Writer: Brian Ssenoga Kimuli. PHOTO/FILE/COURTESY
In my village, we have a saying that goes, "You cannot convince a monkey that honey is sweeter than a banana." At first glance, it sounds like a joke, something you would hear around the fireplace in the village. But if you sit with it for a moment, you will find deep wisdom hidden inside. This proverb teaches us about human nature, about preferences, and more importantly, about the struggle of trying to change minds that are already made up.
I will tell you about the old man Kitumba. He was known for his thick plantations that stretched as far as the eye could see. One day, a team of young agricultural officers from Kampala, NARO to be specific visited Kitumba and told him, “Mzee, coffee farming is more profitable. It generally requires less work, stays for long and the coffee can fetch higher prices in the city and the world market. You could integrate your banana farming with coffee. To get an even better yield, you introduce beekeeping,” But Kitumba only laughed and said, “I know how to grow bananas.
That’s what my father did, and his father before him. Coffee? That is a lot of work, and the bees sting people.” No matter how much the officers explained about markets, health benefits, and sustainability, Mzee Kitumba held onto what he knew -bananas. In his world, bananas are not just food. They are tradition, security, and pride. You see, to him, coffee might be lucrative and honey might be sweet, but a banana is what he trusts. This is the heart of the proverb. In many parts of Uganda and Africa in general, we encounter this kind of mindset every day. In politics, education, religion, and even relationships.
Take politics, for instance. In some countries, people vote for the same leaders over and over again, even when nothing changes. You ask them, “Why do you keep voting for this person?” They respond, “He is our son,” or, “We have always supported him.” Even when you show them a better alternative, someone with a clear agenda, fresh ideas, and a vision for the community. It’s hard to change their minds.
To them, the familiar banana is safer than smelling the new, unfamiliar coffee and the sweeter honey. Or look at our education system. A student may be passionate about art, music, or tailoring, but their parents push them to become doctors or lawyers. "Those courses have no future," the parents say.
Yet we know people like Bobi Wine, who turned music into a political movement, or fashion designers from Kampala who now showcase their work internationally. Still, convincing a parent in rural Mbale that tailoring can feed a family is like trying to make a monkey enjoy honey more than a banana. Their world has taught them otherwise. But this proverb also teaches us patience.
You don’t force a monkey to like honey. You show it. Maybe one day the monkey will see another monkey enjoying honey and get curious. Maybe Mzee Kitumba will meet a neighbour who tried coffee farming and beekeeping and made some fortune. Change doesn’t always come through arguments or lectures
It comes through experience, examples, and time. Even in relationships, we see this. A woman might stay in a toxic marriage simply because that’s what her mother did, and her grandmother too. To her, the chaos is normal — it’s her banana. A well-meaning friend might try to introduce her to the “coffee and honey” of self-love and independence. But until she sees it for herself, until she tastes the honey in her own time, the banana will remain her preference.
You cannot convince a monkey that honey is sweeter than a banana. Not because it isn’t true, but because truth alone doesn’t always change minds. Culture, habits, fear, and familiarity all play a part. As Ugandans, we must learn to lead by example, to understand where others are coming from, and to know when to speak and when to wait. Only then can we begin to shift perspectives one banana at a time.
