nations, there is so much to unpack, learn and understand, I remain thankful that reading is a beloved hobby of mine because it allows me to learn beyond and about the world I live in.
Reading about Uganda is not new to me thanks to the wonderful Jennifer Makumbi Nansubuga, so visiting the world within the pages of Kololo Hill was like visiting an old friend but getting to learn so much more, as I was introduced to many more layers.
Set at the start of Idi Amin’s heinous regime, amidst his expulsion of the Ugandan Asian in 1972. Where his motivation for this can only be called greed, insecurity and blood hunger thirst for power, thus giving the Asians 90 days to leave the country, they call their home—the only lives many of them have ever known or face endless atrocities.
The story follows the lives of a Ugandan Indian family, Motichand and his wife Jaya, their two sons, Pran and Vijay and Asha, Pran’s wife, and also their houseboy December an Acholi Ugandan, whose tribe was also being hunted by Idi Amin. The words within the pages vividly paint the climate and give insight to a time that hasn’t ever really been given attention to when history is being told. Poignantly showcasing the struggles, heartbreak and jarring motion of the devastatingly upheaving lives.
It is important that she also notes that many Ugandan’s were under thriving compared to the Ugandan Asians, which reminded me of when I first read the title Kololo Hill and learnt the story was set in Uganda. The world hill had so much impact on me because I remember reading the Ugandans lived in squalor at the bottom of the hills and how Idi Amin, exploited this to match his propaganda, very much like Hitler.
Neema Shah’s writing style is one that is easy to follow and her story-telling compelling as the world she describes is brought to life with so much clarity. Kololo Hill is a story about family and most importantly about change. I would compare it to the likes The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, which coincidentally is about Indians as well, but I say this because reading Kololo Hill, was as much an experience as reading The God of Small Things, and I recommend this, it never hurts to learn more about history.
Reading about Uganda is not new to me thanks to the wonderful Jennifer Makumbi Nansubuga, so visiting the world within the pages of Kololo Hill was like visiting an old friend but getting to learn so much more, as I was introduced to many more layers.
Set at the start of Idi Amin’s heinous regime, amidst his expulsion of the Ugandan Asian in 1972. Where his motivation for this can only be called greed, insecurity and blood hunger thirst for power, thus giving the Asians 90 days to leave the country, they call their home—the only lives many of them have ever known or face endless atrocities.
The story follows the lives of a Ugandan Indian family, Motichand and his wife Jaya, their two sons, Pran and Vijay and Asha, Pran’s wife, and also their houseboy December an Acholi Ugandan, whose tribe was also being hunted by Idi Amin. The words within the pages vividly paint the climate and give insight to a time that hasn’t ever really been given attention to when history is being told. Poignantly showcasing the struggles, heartbreak and jarring motion of the devastatingly upheaving lives.
It is important that she also notes that many Ugandan’s were under thriving compared to the Ugandan Asians, which reminded me of when I first read the title Kololo Hill and learnt the story was set in Uganda. The world hill had so much impact on me because I remember reading the Ugandans lived in squalor at the bottom of the hills and how Idi Amin, exploited this to match his propaganda, very much like Hitler.
Neema Shah’s writing style is one that is easy to follow and her story-telling compelling as the world she describes is brought to life with so much clarity. Kololo Hill is a story about family and most importantly about change. I would compare it to the likes The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, which coincidentally is about Indians as well, but I say this because reading Kololo Hill, was as much an experience as reading The God of Small Things, and I recommend this, it never hurts to learn more about history.
January 15, 2021
In Kololo Hill, Shah brings the backdrops of Uganda and Britain into vivid life as she explores themes of belonging, displacement and cultural identity. Her beautiful prose makes this a truly rich and immersive experience for the reader. A brilliant debut.
Kololo Hill begins in 1972 when Ugandan’s president, Amin, declares the expulsion of all Ugandan Asians. They are given 90 days to leave Uganda or become victim to possible rape, internment and death.
The effect of this brutal, political climate is beautifully drawn as the Ugandan Asian family in Kololo Hill come fully to grips with what they are about to lose. As the pages turn, the growing menace is woven into the rich tapestry of family life in all its day-to- day intricacy. The culinary details are a particular delight as are the descriptions of Uganda, the colourful saris, and landscape.
These sensuous details bring to life the hot and spice filled air of Uganda, marking the loss of it when the family exile to Britain, to a cold winter and a British diet.
