A Journey to Mutima: Where the Lake Breathes and Stories Flow What begins as a weekend escape across Lake Victoria turns into a meditation on movement, community, and the quiet power of reconnecting

It had been a minute since we last saw each other. But last Saturday, we decided to change that—with a boat ride and a trek to Mutima, a quiet stretch tucked within Mukono District’s Mpatta Sub-county. The sub-county lies among the Lake Victoria peninsulas, reachable from several landing sites around Kampala.

We chose Ggaba, famous for its deep-fried fish, potatoes, and ever-bustling market energy. There, we met Adam, my longtime friend and trusted boatman since 2018. In his early thirties, Adam has a calm, confident way of moving with the lake. His boats—always clean, always ready—feel like an extension of his spirit.

Our first stop was Kisinsi, a small fishing village slowly transforming into a quiet, boujee escape, with the newly opened Divine Spa and Lodge standing out against the shoreline. You can still feel the presence of the Blick and Butiko clans here—especially when you’re riding in Adam’s “Butiko” boat, named in their honor.

From Kisinsi, our group of six—Jeff, Tobi, Mac, Karen, Zuri, OT, and myself—began the climb toward Mutima Beach. The sunshine was perfect, the views endless. Leaving Kampala behind, you immediately feel the freshness—the unspoiled green of the hills, the openness of the lake air. Villagers waved as we passed, warm and welcoming in that effortless Ugandan way.

We followed the rocky paths, winding up and down the hill, talking, catching up, and soaking in the simplicity of the walk.

When we finally reached Mutima Beach, we were greeted by Brother Mugwanya Mark, guardian of the beach and founder of Sosolya Ndungu. His wide smile and warm embrace instantly made us feel at home. Moments later, Benzima joined us, glowing and radiant.

“Mother Nalubaale is taking care of me,” he said proudly, crediting his new fish diet, morning prayers, and the lake’s blessings.

“Oyo Mubiru na shea butter!” Brother Mugwanya shouted, laughing. “When the lake is cleansing, she gives us her ointments! That green cover on the lake—it’s not dirt, it’s healing. We call it Mubiru.”

His words hung in the air, like poetry from the water itself. “Nalubaale is fascinating,” he continued. “When you stop and breathe, she lets you in.”

We sat by the lake, sipping cold beers and sodas, listening to the waves, the wind, and the soft hum of stories being told. Soon, conversation turned to Skillz—our festival, our shared vision. Karen began walking us through every element of the event like she was conjuring it from memory. Ideas started to flow, inspired by the space, the calm, the connection.

Benzima offered to show us around Mutima Beach, and the walk naturally carried us toward the fishing village. Kids played by the water, adults eyed us with curiosity and hospitality. Together with Kato, we explored, talked, and brainstormed what could be next—for Skillz, for dance, for community.

As the sun began to set, the waves grew louder, almost like a reminder that it was time to head back. We wrapped up our final thoughts, shared quick hugs, and began the trek back toward Kisinsi. Tobi caught a boda, while the rest of us walked in quiet reflection.

As we walked back, more ideas and thoughts began to flow—quietly, almost in rhythm with the sound of our footsteps and the waves beside us. I kept thinking about the journey we had just taken, and how it mirrors the path of dance itself.

This season feels like one of reflection, retreat, and pause—a moment for dancers, creatives, and humans alike to slow down and reconnect with our source. To remember the divine calling that drives us, the purpose behind our movement, and the community that sustains it.

In many ways, Mutima reminded us of why the Skillz Dance Festival matters—because beyond the battles, the workshops, and the stage lights, it is about returning to that place of stillness and connection.

A place where movement becomes meaning, and the dance becomes prayer.

Written by Rique Orenia, following a weekend retreat to Mutima, Uganda — a journey that reawakened reflection, connection, and the quiet rhythm of purpose.