By Ansinguza Shidrah Makerere University
It began with a restless excitement on a misty morning in Rukungiri. With our backpacks stacked and maps marked, a few friends and I having personally organized the trip hit the road during the Christmas holidays. Our route wound through the lush districts of Kanungu, Rubirizi, and Bushenyi, each one whispering its own secrets as we made our way toward the heart of our adventure: Kasese and Fort Portal. Four days ahead, three nights under unfamiliar stars, and countless moments waiting to etch themselves into memory. Little did I know, the road ahead would not only show me breathtaking beauty but awaken in me a calling: the urge to protect what I once only admired.
Day One: Lions in Trees and Salt in the Air
As we cruised through Rukungiri’s undulating hills, the sun teased the banana plantations with golden streaks. Our first major stop was the Ishasha sector of Queen Elizabeth National Park. The park whispered promises of wonder with every bird call and rustle.
Then it happened we spotted them Lions. In trees. Not just lounging posing like royalty, tails lazily flicking over fig branches. Our local guide, Bosco, explained how these tree-climbing lions were unique and increasingly vulnerable. Poaching and habitat loss threaten their population, he said, before showing us the GPS collars worn by some lions to help conservationists track them.
That night, we camped near the park boundary, with the distant roar of wildlife and crickets playing lullabies. Dinner was roasted goat, matoke, and a smoky groundnut sauce the kind that makes you forget city life. Around a campfire, we shared stories with rangers who spoke with fierce love about their work. Conservation here wasn’t theory. It was daily life.
Day Two: Salt, Culture, and Art that Speaks
At sunrise, we drove toward Lake Katwe, famed for its traditional salt mining. The lake shimmered like a giant silver platter. We met mothers and daughters extracting salt the same way their ancestors did. But now, they face new battles flooding, skin infections, and unpredictable weather patterns.
“It’s the climate,” one woman said, “it’s changing the lake.” At Kikorongo Cultural Center, I watched a group of girls perform a dance about water spirits. They wore skirts made of banana fibers and smiles wide as rivers. What caught my heart, though, was a boy sculpting elephants from soda cans and wire.
“This is my way of keeping the animals alive,” he said. His name was Sam, age 12. That night in Kasese town, we checked into a modest guesthouse, clean sheets and mountain views included. Dinner was luwombo meat wrapped in banana leaves served with a side of sweet, spiced pumpkin. A culinary hug.
Day Three: The Mountains That Breathe and Lakes That Whisper
The Rwenzoris stood like giants veiled in clouds as we left Kasese. They are called the “Mountains of the Moon” for good reason otherworldly, mystical. At Ruboni Community Camp, we hiked with a local guide named Moses, who knew every birdcall and tree by heart.
He showed us how villagers monitor forest health by observing bee patterns and butterfly migrations. “Nature tells us everything,” he said. “If you listen.”
As we approached Fort Portal, the land unfolded into a dreamscape of crater lakes Nyinambuga, Lyantonde, Kifuruka each one a mirror of the sky. We met an elder, Mama Ketty, who told us legends of spirits living in the lakes and how elders once forbade tree cutting near the shores.
“We don’t own this land,” she said. “We borrow it from our grandchildren.” We spent the night at a charming eco-lodge overlooking Lake Nkuruba, surrounded by black-and-white colobus monkeys and the soft chirping of cicadas. Dinner? Tilapia fresh from the lake, served with cassava fries and avocado salad. Heaven in every bite.
Day Four: Wetlands, Wonders, and the Woman in the Cave
On our final day, we visited the Bigodi Wetland Sanctuary. It was a living, breathing Eden home to over 200 bird species and 8 primates. Our guide, Joan, was passionate and funny, making us laugh with monkey impressions while teaching about eco-tourism and biodiversity.
But the moment that truly silenced us came at Amabere Ga Nyinamwiru Caves. Water dripped rhythmically from the limestone, echoing through the cavern like an ancient song. Legend says the stalactites are the breasts of a princess whose child would grow to be a great warrior.
My hand traced the cool, wet stone, and I felt something stir. In this cave, culture and nature were one. Sacred. Irreplaceable.
Final Reflections: When the Road Calls You Back
As we drove away from Fort Portal, my mind replayed it all the lions in trees, salt-washed hands, sculpted elephants, crater lake legends, and a sanctuary of birds.
This wasn’t just a trip. It was an awakening. Every encounter taught me that conservation is not a government program or a textbook word. It’s children creating art from trash. It’s rangers sleeping among lions. It’s women mining salt in harmony with the land. It’s stories passed down in caves.
I left Rukungiri curious. I returned inspired. And I know now I will go back. Not as a tourist. But as a storyteller. A conservationist. A believer. Because once you’ve seen nature speak, you can never un-hear its call.
About the Author
Ansinguza Shidrah a passionate traveler and student at Makerere University, deeply inspired by Uganda’s landscapes and local cultures. With a heart for storytelling and conservation, she hopes to use her voice to champion sustainable tourism across Africa.