I loved the characters, comprising newly married Pran and Asha, Pran’s brother and Pran’s parents. Shah explores the dynamics of these relationships with great sensitivity. Asha and Pran’s marriage is already complicated by the keeping of secrets and this plays beautifully into the growing tensions. I particularly enjoyed Jaya, Pran’s mother, and the layered relationship she had with their loyal houseboy.
The plot moves at a satisfying pace but pauses sufficiently, where necessary, to enrich the sense of place and character. Shah brought the novel to its end point with authenticity and a sense of what the future would hold for all concerned.
All in all, this is a fabulous, beautifully written and fascinating read from a talented author to watch out for. Uganda, the characters and the growing menace of the soldiers will stay with me for a long time.
Kololo Hill begins in 1972 when Ugandan’s president, Amin, declares the expulsion of all Ugandan Asians. They are given 90 days to leave Uganda or become victim to possible rape, internment and death.
The effect of this brutal, political climate is beautifully drawn as the Ugandan Asian family in Kololo Hill come fully to grips with what they are about to lose. As the pages turn, the growing menace is woven into the rich tapestry of family life in all its day-to- day intricacy. The culinary details are a particular delight as are the descriptions of Uganda, the colourful saris, and landscape.
These sensuous details bring to life the hot and spice filled air of Uganda, marking the loss of it when the family exile to Britain, to a cold winter and a British diet.
I loved the characters, comprising newly married Pran and Asha, Pran’s brother and Pran’s parents. Shah explores the dynamics of these relationships with great sensitivity. Asha and Pran’s marriage is already complicated by the keeping of secrets and this plays beautifully into the growing tensions. I particularly enjoyed Jaya, Pran’s mother, and the layered relationship she had with their loyal houseboy.
The plot moves at a satisfying pace but pauses sufficiently, where necessary, to enrich the sense of place and character. Shah brought the novel to its end point with authenticity and a sense of what the future would hold for all concerned.
All in all, this is a fabulous, beautifully written and fascinating read from a talented author to watch out for. Uganda, the characters and the growing menace of the soldiers will stay with me for a long time.
December 4, 2020
A brilliant debut novel! I was drawn to this book by the title, having previously lived in Uganda. While I knew the history of Idi Amin expelling Asians from Uganda in the 1970s I have never come across a novel exploring what happened so I was intrigued. Shah does a wonderful job of explaining the history and also her descriptions of Uganda were spot on, I could picture Entebbe in particular very clearly and her use of Swahili and Luganda dropped in were great. What she did best however was bring out the human emotions of what it is like to loose everything and start over somewhere new, the ideas of home and belonging, what it is like to be in a new country. Very cleverly many comparisons were suitably drawn between the historical context of this novel and the refugee crisis today- from new arrivals being put in army barracks, the slurs and discrimination faced on a daily basis and what it is like to start all over. You can’t read this and not reflect at how as a society we need to do better. Very excited to see what Neema Shah writes next!
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for sending me an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for sending me an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
April 27, 2021
Two words — Loved It !
I am so happy I gave this genre a shot and this book proved out to be the best historical fiction I’ve read in a really long time. In all honesty, I was pretty ignorant about the history of expulsions of Asian minority from Uganda under the President of Uganda, Idi Amin.
A very powerful storyline — a family displaced from their home and struggling to get on with their new life continuously being haunted by the ghost of their pasts and mistakes they’ve made.
This book made me think. Made my heart ache. Made me read more in depth about the history it’s based on. The identity crisis that comes as a part of being a refugee, the heartache that arises from the loss of loved ones, the struggle to safeguard present relationships while trying to figure out “why me?”
This book is a solid 5 stars for me. Highly recommended.
I am so happy I gave this genre a shot and this book proved out to be the best historical fiction I’ve read in a really long time. In all honesty, I was pretty ignorant about the history of expulsions of Asian minority from Uganda under the President of Uganda, Idi Amin.
A very powerful storyline — a family displaced from their home and struggling to get on with their new life continuously being haunted by the ghost of their pasts and mistakes they’ve made.
This book made me think. Made my heart ache. Made me read more in depth about the history it’s based on. The identity crisis that comes as a part of being a refugee, the heartache that arises from the loss of loved ones, the struggle to safeguard present relationships while trying to figure out “why me?”
This book is a solid 5 stars for me. Highly recommended.
February 15, 2022
Multiple viewpoints explore the importance of homeland and what it means to belong. This is a topical novel with 2022 being the fiftieth anniversary of the expulsion of Asians from Uganda by Idi Amin. Why do some people settle for a safe family life while others cling to memories of before? Is it possible to really make a fresh start in a new country or is the draw of the known and familiar too strong? This beautifully written novel answers these questions.
