‘Qweshunga’ is a word which comes from Runyankole-Runyakitara to mean ‘play’, which would conventionally evoke images of childhood games, bouncing castles or moments of amusement. But Penelope Sanyu is using her creativity to give it a fresh twist, arguing that even adults need the time to play, surrender to curiosity as they connect. At the new space called Qweshunga Book Bar, adults are welcome to bounce on castles, play board games and basically bring out the child in them in the gardens. There is a library where they can read a book, enjoy wine, sip on coffee or tea or simply sit and work. There is also a sanctuary for anyone looking for a place of solace to connect with themselves or reflect.
‘I wanted to reclaim play as something that is not luxury. I wanted to reclaim it as a lifeblood for curiosity, relationship building, mental well-being and connection,’ says Sanyu, a lawyer-cum creative.
It is an unusual mission for a lawyer. Then again, she has never been interested in fitting neatly into conventional definitions. She describes herself as a lawyer, feminist, author, entrepreneur and child of God. She leads the Qweshunga Initiative, founded Femme Forte Uganda and now serves as curator of the Qweshunga Book Bar. They are different but united by a common thread of creating spaces where people can thrive.
Inspiration
The idea of Qweshunga was born from a simple observation where society encourages children to play but discourages adults from doing the same. As children, people are told to run, laugh, imagine and explore because play is seen as essential to development. Yet somewhere along the journey to adulthood, play becomes associated with irresponsibility.
‘We become adults and we are told playing is unserious. Playing is not for adults. You are being unreasonable. You are being unprofessional,’ she says.
Sanyu believes that mindset comes at a cost. The loss of play, she argues, often leads to the loss of wonder, creativity and emotional well-being. The more serious people become, the more disconnected they risk becoming from themselves and from others.
She argues: ‘The more you play, the freer you are.’
Her determination to restore that freedom gave birth to the broader Qweshunga movement, which organises annual adult play festivals complete with trampolines, bouncing castles and traditional childhood games.
Freedom
Participants are encouraged to leave behind job titles and responsibilities for a day and simply play. Yet the Book Bar may be her most ambitious expression of the idea because books occupy the centre of the space, both literally and philosophically. The creative’s love affair with reading began years ago when books began shaping her worldview. She wants others to have access to the same transformative experience and hence the result is a library stocked largely from donations and her personal collection. The beauty is that visitors can browse and read without paying. For Sanyu, that decision is also a challenge to another persistent stereotype.
‘You have heard people say that if you want to hide a thing in Africa, hide it in books. For me, this is a resistance to that narrative,’ she explains.
She also rejects the notion that Ugandans do not read. Instead of complaining about declining reading culture, she has chosen to create a place where reading is celebrated, accessible and woven into community life. The free books are intended to help people ‘free their minds from the shackles that hold them.’ Of course, free books alone do not sustain a business. The challenge was finding a model that could keep the doors open while preserving access to literature. Her solution was to blend books with coffee and wine.
‘You are either reading a book with a cup of tea or a cup of coffee, or you’re reading a book with a glass of wine,’ she says.
Activities
The venue also includes gardens for conversation, spaces for poetry and music events, and even a prayer wall where visitors can leave requests or messages of gratitude. These features reveal another side of Sanyu’s thinking.
The space is about reading and restoration. Although legally trained, Sanyu says her work rarely resembles traditional courtroom practice.
‘I am the lawyer who fights for people’s rights. I am the lawyer who speaks up against injustice,’ she explains.
For her, promoting mental health, literacy and human dignity is a form of advocacy. Creating spaces where people can heal, learn and connect is another way of pursuing justice.
Revenue model
Revenue from the café, wine bar, co-working spaces and podcast studio helps cover operational costs while allowing visitors to continue enjoying free access to books. It is a social enterprise model designed to ensure that the mission survives beyond good intentions. The venue also includes gardens for conversation, spaces for poetry and music events, and even a prayer wall where visitors can leave requests or messages of gratitude. These features reveal another side of Sanyu’s thinking. The space is about reading and restoration. Although legally trained, Sanyu says her work rarely resembles traditional courtroom practice.
‘I am the lawyer who fights for people’s rights. I am the lawyer who speaks up against injustice,’ she explains.
For her, promoting mental health, literacy and human dignity is a form of advocacy. Creating spaces where people can heal, learn and connect is another way of pursuing justice. Perhaps that is why Qweshunga resonates beyond its literal meaning. What began as a word meaning ‘play’ has evolved into a philosophy about what it means to be fully human, and she inviting people to rediscover it, one book, a conversation and moment of play at a time.