Promises

De: Goretti Kyomuhendo

Narrado por: Nene Nwoko

From the award winning author of Waiting . . .

Promises are like tilapia from Lake Victoria—glittering, evasive . . . slippery.

From warm Kampala to gloomy London, Goretti Kyomuhendo's novel charts the joys and tribulations of Ajuna and her fiancé, Kagaba. Young, highly skilled, and ambitious, both are caught up in financial hardship in their native Uganda. When Kagaba leaves for the UK as an economic immigrant, Ajuna's happy, fulfilling relationship is under threat. And in the indifferent UK, Kagaba must battle the cold, and the cold shoulder of London.

Promises exposes the shadow world of illegal immigrants, and the creativity with which people in the legal margins rise to meet an inhumane system. But for both Kagaba and Ajuna, a glimmer of hope comes from unexpected quarters.

Populated with an expansive array of vibrant characters, Goretti Kyomuhendo's novel examines the promises we keep and those we break when relationships are profoundly tested by circumstance and twists of fate. It is a vivid tapestry of Ugandan family life, and catches the universal emotions of love, death, and betrayal.

©2025 Goretti Kyomuhendo (P)2025 Highbridge Audio

A tale of two cities

Reading Promises by Goretti Kyomuhendo felt like sitting down with an old friend and listening to stories that are both deeply personal and universally resonant. From the very first page, I was drawn into Ajuna and Kagaba’s world—a world shaped by love, longing, and the difficult choices that life sometimes demands of us.

What struck me most was how honestly the novel explores the promises we make—to ourselves, to those we love, and to the dreams we carry. Kyomuhendo doesn’t shy away from the messy realities of migration or the heartbreak that comes with separation. Kagaba’s journey as an undocumented immigrant in London is painted with such rawness that I found myself holding my breath, hoping for a moment of relief or hope. Meanwhile, Ajuna’s life in Kampala is equally compelling, filled with quiet strength and resilience.

One aspect that really stood out to me was how the novel quietly but powerfully exposes the double standards of patriarchy. There’s an unspoken permission that society gives men to stray, to break promises, and to seek comfort elsewhere—often with little consequence. Yet, when women even contemplate the same, the shame and judgment are swift and unforgiving. Kyomuhendo’s narrative doesn’t preach, but it invites us to reflect on how these gendered expectations shape the choices people make, and the pain that follows when love and loyalty are measured by such unequal standards.

Another thread that weaves through the novel is the presence of secrets and the burden of secrecy. Both Ajuna and Kagaba carry truths they cannot share, whether out of fear, shame, or the desire to protect those they love. The novel captures how secrets can be both a shield and a prison—offering temporary safety, but also deepening the distance between people. I found myself thinking about how secrecy shapes relationships, sometimes quietly eroding trust, sometimes holding things together when honesty feels too risky.

The writing is warm and inviting, yet unflinching in its honesty. I found myself reflecting on the ways distance tests relationships, and how sometimes, the promises we break are as significant as the ones we keep. The novel’s depiction of Ugandan family life and the “shadow world” of illegal immigrants is vivid and nuanced, making me care deeply about the characters and their fates.

By the end, I felt as if I had truly lived alongside Ajuna and Kagaba—sharing in their hopes, disappointments, and small victories. Promises is the kind of book that lingers, prompting you to think about your own promises and the ties that bind us, even across continents. It’s a story that stays with you, long after you’ve closed the final page.