February 17, 2021
Historical novel about a dark chapter in Uganda's history, told through the eyes of those impacted. Very much a personal story, rather than a political one, it was well told, though a little more clarity around the historical detail would have helped me.
June 4, 2022
CW/TW: assault, attempted rape, death, graphic violence, micro-aggressions, racism, misogyny
In August 1972, Ugandan military leader Idi Amin ordered the expulsion of his country's Asian minority. They had to leave - in some cases, the only country they had ever known - within 90 days.
Neema Shah's "Kololo Hill" is set in 1972 Uganda, through the eyes of newlyweds Asha and Pran and mother Jaya. As violence builds in the capital, the family flees to Britain, where a different type of violence welcomes them: racism. Straddling two different albeit interlinked worlds, Shah crafts the story of a family who is forced to leave their home, start over, and then wonder if it was worth it - given the lukewarm welcome they've received. Throughout this ordeal, the reader is kept in the dark about a secret that threatens to upheave the tenuous new life they've created.
Reading Kololo Hill was harrowing and emotionally uncomfortable. For those who are unfamiliar with this chapter of Ugandan history, I highly recommend reading a bit about the context before diving into the novel. Shah's storytelling is achingly beautiful, and I was rooting for Asha the entire book, from her (no spoilers!) distressing encounter in Kampala, to her struggling to plant new roots in the UK, Shah's characters are sympathetic as they are unpredictable. Civil strife is heavily depicted in the first half of the story - reminiscent of the movie The Last King of Scotland - and I've included trigger warnings above for this reason. I highly recommend this to historical-fiction enthusiasts, as it explores an under-represented part of European/African history, as well as highlights the dangers of modern-day military regimes and the insidious legacy of colonialism.
Thank you Book Break UK, Neema Shah, and Picador Books for this proof in exchange for an honest review.
In August 1972, Ugandan military leader Idi Amin ordered the expulsion of his country's Asian minority. They had to leave - in some cases, the only country they had ever known - within 90 days.
Neema Shah's "Kololo Hill" is set in 1972 Uganda, through the eyes of newlyweds Asha and Pran and mother Jaya. As violence builds in the capital, the family flees to Britain, where a different type of violence welcomes them: racism. Straddling two different albeit interlinked worlds, Shah crafts the story of a family who is forced to leave their home, start over, and then wonder if it was worth it - given the lukewarm welcome they've received. Throughout this ordeal, the reader is kept in the dark about a secret that threatens to upheave the tenuous new life they've created.
Reading Kololo Hill was harrowing and emotionally uncomfortable. For those who are unfamiliar with this chapter of Ugandan history, I highly recommend reading a bit about the context before diving into the novel. Shah's storytelling is achingly beautiful, and I was rooting for Asha the entire book, from her (no spoilers!) distressing encounter in Kampala, to her struggling to plant new roots in the UK, Shah's characters are sympathetic as they are unpredictable. Civil strife is heavily depicted in the first half of the story - reminiscent of the movie The Last King of Scotland - and I've included trigger warnings above for this reason. I highly recommend this to historical-fiction enthusiasts, as it explores an under-represented part of European/African history, as well as highlights the dangers of modern-day military regimes and the insidious legacy of colonialism.
Thank you Book Break UK, Neema Shah, and Picador Books for this proof in exchange for an honest review.
February 20, 2021
Novel set in 1970s UGANDA / LONDON
I remember Idi Amin from the news. I was just old enough to observe his corpulent face on the TV bulletins and comprehend the kind of man he was, namely a vile and cruel despot. His moniker was “The Butcher of Uganda”. I also understood the implications of his diktat that Ugandan Asians should leave the country within 90 days.
This may be the story of one fictional family but it represents the universal experience of those who are forced to relocate and make their homes elsewhere. The author explore the notion of home and roots and how a fundamental uprooting can have a devastating ripple effect, well, across generations. She also looks at racism, part of Ugandan society and of course an inevitable facet in England.
The family had a good business in Kololo Hill in Kampala, run by the younger members. Motichan and Jaya originally hailed from India and now, together with their sons Pran and Vijay – and Pran’s wife Asha – they are subject to the whims of a megalomaniac. As the book opens, Asha stumbles across bloody of evidence of the lengths Amin’s forces to which they would go. Shock can often render people literally speechless and thus she keeps the vision of death and butchery to herself.Their future is now, however, sealed, the future is in London, which of course is so different (think Arnos Grove and a Ford Cortina) to Uganda.
