7am, Adjumani

There’s no rest for the wicked. Otis Redding singing ‘Cigarettes and Coffee’ as I packed my bag. The sun has just reached above the trees and already one of the cars has departed, and we are waiting to leave. Today’s rallies will be from here all the way to Amuru, a long way south, and there promises to be little rest from the choking heat.

Spectators watch Mao speak

Mao looks as though the campaign trail has toughened him, the softness of being in elected office stripped away by punishing days moving non-stop. But he’s a charismatic one, always a big grin, greeting by name and offering a firm handshake. Last night he bounded on to the stage brandishing a garden hoe painted in the colours of the Democratic Party, then posed with it on his shoulder as the crowd applauded.

His speeches are full of little stories and jokes, but the messages are clear. I’m not partisan in this election because I have no stake in it, but I enjoy listening to him. He spots an opposition candidate in the crowd and gently pokes fun at him. The candidate laughs, maybe because he doesn’t have a microphone.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

So this is the campaign. I’ll be shooting a documentary piece from now until election day, and whingeing about the heat as much as possible.

Mao's car arrives at the hotel.

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About Muzungu

I’m a Uganda-based freelance photographer (and occasional writer) working for a broad range of clients including NGOs, newspapers and magazines and development agencies. My work has taken me across East Africa, South America and Europe, and previous clients include USAID, the World Bank and the East African. I also work on personal documentary projects in my spare time. If you’d like to hire me or to know more, please feel free to get in touch.
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4 Responses to 7am, Adjumani

  1. petesmama says:

    I’m liking the bicycles pic.

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