Time has come to say goodbye........Mitra

When I was coming to Uganda I did not know what to expect. There were so many mixed emotions and feelings. I was scared, nervous, excited, and anxious to start my journey in Uganda, something that I had dreamed for a long time. 8 weeks passed by so fast and time is running out. Few more days and we have to say our good bye to our friends and colleagues in Masaka. As I am writing these words tears come to my eyes.
How can I explain Uganda especially Masaka and its people. Between all those sadness and heart breaking stories there is so much love here. Every time I close my eyes and think about people in Masaka the first thing that comes to my view is their lovely smile and great sense of humor. They are the greatest hosts that I have ever met. They don’t have much but what they have they share with each other and even strangers like us. I remember when I was sick for ten days; my supervisor would call me few times a day to ask me how I am doing. Just bare in mind that air time is very expensive. Every time I took a bottle of water to work my supervisor thanked me for taking car of myself, how amazing is that. I have learned so much from people here and I am deeply sad to say goodbye. I feel I have been here for ever. I don’t feel like a foreigner.
Children; I can’t say enough about children. Their manner and kindness is beyond comprehension. Before coming here I had never imagined myself working with children but strangely enough I can’t get enough of the children here. One day Ramen and I were at home, out of nowhere few of the children from the place we visited couple of days ago came to visit us. We had a bless. We played, danced, and made funny faces. It was so much fun. We gave them our cameras and they had so much fun taking pictures with them and posing for camera.
Truly Uganda is the peal of Africa. Every where you look is green and beautiful. There are many hills surrounding the city. Even the rain is enjoyable here because it is not cold. There are no words to explain the taste of pineapples, tomatoes and avocadoes here in Masaka. I wish you all could come and taste these delicious fruits. I will miss my Boda rides through the city and getting every body’s attention. I will miss our bargaining with the local business men that it was more of a fun and joke than a serious business deal. In my two months here I have not seen an angry or frustrated Ugandans; they all are calm and quiet. I have not seen anybody cutting each other off while driving and showing fingers or swearing at each other, they rather smile and say nothing. They are amazingly patient people. They take care of each other and care for their fellow Ugandans. I am sad to leave so much kindness and love behind. I am sad that I am not going to wave my hand to the children on my way home anymore. I am sad that I am not going to sit with the ladies in the hospital and practice my Luganda and make them laugh. I can’t get enough of their smiles. I have experienced through compassion here in Uganda and I am honored to meet people of Uganda and make friends with them. I hope I can come back in the future and visit my friends and the ones who thought me the true meaning of compassion, sharing, caring, and love.

Outreach with CRO - Adriana

**This post was written last week. Due to some events and computer issues it was posted today….

My time here is Masaka is quickly coming to an end. I have only one week left until I leave Masaka and say good bye to CRO. It will be the most difficult to say good bye to the children and youth with whom I have been spending my days with. There is something very different and special amongst these youth and they have shown me things and ways of life that I have never experienced at home. It has been a real privilege to be able to share space and time in their city and their center. Their smiles are contagious and often shown, even when perhaps one may think there is nothing to smile about. Their enthusiasm for schooling and the sense of communal living is very prevalent amongst the children and youth that I have met. Their endurance to keep moving and push ahead is very inspiring, even though most have no parents at home to tell them to do so; and most often they do not even have a home to go back to. While street life for the youth has shown to be a very tough and exploitive experience, I have heard many stories in which they take care of each other and often travel together; in body and in spirit.
Over these past couple months I have been exposed to a variety of things with CRO and have gotten to see how some of their processing works. I have noticed many similarities here at CRO in regards to the work done and the problems the youth face compared to the work and the issues at home (in regards to working with street youth).

One similarity that I feel is very important for the work here and back home is the outreach component. During my stay with CRO I have had a couple opportunities to go out with the social workers into the community for a number of different reasons. My first out reach, as mentioned before in the Girls and Grasshppers Blog, was for a “slum walk” in the streets of Nyendo. That was most eye opening. It was especially interesting for me to observe the social worker speak with a “boss” of one particular young lady. It reminded me of my work at home in terms of exploited youth and the struggle to survive on the streets. Similarly to back home, many of the street girls here in Masaka are picked up by other people to work as sex trade workers. I have been told that this is a major problem with the girls on the streets and also one reason as to why the street girls are not as noticeable as the boys are. Not only are these street girls getting picked up to be put into sex trade but they are also taken in as house girls and maids. That was one difference that I noticed between here and at home; I am unaware of teenage girls back home becoming house girls in efforts to survive.