As with every family, there are secrets and stresses that are just waiting to be revealed. The author explores what it takes to find a new foothold and ultimately love and connection within the broader family unit.
Uganda comes alive in the capable hands of the author, the smells, the feel and the food, and in England their experience is, of course, discombobulatingly different. This is a soul searching exploration of cultural dislocation. A well crafted and thoughtful debut.
I remember Idi Amin from the news. I was just old enough to observe his corpulent face on the TV bulletins and comprehend the kind of man he was, namely a vile and cruel despot. His moniker was “The Butcher of Uganda”. I also understood the implications of his diktat that Ugandan Asians should leave the country within 90 days.
This may be the story of one fictional family but it represents the universal experience of those who are forced to relocate and make their homes elsewhere. The author explore the notion of home and roots and how a fundamental uprooting can have a devastating ripple effect, well, across generations. She also looks at racism, part of Ugandan society and of course an inevitable facet in England.
The family had a good business in Kololo Hill in Kampala, run by the younger members. Motichan and Jaya originally hailed from India and now, together with their sons Pran and Vijay – and Pran’s wife Asha – they are subject to the whims of a megalomaniac. As the book opens, Asha stumbles across bloody of evidence of the lengths Amin’s forces to which they would go. Shock can often render people literally speechless and thus she keeps the vision of death and butchery to herself.Their future is now, however, sealed, the future is in London, which of course is so different (think Arnos Grove and a Ford Cortina) to Uganda.
As with every family, there are secrets and stresses that are just waiting to be revealed. The author explores what it takes to find a new foothold and ultimately love and connection within the broader family unit.
Uganda comes alive in the capable hands of the author, the smells, the feel and the food, and in England their experience is, of course, discombobulatingly different. This is a soul searching exploration of cultural dislocation. A well crafted and thoughtful debut.
October 10, 2023
Kololo Hill intrigued me with its title and I have to admit that I had no idea about the expulsion of Indian people from Uganda. And the story did really touch me. The horror of living every day under threat just because you are who you are, isn’t easy. However, as a reader, I was not much satisfied with the narrative and story building style. I am sorry to say this but it felt like an amateur work of translation. The story was quite alright but I found the emotion missing in many places. There are many instances where the story seemed poorly built.
There are certain other things I found a bit off about the book. Almost zero timeline jump made the descriptions feel sloppy sometimes. I get it, it’s a debut novel and writing a good historical fiction is no easy work. But these are some of the things that I hope to get out of a historical fiction.
There are certain other things I found a bit off about the book. Almost zero timeline jump made the descriptions feel sloppy sometimes. I get it, it’s a debut novel and writing a good historical fiction is no easy work. But these are some of the things that I hope to get out of a historical fiction.
February 17, 2021
A devastatingly, beautiful book.
This debut novel commences in the year of 1972 in Uganda. Ugandan’s president, Amin, has declared the expulsion of all Ugandan Asians. They are given just 90 days to leave Uganda or face horrifying consequences. They could fall victim to things like rape, internment or even death.
The focus of the story is on one family.
They, like so many others are forced to flee their homes with much reluctance.
The question is can they find a way to stay together?
Unfortunately the choice is not theirs to make, they need to find refuge but not everyone has a valid passport and certainly not all to the same countries. An already heartbreaking situation is being made worse at the thought of being separated from the ones that they love.
Told from varying points of view, different family members. It was interesting to read just how they saw things, the differences in their opinions and the fairness of everything political and perhaps racial that they had to face and endure. There seemed to be differences between young and old, male and female. Their upbringings - generations - certainly playing a part.
What was refreshing was that each and every character was well-rounded, we were given the chance to really get to know them all, every person just as important as the rest. There were no supporting roles, they were all equal even though they were in-fact facing their own individual journeys.
Dynamics between the family members were a prominent feature, showing growing tensions between them all with each day that passed.
How do you learn to navigate new landscapes and languages, building alternative lives to the ones they've always known?
Neema has created a moving tale.
Every detail was enriching, I could truly imagine the scenery, the food (so tantalising) and the traditions they had built over the years.
The question that I found myself asking by the end is where do we truly call home? Is it the place that we live, the four walls the enclose us, the country in which we reside, a place that we hold dear in our hearts?
