While in Uganda, I repeatedly asked our host partner, Moses Owori, for the word ‘smile’ in Lusoga. ‘Sekako’, he told me. Over and over … I’d hear it but spit something different out of my mouth: ‘Sikayo’ … ‘Sickaku’ … ‘Sykuku’. A simple three syllables but I mangled it every time. I was hopeless. But the results were brilliant. My Ugandan subjects thought the way I butchered their language was hilarious. I’d get my nice smiles in the end. No one found more hilarity with my speech impediment than Annet in…

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