Another outreach opportunity that I had been to assist in taking a male youth to the psychiatric ward at the hospital up the street; Masaka Referral Hospital. Luckily for me my colleagues were working at the hospital and I have already had some experience spending time there. The hospital can prove to be rather shocking at first for someone who has never been. The boy, lets call him Steve, was displaying some rather odd and unusual behaviors while at the center. These behaviors had been present during even his first visits there and the staff was unsure what was going on with him. I had noticed his behaviors right away as well. In regards to confidentiality I will not go into details concerning his behaviors, other than they were strong enough to warrant a visit to the psychiatric ward at the hospital. When we arrived at the ward with the youth, and his friend (CRO requested that we bring his only friend with him as it will provide an easier transition to get him there and for him to speak to the doctors) the ward was filled with people waiting to see the doctor, along with, waiting to get their medications. After a bit of wait we were in with the doctor. In the office there were the two boys, the doctor, the social worker, myself and another volunteer from CRO. This seems to be a lot of people in one office for this kind of important visit, although it was allowed and I am under the impression that it may be normal to have many people in the office during a visit with the doctor; sometimes it’s even the person or people who are next in line. Privacy here appears to be a little different than at home. So during this meeting I was able to observe the intake process along with the diagnosis and administration of medications. After approximately 1 hour with the doctor, the youth was diagnosed with conduct disorder along with alcohol and drug abuse and was prescribed two different types of medications. The doctor also said that it appears this youth may be experiencing signs and symptoms that will lead into schizophrenia as he matures. To be honest, I left the meeting rather confused with the process and the diagnosis, but I understand that I am a foreigner here and I am not privy to a lot of things in terms of certain processes and cultural understandings. I can have my own ideas and opinions that are based on my experiences and comparisons from back home, but I know that they are not good here as this is a completely different way of life. After speaking with the social worker though, it seemed to me that he also did not fully understand how this youth got these diagnoses. He told me that he does not think the youth abuses drugs and that the youth was honest about his alcohol use which was described as very infrequent and little. I thoroughly enjoyed this one time experience and wished there was an opportunity to spend more time with a psychiatric doctor who works with youth. But unfortunately, if a youth is suffering from any form of mental illness, there is no youth psychiatric ward; they are put in and assessed with the adults.

Another outreach visit that I took part in was a follow up home visit. After the youth is successfully placed back in the home of a relative or parent, the social worker will conduct follow up visits to monitor the situation. When a child is resettled in a home, CRO will provide funding for the child or youth to continue schooling which also helps alleviate some of the financial pressures that may be placed on the relative for taking the child in. This is another reason why CRO will conduct follow up visits, because they want to ensure that the child or youth is attending school and has not gone back to work on the streets. It has also been stated that on occasion CRO will offer little financial supplements for the family to help with the stressors of extra costs for having the child. On top of this, the family members are allowed to access health care services from the Nurse at CRO at no cost. So I was able to take part in a follow up visit for a youth that was re settled with his grandfather 45 minutes away outside of Masaka District in a neighboring district and village. (A district here could be compared to a large city back home with different regions – or villages as called here.) At first I was surprised to see that CRO will work so far outside of Masaka town (town, not district – there is Masaka District (ie large city) and then Masaka town which is a town inside the district (where we live)) But then I was told that they will travel far away, even outside of Masaka district, if that is what is needed to re settle a ‘child in the home of a relative’. (Sounds a bit familiar?) Like home, CRO works towards sending the kids back home to a relative or family member. I was told that CRO does not believe in setting up group homes for the streets kids to live in because then they will never go back home – and the main purpose of CRO is to “restore and reconcile them with God and with their families”. This is another example of how ingrained the sense of communal living and the importance of families are shown [to me] here in Masaka. The families may need to be reminded, as said by CRO, that their responsibility is to take care of their child family members – even if you cannot afford it. There have been many other examples shown to me also in where family members will take care of each other, even when they have no money to do so. At times, some are even taking care of other street children or orphans even when they have little to no money for their own selves or kids. So the idea to have a group home seems rather oppositional to the belief that the people here need to take care of each other and their children. CRO’s points for not allowing group homes seem well proven, although there is always a defense for the other side.