I'll be perfectly honest, before I read this novel I knew nothing of the expulsion of Asians from Uganda but upon finishing Kololo Hill, I feel well informed, but actually I think I'd now like to know more. This has given me a thirst for knowledge that I wasn't even aware I wanted to drink up before delving into this novel.
The author has created a tale that is unique, honest and poignant.
I look forward to being able to read more books from Neema Shah in the future.
This debut novel commences in the year of 1972 in Uganda. Ugandan’s president, Amin, has declared the expulsion of all Ugandan Asians. They are given just 90 days to leave Uganda or face horrifying consequences. They could fall victim to things like rape, internment or even death.
The focus of the story is on one family.
They, like so many others are forced to flee their homes with much reluctance.
The question is can they find a way to stay together?
Unfortunately the choice is not theirs to make, they need to find refuge but not everyone has a valid passport and certainly not all to the same countries. An already heartbreaking situation is being made worse at the thought of being separated from the ones that they love.
Told from varying points of view, different family members. It was interesting to read just how they saw things, the differences in their opinions and the fairness of everything political and perhaps racial that they had to face and endure. There seemed to be differences between young and old, male and female. Their upbringings - generations - certainly playing a part.
What was refreshing was that each and every character was well-rounded, we were given the chance to really get to know them all, every person just as important as the rest. There were no supporting roles, they were all equal even though they were in-fact facing their own individual journeys.
Dynamics between the family members were a prominent feature, showing growing tensions between them all with each day that passed.
How do you learn to navigate new landscapes and languages, building alternative lives to the ones they've always known?
Neema has created a moving tale.
Every detail was enriching, I could truly imagine the scenery, the food (so tantalising) and the traditions they had built over the years.
The question that I found myself asking by the end is where do we truly call home? Is it the place that we live, the four walls the enclose us, the country in which we reside, a place that we hold dear in our hearts?
I'll be perfectly honest, before I read this novel I knew nothing of the expulsion of Asians from Uganda but upon finishing Kololo Hill, I feel well informed, but actually I think I'd now like to know more. This has given me a thirst for knowledge that I wasn't even aware I wanted to drink up before delving into this novel.
The author has created a tale that is unique, honest and poignant.
I look forward to being able to read more books from Neema Shah in the future.
April 21, 2022
"She tried to think back to what it was like to be young, to have the kind of dreams that Vijay now had, but her youth had been so different from his. Every journey in her own life had been forced on her: to Uganda, to England." - @neemashahauthor , Kololo Hill
If there is one historical fiction that I would highly recommend, then it is this. This is not the history that has been long forgotten, this is the history not many bothered to write or even talk about! Which makes this book all the more important to read!❤
Even though this is a fictional story, it is highly inspired by real-life incidents. More importantly, this is an own-voice book.
In 1972, a devastating decree was issued that all Ugandan Asians must leave the country in ninety days. More than 80,000 Asians had to leave their money, valuables, and what they called home.
Just to give you a background about why these Asians even went to Kampala, they didn't choose to go there, they were rather forced to go to Uganda by the British under indentured labor contracts to work on the construction of the Ugandan Railways.
In 1972, Idi Amin declared that Britain would need to take responsibility for the Asians who were brought to Uganda. Already there was a lot of hate against the Asians in Uganda, even though they had worked hard to rise in ranks and were contributing to the Ugandan economy, they were still threatened to leave Uganda as soon as possible.
Kololo Hill follows the journey of an Indian family that was also once brought to Uganda and had worked hard to establish a family business. During the expulsion, all they had was a family secret that could potentially tear the family apart.
I really loved that this book has chapters from every single character's point of view. This helped me to understand what that expulsion meant for different generations of the same family. Throughout the book, I could feel the fear and pain of Jaya, Asha, Pran, and, Vijay. The author has done an amazing job in painting a complete picture, which is painful, gruesome, and heartbreaking, but a real story of the life of Ugandan Asians at that time.
If there is one historical fiction that I would highly recommend, then it is this. This is not the history that has been long forgotten, this is the history not many bothered to write or even talk about! Which makes this book all the more important to read!❤
Even though this is a fictional story, it is highly inspired by real-life incidents. More importantly, this is an own-voice book.
In 1972, a devastating decree was issued that all Ugandan Asians must leave the country in ninety days. More than 80,000 Asians had to leave their money, valuables, and what they called home.
Just to give you a background about why these Asians even went to Kampala, they didn't choose to go there, they were rather forced to go to Uganda by the British under indentured labor contracts to work on the construction of the Ugandan Railways.
