The name Akello is a traditional name found amongst the Nilotes, an ethnic group whose history has been traced to Bahr el Ghazal, a region in South Sudan. The Nilotes migrated southwards into central and eastern Africa. Many beautiful dark-skinned women seem to be named Akello.
In Uganda, the name is popular in the northern part of the country, amongst the Acholi, one of the Luo peoples. In almost every county or district in East Africa, there is an Akello, but my Akello is a tall dark-skinned Acholi woman from Koch, Nwoya District.
I ran into her last year during Oktoberfest, a festival that brings different Ugandan cultures and tribes together. During Oktoberfest, traditional foods, dances, costumes, and storytelling are shared. Every year, people from across the country travel to the district where it’s held. It’s one of the occasions that excites whites and foreigners the most.
At this Oktoberfest, Akello performed the bwola dance, the royal dance of the Acholi people. A form of entertainment and as well a powerful expression of leadership, unity, identity, and respect for cultural heritage, the dance builds on precise rhythm and collective movement rather than individual virtuosity. Almost every man knows how to dance the bwola because it excites them, the reason being that you dance with ladies. That’s how I met Akello. I was full of excitement when her dance group started dancing. Her group was called Bwulu Yele Ayela, which means “youth who are just trying,” and they were from Koch.
She got my attention by how she captured the audience’s attention, shaking her waist and nodding her head while drums and flutes were being played. Really mood activating. It got me out of my seat and I joined them on the dance floor. I glanced at her as I danced closer to her to get her attention. She smiled at me when our eyes met, and that gave me the courage to make more moves.
The dances are always guided by the captain of the dance group, especially in the transitions between songs and dance moves. When I was ten years old, I stayed with my grandmother in the village of Koro during school holidays, and that’s how I got to learn how to dance these traditional dances. It was mandatory for every child to go to the dance practices organized by the traditional youth leaders every evening.
The aim of these dance practices was to bring communities and entire societies together and to learn about other cultures at an early age. It was so exciting to have these opportunities to learn. The children who grew up in cities usually never got the chance to learn these traditional dances. When you learn them at an early age, they enter into your soul and body to such an extent that even if you go more than ten years without performing them, you still don’t forget them and your moves can really surprise people.
When I got up to dance that day, I wasn’t worried about my dance moves, but my friends were, because they didn’t think I knew these traditional dances. We never talked about our childhoods, so it took them all by surprise. They all got up from their chairs and joined me in the dance. They didn’t know that my motive for dancing was to get Akello’s attention. I am glad they backed me up.
Even though my dance moves weren’t perfect because I hadn’t practiced for over a decade, I still managed to get her attention. I thought maybe my dancing wouldn’t be compelling enough for that. Maybe I just had high hopes because a lady smiled at me. I accompanied her group until their dance session ended. Afterwards, I went back to my tent to continue jazzing with my friends as we watched other people perform. But my heart never stopped racing. I couldn’t wait for the ceremony to end so I could look for this pretty dark-skinned girl.
Later that evening, when the sun was starting to set, I went looking for her. I asked my friend Ochan if he had seen the group of the dancers that I joined, since most of them were camping in nearby tents. He hadn’t, but he helped me with the search. We went around the whole place. I almost gave up on finding this black queen.
Then my eyes finally landed on her. She was behind a tent with a clique of girls, laughing and jazzing while drinking kwete, our traditional brew. The moment I set eyes on her, I became so frightened. My heart got heavy from the fear of approaching such a pretty woman. If I were alone, I am sure I would have run off, but my friend grabbed my hand tightly and whispered slowly in my ears, “Thomas, you can do this.”
I summoned the courage to walk up to the ladies. In a calm voice, I said, “Hey ladies, can I join you with my friend in taking the kwete?” They all turned, looked at us, and laughed. Then Akello said, “Yes, sure.”
I introduced myself, addressing myself mainly to Akello. I asked what her name was and where she was from. Smiling, she introduced herself. She was very composed, but not as shy as women are expected to be. She didn’t even hesitate to give me eye contact. We kept on talking, making random jokes and laughing. She was so charming that I asked for her phone number. Most women don’t give out their phone number on day one of meeting a man, but she didn’t hesitate, and that set my heart racing again.
It didn’t seem like we had spent much time together. But it was already late and people were departing. And I didn’t want to keep her away from her friends. I returned to my home in Kampala City. I gave her a call as soon as I got home, and that’s how our relationship started.