Back to the home visit – So we traveled 45 minutes outside of Masaka district on a long, dusty and very bumpy highway in a bus like vehicle. (Luckily we were just one to a seat as that was not the case on the way home.) We got off – in what seemed like the middle of no where [to me], crossed the highway and found a small dirt road that lead into a small village. We were very close to the equator – so it was incredibly hot – and off in the distance we could see the beautiful and very large, Lake Victoria. It was explained to me that this youth was lead into street life by another peer to the attraction of making money by selling things. This is also another example of why the children turn to the streets; often their family cannot afford to feed them so they find other ways to feed themselves like working on the streets. The youth was found by CRO on the streets in Nyendo selling foods and recruited back to the CRO center. After some time it was discovered that while the youth did not get along with his father – for reasons unknown to me – he decided that street life was more appealing. When the youth was later resettled, it was in the home of the grandfather as opposed to the father. Again, there is a lot that I am unaware of due to concepts and discussions that were lost in translation and or not discussed with me. When we reached the small and very spread out village, the social worker decided to visit the house of the father as it was on the way to the grandfather. When we got there it was discovered that the youth was in school and still living with his grandfather. To my understanding this was a successful visit as that is what the social worker was looking to hear. We did not in fact see the youth as he was in school during that time and as the school was very far away we returned back to Masaka town. (PS, the ride home was not as comfy – we got into a ‘matatu’ which is a bus that would hold approx 11 people but which often will hold double – like in this case. I was sitting on a woman’s lap with my head slouched over – luckily there was no livestock on the bus ;)

Another outreach visit that I took part in was visiting a women’s group in Nyendo; once with the nurse and once with the social worker. Both the nurse and the social worker run women’s groups in Nyendo which address specific needs around health, life skills and family support. These groups seem to have an underlying tone of how to assist their children and the street children in Nyendo. My first visit was with the nurse. I was able to observe her speak to these women (who meet once a week; and once a month with the nurse) about health issues for the kids and youth. The nurse described, what may seem to one back home, as basic ideas and topics around healthy up bringing for the children and youth. She discussed ways to support the child during child hood and then offered ideas of support for the pre-adolescent and the older youth. She talked about hormones, sexuality, hygiene and the importance of explaining to the child and youth the life development stages that the child will go through. She provided examples of herself growing up and shared stories to help get the points across. Luckily for me one of the women was able to interpret, although it always feels like I miss out on certain things that get lost in translation. It was a real pleasure for me though to watch the nurse explain and talk to the group of women and then watch the facial and body reactions of the women. It seems to me, when I am observing conversations and groups such as these, that people here are full of expression and body movement when they speak; especially if they are trying to get a point across. At times I find myself thinking that it is such a beautiful language and I really wish I understood what was being said around me.