In 1972, Idi Amin declared that Britain would need to take responsibility for the Asians who were brought to Uganda. Already there was a lot of hate against the Asians in Uganda, even though they had worked hard to rise in ranks and were contributing to the Ugandan economy, they were still threatened to leave Uganda as soon as possible.
Kololo Hill follows the journey of an Indian family that was also once brought to Uganda and had worked hard to establish a family business. During the expulsion, all they had was a family secret that could potentially tear the family apart.
I really loved that this book has chapters from every single character's point of view. This helped me to understand what that expulsion meant for different generations of the same family. Throughout the book, I could feel the fear and pain of Jaya, Asha, Pran, and, Vijay. The author has done an amazing job in painting a complete picture, which is painful, gruesome, and heartbreaking, but a real story of the life of Ugandan Asians at that time.
April 23, 2022
Shah’s writing is as powerful as the subject and the theme. In an evocative and fluid manner, she highlights the essence of the story—home, the sense of belonging, loss, and survival. The story traverses between the past and present in a disjointed manner.
Jaya, Asha, and Vijay narrate the story in parts. And as their lives unravel in front of our eyes, we become an integral part of their narration. Each character views life from a different lens, and their varied viewpoints add to the strength of the novel. But the differences in their views mellow down in front of their underlying emotion and desire–to feel connected to a place, a home. All the characters are complex, well fleshed, and depict the ethos of the era the story is set in. Asha is my favourite character in this novel. She is strong, assertive, and unwilling to give up without a fight. Her character arc is quite satisfactory. Jaya’s relationship with December is warm and touching and shows the beauty of human ties.
Shah has deftly dealt with displacement, identity crisis, racial discrimination, and belonging. The transition between the two halves of the novel is not only in terms of location and people but also in terms of the emotions running underneath, and she depicts this with clarity and ease.
Another aspect of Shah’s writing style made this a memorable read for me—the feel and imagery. I felt I was a part of the narrative and was witnessing their lives from close quarters. The Gujarati traditions, culture, customs, and way of living are described in an authentic manner. Shah has also depicted the challenges and adjustments immigrants face in a foreign land, especially in terms of language and cultural shock in a succinct manner.
The ending however left me with unanswered questions, especially regarding December’s character, Asha’s future, Pran’s, and Vijay’s life going forward. But despite that, I enjoyed reading this treasure of a book.
Kololo Hill is a tragic and horrendous story. I wasn’t aware of this chapter from history, and I am glad I got to read this novel.
Rating 3.5/5
BLOG
Jaya, Asha, and Vijay narrate the story in parts. And as their lives unravel in front of our eyes, we become an integral part of their narration. Each character views life from a different lens, and their varied viewpoints add to the strength of the novel. But the differences in their views mellow down in front of their underlying emotion and desire–to feel connected to a place, a home. All the characters are complex, well fleshed, and depict the ethos of the era the story is set in. Asha is my favourite character in this novel. She is strong, assertive, and unwilling to give up without a fight. Her character arc is quite satisfactory. Jaya’s relationship with December is warm and touching and shows the beauty of human ties.
Shah has deftly dealt with displacement, identity crisis, racial discrimination, and belonging. The transition between the two halves of the novel is not only in terms of location and people but also in terms of the emotions running underneath, and she depicts this with clarity and ease.
Another aspect of Shah’s writing style made this a memorable read for me—the feel and imagery. I felt I was a part of the narrative and was witnessing their lives from close quarters. The Gujarati traditions, culture, customs, and way of living are described in an authentic manner. Shah has also depicted the challenges and adjustments immigrants face in a foreign land, especially in terms of language and cultural shock in a succinct manner.
The ending however left me with unanswered questions, especially regarding December’s character, Asha’s future, Pran’s, and Vijay’s life going forward. But despite that, I enjoyed reading this treasure of a book.
Kololo Hill is a tragic and horrendous story. I wasn’t aware of this chapter from history, and I am glad I got to read this novel.
Rating 3.5/5
BLOG
February 17, 2021
Kololo Hill. I finished it in two days. Why? Because Neema Shah is one of few who has given a voice to those whose stories haven’t been heard.
Not many books explore what it was like for Ugandan Indians under Idi Amin’s rule so it was interesting but also heartbreaking to find out more about this not-very-well-known period in history. Growing up, I had heard his name thrown around and I knew he was a bad person but I didn’t understand why. I also remember the day he died because when my parents discussed it, there was a feeling of relief which, even though I didn’t understand at the time, I never forgot.
