In 1951, the beating heart of aviation in Africa was not in Nairobi, Khartoum, or Johannesburg — it was in Entebbe, Uganda. Crowned that year as Africa’s largest and most modern airport, the newly expanded Entebbe field stood proudly on the northern shores of Lake Victoria, just six kilometres southwest of the colonial administrative town. Here, on the water’s edge, surrounded by palm trees and red earth, the British Empire had planted its most ambitious aviation hub between Cape Town and Cairo. With its long, upgraded runway and strategic central location, Entebbe was being positioned not only as a key stopover — but as the new nerve centre of the continent’s north-south air traffic. The logic behind Entebbe’s rise was both geographic and technical. Nairobi, though growing in regional prominence, sat at 5,500 feet above sea level, making it too hot and too high for the delicate engines of the de Havilland Comet, the world’s first commercial jetliner set to revolutionize air travel. Entebbe, by contrast, offered the perfect middle ground — a lakeside runway with mild elevations and room for expansion. It was here that the British made a deliberate decision: to invest in an airport that could handle the next generation of aircraft and solidify their hold over the air routes spanning the continent. On 10 December 1951, the newly extended airport was formally unveiled in a ceremony that married imperial pride with local tradition. Acting Governor Mr. Potter officiated the event, flanked by a delegation that included the Kabaka of Buganda and his queen, both elegantly dressed in a show of support that blurred the lines between colonial rule and indigenous prestige. Beneath the tropical sun, speeches were made about progress and modernity. The new 3,300-yard (3,000 m) runway — the longest in Africa at the time — gleamed with promise, able to handle the mighty Comets that would soon link London to Johannesburg in record time. In its early years, Entebbe had been nothing more than a patch of grass cleared in 1929 for British military planes. But by 1951, murram and asphalt had replaced the dust, and radio towers now beamed signals into the African skies. Airlines like BOAC and South African Airways plotted their routes through Entebbe, making it the continent’s preferred layover — a modern miracle carved out of the equator. Imperial Airways had already used it in the 1930s, but this was a new era, one where jet engines would cut days off travel time and bring the empire closer together than ever before. The expansion of Entebbe Airport wasn’t just about aviation; it was about visibility and control. By choosing Entebbe over Nairobi, the British were quietly signalling Uganda’s rising value in their East African network. Here was a place more than symbolic — it was functional, dependable, and increasingly central. In 1951, Entebbe wasn’t just a stop — it was the centre of African air power, a crown jewel in Britain’s aerial empire, and the embodiment of how colonial ambition fused with modern technology to redraw the map of the skies. #knowafrica #uganda #entebbe #UCAA #ughistory #ugandanstiktok #entebbeairport #britishcolonialism - @ughistory