The second visit to the women's group was with the social worker, and I was the main presenter. The day before when I was speaking with the social worker during one of our outings, I started to talk to her about fetal alcohol syndrome. I was told that some women here believe that it is okay to drink while pregnant and that also, some women believe that drinking while pregnant will help produce healthy skin on the baby. We spoke about this topic for about one hour and she was thoroughly enjoying the learning – and teaching. She asked if I could attend the women’s group with her the next day and speak with them about the dangers of drinking while pregnant, and I gladly accepted. So the following morning I prepared some basic notes on poster paper and went to work. I sat down with her and explained what I had prepared and went over everything with her. She said that while she studied social work / psychology, this topic was never presented. Later that afternoon we went to the group, after a ‘slum walk’ in Nyendo, and I presented what I had prepared with her interpreting for me. I started off the group by explaining to them that this is a current issue that we are facing at home in Vancouver with some of our children and youth and I wanted to share incase it held any validity for the people here (in a more user friendly language). Some of the women seemed really interested and started asking questions right away. One of the inquiries was about the idea that consuming alcohol while pregnant produces nice skin for the baby. This discussion about the nice skin went on for about five minutes. My interpretation was that perhaps some where not believing what I was saying and that it was a shock to them that my information went against the grain of what was believed here. I tried to make it clear that I am not a doctor, or a nurse but rather a social worker and I am just here to share what I have learned back home. Another question involved a comparison to having HIV while pregnant. She asked why is it that when pregnant and having HIV the only time the baby can contract HIV is during the birth and not the pregnancy – that is why they believe that the alcohol does not contact the baby during pregnancy. She told me that they believe that the mother and the baby grow separately and that is why the baby will not contract HIV while in the womb. I was honest and told her that I did not know enough about HIV to discuss and compare how that process works but that I do know about how the alcohol enters the womb and reaches the baby and went on to share those details. I was also asked how to help the children that may have these symptoms or problems – especially how to help them when they are addicted by drugs. I discussed some of the things that we do at home and tried to keep it simple and culturally appropriate to what I have learned about life here. Overall I felt the group was quite successful and the social worker thanked me for sharing. Before I left I acknowledged the women for what they are doing and coming together to discuss important topics such as this. I told them that this is a huge step into helping their children and youth in the village of Nyendo. The women thanked me and we were on our way.

At USF they call me NAKALANZI (Leah)

Once a month the members of Uganda Schizophrenia Fellowship-Masaka Branch (USF) get together to have a meeting to discuss details of their group such as upcoming sensitizations rallies and ideas to increase knowledge about mental illness in their own and surrounding communities. This group is organized and facilitated by its members who all live in their own communities living with mental illness some of the members are also caretakers or family members of those living with mental illness. This group also offers support to one another and is a well established group that continues to do effective work in the community. I was present at the meeting and was made feel welcome, however had difficulty understanding what was being said as the meeting is conducted in Luganda. After the meeting was finished we all moved over to the training hall at the hospital. Douglas College funded a group lunch for over 60 people. I felt honored to be in the presence of this group. Myself and my three colleagues from Douglas College Adrianna, Mitra and Raman were invited as special guests at this lunch. We were warmly welcomed and enjoyed the songs and dance of some of the group members. This was the first time and had seen anyone sing or dance in Luganda and it was so wonderful, I really did feel like a special guest and will remember that welcome always. Some of the members shared poems about their experience with metal illness and how they are maintaining their healthy lifestyle. I was amazed by the confidence of these people to perform and share stories in front of a crowd of peers. I can see how it builds their confidence and I could feel a general sense of encouragement and empathy from those listening and watching these people.
Lunch was organized and served by the members of USF some people were organizing chairs and the space for people to sit, others then served the delicious meal we ate, while others distributed soda for everyone to drink. The meal was fantastic and it was my first time to try beef stew steamed in banana leaves, it was delicious. After lunch I was able to formally introduce myself to the members and explain why I was there and also introduce my colleagues. Since being in Uganda I have felt very welcome around new people I meet, as I looked into the crown of people I saw many smiles and ambitious curious eyes. It is truly fantastic to see so many people living healthy lives and working together to educate others and reduce the stigma of mental illness. This group is an inspiring group of people who have been either directly or indirectly affected by mental illness. They do this work on a voluntary basis as they feel passionate about what they are doing and want to help other people who are in similar situations. I hope they continue to do their good work as it is so valuable, if they had the funding they could do more outreach work. I can see how it can be frustrating for some of the members because they want to be involved with this group however many people are living far away from Masaka Regional Referral Hospital and it is very difficult for them to afford transport to and from such meetings.
Social interaction and mental development is crucial in ones recovery and maintenance of mental health. USF does the best they can do with the monies they receive however if they had more funding I know they would be able to do bigger and better things with the foundation they already have. It seems no matter were you are in Uganda or Canada money and funding is the common denominator on success for programs to run successfully and to also benefit people. However USF does great things for people living with mental illness and I feel fortunate to be learning from these people.
I am proud to say that I now have a Ugandan name which one of the members of USF gave to me. My name is Nakalanzi which means clan of the grasshopper. If you are from the clan of the grasshopper you do not eat grasshopper which by the way is a favorite snack here in Uganda. I promised I would never eat another grasshopper again and wear my name proud!!!! NAKALANZI!!!!