The book is split into two parts. Part 1 follows the main family during their time in Uganda and Part 2 follows them after their arrival in London. While I enjoyed the book overall, Part 2 was probably my favourite. The plot slowed down a bit here but that paved the way for the characters to really develop. I’m shouting out Asha, who was hands down my favourite. She was a strong woman who stood up for herself. She defied the stereotypical Gujarati girl of that time period and I am here for that.
Because our family was taken out of a familiar environment (Uganda) and placed somewhere new, the way they coped with these changes and what these changes brought out in them became a huge driving force in the way that the story moved forward and I loved seeing how each of them reacted and adjusted. I could see so many faces of people I know through them all - the aunties who never really got to grips with English and the aunties that did, the elders who embraced living in the UK and the ones who just couldn’t quite manage it. It really made me appreciate and value what it means to migrate to a place you may not necessarily have ever envisioned yourself living in.
Neema’s exploration of identity, culture, migration and love is done in a digestible and well thought out way and I loved seeing my favourite foods, family & cultural traditions and language interspersed throughout the novel because #RepresentationMatters. Reading about African Indians felt comforting for me because of my own family’s migration from India to Kenya to England and it makes me wish I knew my own family’s history better.
Before I leave you, I’m going to ask you to read this book. African Indian history isn’t well known but it deserves to be.
Not many books explore what it was like for Ugandan Indians under Idi Amin’s rule so it was interesting but also heartbreaking to find out more about this not-very-well-known period in history. Growing up, I had heard his name thrown around and I knew he was a bad person but I didn’t understand why. I also remember the day he died because when my parents discussed it, there was a feeling of relief which, even though I didn’t understand at the time, I never forgot.
The book is split into two parts. Part 1 follows the main family during their time in Uganda and Part 2 follows them after their arrival in London. While I enjoyed the book overall, Part 2 was probably my favourite. The plot slowed down a bit here but that paved the way for the characters to really develop. I’m shouting out Asha, who was hands down my favourite. She was a strong woman who stood up for herself. She defied the stereotypical Gujarati girl of that time period and I am here for that.
Because our family was taken out of a familiar environment (Uganda) and placed somewhere new, the way they coped with these changes and what these changes brought out in them became a huge driving force in the way that the story moved forward and I loved seeing how each of them reacted and adjusted. I could see so many faces of people I know through them all - the aunties who never really got to grips with English and the aunties that did, the elders who embraced living in the UK and the ones who just couldn’t quite manage it. It really made me appreciate and value what it means to migrate to a place you may not necessarily have ever envisioned yourself living in.
Neema’s exploration of identity, culture, migration and love is done in a digestible and well thought out way and I loved seeing my favourite foods, family & cultural traditions and language interspersed throughout the novel because #RepresentationMatters. Reading about African Indians felt comforting for me because of my own family’s migration from India to Kenya to England and it makes me wish I knew my own family’s history better.
Before I leave you, I’m going to ask you to read this book. African Indian history isn’t well known but it deserves to be.
March 19, 2023
Asha is a newlywed woman living with her husband’s family in Kololo Hill, Kampala. Life for them as Asian Ugandans is very ordinary: managing the family business, visiting friends and going to the temple; believing the country’s problems aren’t their own. Until Idi Amin issues a decree expelling the country's Indian minority and giving them 90 days to leave the country.
The novel is narrated in third person through Asha, her mother-in-law Jaya and her brother-in-law Vijay who offer different perspectives on the expulsion and their subsequent life in London.
I read We Are All Birds of Uganda by Hafsa Zayyan two years ago and both books highlighted the racial and economic privileges Asians had over Black Ugandans referring to their subordinates as “boys”, “girls” or even worse. However, Zayyan depicted that today Asians in Uganda still see themselves as superior and still enjoy said privileges usually at the expense of Ugandans (as a Kenyan, I can definitely relate to this).
If anything, this book made me want to read about Idi Amin’s dictatorship from a Black author or a Black perspective.
This was a promising debut novel.
The novel is narrated in third person through Asha, her mother-in-law Jaya and her brother-in-law Vijay who offer different perspectives on the expulsion and their subsequent life in London.
I read We Are All Birds of Uganda by Hafsa Zayyan two years ago and both books highlighted the racial and economic privileges Asians had over Black Ugandans referring to their subordinates as “boys”, “girls” or even worse. However, Zayyan depicted that today Asians in Uganda still see themselves as superior and still enjoy said privileges usually at the expense of Ugandans (as a Kenyan, I can definitely relate to this).
