Discovering Shabbat Through the Eyes of a Ugandan Jewish Child
I’lLL ADMIT, I read Slow Down, Shoshi! It’s Shabbat in Uganda, slower than I usually read children’s books because Shoshana Nambi’s gentle picture book isn’t in a rush to tell a big story. Instead, it invites you to pause, to breathe, and to notice the quiet beauty of Shabbat as it unfolds in an Abayudaya Jewish village in Uganda.
Through the eyes of little Shoshi, a curious and energetic girl, we see what happens when the workweek gives way to Shabbat. Shoshi doesn’t want to slow down at first. What is on her mind is to run and play. But however, her grandmother and the rhythm of her community have simply shown her one thing, which is the reality that Shabbat isn’t about stopping life. Rather, it’s about shifting its tempo.
The part that touched me most deeply was Shoshi racing against the setting sun as Shabbat approached. I could feel her excitement as she hurried to arrive in time for the candle lighting blessings, only to realise that she had forgotten to buy the Shabbat candles from the market. Here, we are able to see just how deeply rooted Jewish practice is within the Abayudaya community of Uganda. Her Jjajja (which means grandparent in the local language) teaches her that Shabbat candle lighting is not merely about the candles themselves:
“The light of Shabbat shows us that there is a light present in all of us. We bring this light into the world and share it with each other.”
Her Jjajja also explains that, in ancient times, Jews used oil lamps rather than candles, and she went ahead to use two special oil lamps in their home in place of candles for the Shabbat lighting. There are no frills here, no dramatic plot twists, but just warmth, togetherness, and the gift of stillness.
But the greatness of the book isn’t just in its message of mindfulness. It’s also about who gets to tell this story and where it takes place.
The Abayudaya Jews have been living and practicing Judaism in eastern Uganda for over a hundred years, blending their faith with the Luganda language and Ugandan culture. Yet their story rarely appears in children’s literature. Shoshana Nambi doesn’t treat their experience as exotic or exceptional. Instead, she shows that Shabbat in Mbale feels both ordinary and sacred.
I saw Jewishness side by side with Ugandan culture: challah beside matooke, prayers sung with African cadence, and children in kippot chasing one another across the red earth. For Jewish children of color, for African children, or for any child who has wondered whether their culture “fits” the image they see in books, Shoshi quietly says: You belong here too.
I must say that Moran Yogev did a great job; the illustrations deserve just as much attention as the words. Rich greens and warm terracotta tones capture the landscape without turning it into a postcard. I could almost feel the texture of wooden carts, the roughness of the clay earth, and the soft glow of Shabbat candles at dusk.
A child can see the contrast, without even reading the text—from the bright, busy energy of the week day, to the softer, golden calm of Shabbat. The art doesn’t just decorate the story. It carries it.
The tone is nurturing rather than didactic. Nambi doesn’t lecture children about rest or mindfulness. She lets the scenes do the teaching. The language is simple and lyrical, making it a lovely read-aloud for ages 4 to 8, and it works beautifully for both Jewish and interfaith families.
That said, the book doesn’t pause to explain every Jewish custom. Terms like “mitzvot” or “kiddush” appear without definition, which assumes some prior familiarity. For some readers, that might mean an adult steps in to fill in the gaps. But that’s also where the conversation begins.
Of course, the slow, meditative pacing won’t suit every child. If you’re expecting action or a fast-moving plot, this isn’t it. But that’s intentional. Slow Down, Shoshi! is less an adventure and more a grounding experience. It lingers instead of rushing. It reminds you that identity can be layered. One can be Ugandan and Jewish, local and global, modern and traditional without contradiction.
This book left me with a sense of calm I didn’t expect. In a world that rarely stops moving, there’s something radical about a story that asks us to do just that. For families wanting to broaden their children’s understanding of what Jewish life looks like around the world, Slow Down, Shoshi! is a beautiful place to start. It’s a visual hug, and occasionally, that’s precisely what we need.