In Friendship
Leah-Nakalanzi

Reaching out to villages.................Mitra

One day at the hospital my supervisor tells me we are going to the communities. I was not sure what she meant, but I love going to different communities and visiting them. When I went outside of the ward I saw a Matatu (kind of mini bus) filled with nurses and new mothers who have been discharged form the hospital. There is a great program in the hospital which is directed by the nursing school. The program is to drive the new mothers and their new born babies back to their homes to many different villages because most of them don’t have money to go back home. Every morning around six mothers who have been discharged along with six nurses travel through different communities. Every time that we dropped off a mother, two nurses went with her inside her house to do a quick observation on the safety of the environment for the baby and the mother. We also visited the mothers who have been dropped off on previous days.
The checking on continues for seven days which at the end the nurse writs her final report. In each visit the nurse examines the mother and the baby. It was fascinating to see how they weigh the babies. They would strip the baby from his/her cloths and put her in a black plastic bag and hang him/her of a commercial scale. It was very interesting and frightening to watch because I was so worried that the plastic is going to rip and the baby is going to fall down, but the nurses are professional and know what they are doing.
The roads to these communities are very bumpy and it is a challenge to drive on them. Deep pot holes make it difficult to sit still in the car, and imagine if you are in pain going through those pot holes can hurt. In one our trips our Matatu (mini bus) stuck in the mud because it was raining that morning. While the driver was working hard to release the car we went to visit a mother. Her house was as big as a bathroom. She had a curtain up in order to create herself a bedroom. In the remaining side she had her dishes which weren’t so many on the floor and a coal burning cooker on the corner. There were no windows or natural lights, the walls were made of mud and straw, it was dark and sad. She was cooking something for lunch and the coal was burning in the house where her baby was sleeping. There was absolutely nothing in her house. In the reaming space where I think would be considered her living room only two people could get in. There was a small mat on the floor over the muddy ground. Her baby boy was bleeding from his cord for last while. He had lost lots of blood and was so weak. The nurses retied his cord and cleaned him up then my supervisor advised the mother to come with us to the hospital because she believed that the baby needed blood. The mother did not want to come. I found out that later that she did not have any cloths to wear, that is why she had wrapped a blanket around herself. Her only dress was washed and hung up to dry.
Eventually she agreed to come and the baby was saved. I can’t imagine what would have happened if the program was not there, most probably the baby would have never had a chance to live, to grow up….
In another occasion we were passing through a village where we just dropped off a mother and we saw a woman who was in so much pain and hardly could move. She had an abortion done in the village and she was in so much pain. The village was far away from the main road and is not easy to find a proper transportation other than Bodas (motor bikes which act as a taxi) to go around. We gave her ride to the main road, so she was able to get to the hospital. It was a privilege to experience these visits and be able to go to people’s houses and witness their life circumstances and their daily challenges. I have to admit there were times that I had to get out of the house because the amount of suffering was too much to bare. It is amazing to see how much a human can handle and still be able to live, have children and go on with life .

I remember............(Raman)

I am sorry for not putting up any blog entries sooner. I have found it very hard to put into words my experiences. I almost feel as if the words capture very little of what I see, hear, and feel. But I will try.

