Sometimes people mistake the way I talk for what I am thinking' - Idi Amin BOBBY WILLIAMSON is the new king of Kampala. It has been a curious, even incomprehensible, coronation. The Scottish Football Association have been criticised for sanctioning an intrepid start to World Cup qualification, with back-to-back away matches against Macedonia and Iceland. Yet, next week, Williamson will make his formal introduction to the Ugandan national team before embarking on a 10-hour plane journey to Niger.

Williamson's posting to the African country, as replacement for the new Hearts manager, Csaba Laszlo, has been a bizarre episode. The former Kilmarnock manager is often unconventional yet he has excelled himself with this latest diversion in a chaotic career.

It is a long way to go for acceptance. Williamson, intentionally or otherwise, has distanced himself from the Scottish scene by cultivating a comical carmudgeonly streak. It provides a convenient defence mechanism for a man who claims to be impervious to any media comment, critical or complimentary, yet whose brusque facade belies sensitivity and, perhaps, insecurity. A man not so long ago predicted to be a future Scotland manager by Craig Brown instead finds himself in the land of Swahili.

"The change is massive," he said down the crackly line of a long-distance telephone call. "Sometimes I have to pinch myself to confirm I am actually in Africa: I never thought I would be plying my trade out here. I knew it would be a big change but I didn't expect it to be this big. There is a lot of poverty in the place. It is hard to look at at times but I'd rather just get on with it ..."

It is a Williamson trait to veer away from journalistic juice' with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. "I'm not going to get into cultural differences when I'm just here," he said when asked to describe his new surroundings.

Wikitravel reveals that Kampala, Uganda's capital city, has a population of over 1m. According to United Nation statistics, it has the highest rate of alcohol consumption in the world and is a beacon of success in tackling the HIV virus, which at one stage affected 15% of the country's population.

On a lighter note, visitors can bungee jump into the Nile and travel by boda-boda; a ubiquitous bicycle taxi. Williamson is unlikely to do either. He even resisted the temptation to watch The Last King of Scotland, the tale of Idi Amin's relationship with the Scots medic who became his personal physician, before flying into Entebbe.

"I didn't want to have any preconceived ideas," he said. He did, however, contact his predecessor, Laszlo. "I spoke to him briefly when he was in Germany. He returned my call but I didn't gain anything from it. It was not in-depth."

Williamson was vague on his arrangement with the UFA - "I don't ask you about your contractual situation, do I?" - but initial reports suggest he must win both qualifiers against Niger and Benin to automatically activate a two-year contract. He was, however, more expansive on the wider challenge ahead.

"They have no coaching infrastructure," he said. "So what I am trying to do is replicate what is happening in Scotland. People might mock the Largs Mafia but it seems to be working with the number of young players who have broken through."

However long Williamson's African adventure lasts, it is likely to prove a journey of self-discovery. It may even make his heart grow fonder. Put bluntly, Williamson's managerial chart peaked at Rugby Park and, while work has not always been in short supply, it is doubtful if he has achieved similar satisfaction to the early days. He won the Scottish Cup in his first season and cultivated a reputation as one of the country's most promising - and, believe it or not, most likeable and accommodating - young coaches. He made European football a staple diet for the Ayrshire club, while bringing glamour to Kilmarnock in the shape of Ally McCoist, Ian Durrant and Christophe Cocard.

Then, throughout a fractious association at Hibernian, his friendly disposition began to wane in direct correlation with results. Embittered by the experience, and consumed by what was initially a moody caricature, Williamson headed to Plymouth Argyle.

Contentment was again short-lived and failure to impact on the Coca-Cola Championship prompted a parting of ways. A similar story unfolded at Chester and despite helping out as part of the SFA scouting network, Williamson has been unable to find an appealing opening in Scotland. "I am aware of the realism of football," he said. "If there's no job available, there's no job available, I can't expect somebody to be fired just to get me a job."

Next week, he will name a 22-man squad and his work as a Scottish football missionary will begin in earnest. "The job is the same whether you are in Scotland, England or Uganda," he said. "You are employed to win matches and improve players. The biggest problem is the language. Most speak English but I have only just realised that my type of English - Scottish - is nothing like what they are used to. They can't understand me so they have a translator to help out when people start to get starry-eyed. I tell them I talk fast because I think fast."