If anything, this book made me want to read about Idi Amin’s dictatorship from a Black author or a Black perspective.
This was a promising debut novel.
April 12, 2023
This family drama set amidst the Asian expulsion in 1970s Uganda is a beautifully written character-driven story about the experience of being a refugee. At first a slow burn, KOLOLO HILL draws readers in with its richly imagined, profoundly human characters all of whom have different opinions about how to deal with the experience of being banished from their homeland. I loved how the story focused in on Asha, Vijay and Jaya, three members of a family who find refuge in England. The author's explanation of her creative and research processes at the end of the book was also very detailed and informative. So glad I went the extra mile to get a copy of this book. It is a very worthwhile read!
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February 26, 20213.5/5
I always admire fiction that can illuminate a lesser-known part of history while also managing to tell a compelling and very human story. Author Neema Shah in Kololo Hill throws light on a very difficult and tumultuous time in Ugandan history when people of Asian descent were forced to exit the country within a 90 day period under the order of a dictatorial regime. There’s a very interesting commentary on social class and hierarchy, on why Indians migrated over to Uganda and how they assumed a superior social standing once the British had left Uganda. Kololo Hill, in and of itself is synonymous with this implied hierarchy where the higher you go up the hill, the richer and more influential are its residents. Through the lens of a small family running a store business, Jaya and Motichand, their sons Pran and Vijay, and Pran’s wife Asha, you follow the circumstances and their lives thrown amok when the country they’ve considered home becomes inhospitable. I appreciate the effort the author takes to present a balanced perspective, the class divide and rift between Asians and Ugandans further exacerbated by the growing disparity between the rich and poor. I wished that aspect was explored in further detail. The period specificities, music, food and the intermixing of cultures, Indian and Ugandan was very well done. The writing is fluid, evocative and very readable. A minor quibble is that I did find the pacing slightly uneven. The second half when the family immigrates to the UK meanders ever so slightly compared to the first half which I felt was a tighter narrative. I had the privilege of attending the author event which the publisher very kindly invited me to, along with sending a copy of this book. Listening to the author speak of the research that went into the book, her own family history and how this story came to be created an even richer reading experience. It is a moving story of displacement, immigration, identity and belonging and one I’d certainly recommend.
I always admire fiction that can illuminate a lesser-known part of history while also managing to tell a compelling and very human story. Author Neema Shah in Kololo Hill throws light on a very difficult and tumultuous time in Ugandan history when people of Asian descent were forced to exit the country within a 90 day period under the order of a dictatorial regime. There’s a very interesting commentary on social class and hierarchy, on why Indians migrated over to Uganda and how they assumed a superior social standing once the British had left Uganda. Kololo Hill, in and of itself is synonymous with this implied hierarchy where the higher you go up the hill, the richer and more influential are its residents. Through the lens of a small family running a store business, Jaya and Motichand, their sons Pran and Vijay, and Pran’s wife Asha, you follow the circumstances and their lives thrown amok when the country they’ve considered home becomes inhospitable. I appreciate the effort the author takes to present a balanced perspective, the class divide and rift between Asians and Ugandans further exacerbated by the growing disparity between the rich and poor. I wished that aspect was explored in further detail. The period specificities, music, food and the intermixing of cultures, Indian and Ugandan was very well done. The writing is fluid, evocative and very readable. A minor quibble is that I did find the pacing slightly uneven. The second half when the family immigrates to the UK meanders ever so slightly compared to the first half which I felt was a tighter narrative. I had the privilege of attending the author event which the publisher very kindly invited me to, along with sending a copy of this book. Listening to the author speak of the research that went into the book, her own family history and how this story came to be created an even richer reading experience. It is a moving story of displacement, immigration, identity and belonging and one I’d certainly recommend.
February 16, 2021
4.5
I really enjoyed this! Ashamed to say I didn’t know much about the Asian expulsion in Uganda and feel pleased to have read this fictionalised account. I liked all perspectives but particularly Vijay’s and Asha’s. I also really liked the ending.
Half of a Yellow Sun vibes. Definitely recommend.
I really enjoyed this! Ashamed to say I didn’t know much about the Asian expulsion in Uganda and feel pleased to have read this fictionalised account. I liked all perspectives but particularly Vijay’s and Asha’s. I also really liked the ending.
Half of a Yellow Sun vibes. Definitely recommend.
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