As a social worker in the hospital I have been privileged enough to work in many of the wards and build relationships with numerous patients, nurses, interns and doctors. When I first started at the hospital I found myself with a list of 7 ‘clients’, which may be the patients him/herself, or the patient and their caretaker. In the paediatric ward I had 3 clients, 2 boys aged 5 years and 18 months, and a little girl aged 5 years. Both the 5 year old children came in with severe malnourishment, malaria, anaemia, and de-hydration. The 5 year old boy was being taken care of by his mother. After spending some time with his mother I found out that the little boy was staying with his father and step-mother. This is common here. Polygamy is common. I am told that step-mothers may be neglectful of children that are not their own. This was the case with this 5 year old boy. Though he was 5, to me he looked about 2.5-3 years old. Malnourishment stunts development psychologically and physically. His mother was unaware of his condition, but when she came to know of it she brought him to the hospital. This little boy was quite swollen when he first got to the hospital. He was irritable and unresponsive but his mother was very caring and attentive to his needs. As the days went on and this boy felt a bit better, it was beautiful to see his mother play with him. She would tickle him and he would laugh. She would make faces that he found funny. She followed the regimen given to her by the nurses and intern doctors. This again is rare. There are many barriers to following the ‘doctors orders’, lack of money and a difference in beliefs being the two most prevalent. The nurses would tell me that this mother and the way she cared for her child was rare and was the reason this little boy was getting better. My heart would smile when I would see the relationship between the two.
None of this was true for the 5 year old little girl. Her caretaker was her father and her older sister. Malnourishment brings with it many other problems, one of which is anaemia. Severe anaemia results in a scab like peeling of the skin. This little girl’s body was not able to heel itself internally or externally, she did not have the nourishment to do so. When I first met this little girl and her father, there was a Nutritionist speaking to the father. In Lugandan he was telling the father what this little girl needed to get better in terms of nutrition. He was also asking the father why he was so distant from his daughter. The little girl’s head was just hanging to the side. She did not have the strength to hold her head up. The Nutritionist asked the father to hold his daughter close to him so that she could rest her head on him. The father pulled his daughter closer, her head fell onto his arm. To me, an observer, though I could see that there was no distance between father and daughter, I felt a large void between the two, there didn’t seem to be any sort of attachment. As soon as the Nutritionist and I left this girl’s bedside, the father walked away as well. The girl sat there, again, with her head hanging to a side. An intern doctor walked over and helped her lie down.

I visited this girl every day that I was at the hospital. I would ask the father how she was doing. One day an intern nurse and I spent some time talking to the father about what he could afford in terms of nutritious food. I realized that at times parents are told what to provide for their child but they are not asked whether or not they have the means to do so. This father did not. So we worked with him to figure out what he could afford in terms of nutritious food which would meet the needs of his daughter. As I continued to visit and speak to the intern doctors about this little girl, I was told that she was not making much improvement, she was actually getting worse. She had caught another infection on top of what she already had. For the most part this little girl was alone, she had no one by her side. She would lie in her bed alone, hooked up to IVs. One time I saw her trying to walk. She took one step and fell. Her legs didn’t even have the strength for a single step forward. Her sister, who was about 9 years of age, was washing clothes nearby. The little girl, collapsed on the ground, just lied there crying until her sister came to pick her up. She put her in a cotton sling, threw her over her back and went back to washing the clothes.
On another occasion when I had gone to visit her I had asked the father if he had fed her. He sat on the edge of his child’s bed at her feet as she lied there barely moving. Her skin was getting worse. She seemed to have less strength than 3 weeks prior when she had arrived. Her eyes would open, she would make a sound, which to my ears was a painful scream for love, affection and care. She didn’t seem to be doing well. At this time it was about 1130am. He had said that she hadn’t eaten anything that day. I asked why not. He told me that she refused to eat, she was not hungry. “How does that make sense? How can one say that a child that is malnourished is not hungry and therefore I did not feed him/her? The child is malnourished! She needs to eat whether or not she feels the need to. Is that not obvious?” I stood there for a minute, dumfounded. I felt myself getting frustrated with this man that sat before me. I could here my mind questioning whether he cares for his daughter. “Does he feel her pain? Does he not see her lying there in front of him?” Sometimes it is hard to place our biases aside and just ‘be’. Sometimes we have to quiet our minds before we try to hear what the other person is saying. I took a deep breath, told myself that I know next to nothing about this father and his daughter, therefore how can I place any judgements on him according to mere assumptions, and what good am I to anyone if I don’t try to understand the other’s perspective. I explained to him that she may not be hungry because she is ill, but in order for her to get better she is in desperate need of nutrition. At this time, a mother sitting at her son’s side on the bed beside this little girl spoke something in Lugandan to the girl. The girl quietly uttered some words back. The mother placed a passion fruit in the little girl’s hand. She looked at it, still lying on her side, and let it fall out of her hand. I picked it up off of her bed and placed it in her hand again. She again let it slide out of her little hand and let it fall beside her. I picked it back up and placed it in her hand. She slowly lifted her other hand and scratched at the passion fruit. She dropped it again. The intern nurse standing beside me took the passion fruit, squeezed it to break it in half, and handed it to the little girl. She put it to her mouth and began eating it. We sat her up. She ate 2 passion fruits and then some bread. She was hungry. She was very hungry. She just didn’t have the strength to eat, and the father may not have the means of care or communication to know so. It was nice to see her eat.

I visited her for the rest of the week, she was still not doing very well. When I came back to see her and the other patients on the following Monday morning I found her bed empty. There were no sheets, no suitcase, no bags or food to be seen. The bed was completely bare. My heart sunk. I hesitated to ask the intern doctor. I walked further into the ward, the intern doctor greeted me and then said, “Your little girl didn’t make it. She died this morning at 5am.”

‘Malnourishment did this? Her sister was fine, she was healthy, even had fat on her body. Neglect maybe?’ My thoughts run quick. I find myself getting frustrated with the father for not taking care of his daughter, for depriving her of love, affection and any sort of attachment. I feel a sense of loss and emptiness inside. I feel my eyes fill with water. My mind tells me that this isn’t the time to process this and that I still have a full day ahead of me. I’m quite good at turning my emotions off, throwing up my wall and carrying on. So I did. I looked forward.
At the other end of the ward I see the mother of the 5 year old boy whose bed was beside the little girl’s. The mother looks very sad. I walk over and ask her how she is doing. She says well. She was not well. Looking into her eyes you could see her mind racing. I tell her I’m sorry about the little girl. She makes a sound of acknowledgment. She then says that she is afraid the same will happen to her son. She is afraid he will die as well. She had lost hope. I tell her that her son is doing quite well and that the little girl had gotten other infections. I ask her to continue taking care of her son and not to lose hope. Hope and faith seem to be this nation’s fuel. When one loses hope the others can see it and feel it from a distance, it is like an ever consuming vacuum. Her son would feel it. Her eyes had lost hope. I asked the intern doctor to speak to her, and discuss her son’s health with her so that she understands that the health of her son was very promising. A week later the little 5 year old boy, who was once irritable, unable to move, swollen and very ill, was discharged. His mother was very happy, and he was healthy and playful when he left. He would even giggle when I would try my broken Lugandan with him.

Every experience is bitter sweet. These two little children came into the ward the same day. One walked out, while the other lost the battle fighting until her last breath. She was fighting a battle that almost seemed to have an end result written for her before she started. She had nothing but her own strength fighting something that had consumed her entire body. I watched her die, slowly. I watched her strength whither away, slowly. I think of what I feel inside when I write about her, and then I think about what her last thoughts may have been when she had the strength to think. I remember her.

I also remember a 60 year old man that I had met in the surgical ward. This man was in a bed at the far end of the ward. One couldn’t even tell that there was someone in the bed. He was a long, thin man. His sheets would be drawn over his head. There were countless flies around his bed. His little area smelled of urine. He had had a surgery for his gut and was continuing to have abdominal pain following his surgery. He had no one to care for him. His wife had run off on him with their son while he was in surgery. She ran off with all of their money. I visited him daily. An intern nurse would translate for me. We wouldn’t talk long. I would ask him how he was doing. He would tell me about his wife, his work, and how he just wanted to get better. He didn’t want anything to do with her. He didn’t want to be upset. He just wanted to get better and go back to his employer to work. I asked how he would transport himself to his work, would he like for me to find him transportation. He said he would walk. I would ask him if I could come back to visit. He would smile and say yes and thank me for visiting him. He would never ask me for anything. He struggled to speak, and spoke very quietly. He would hold his abdomen when he spoke, and grimace in pain, but would always greet me. I spent a few minutes with him every day I was there, and would just wish his pain would go away. On a Friday, I went to the ward to see how he was, he was asleep. I always woke him up to say hello, but this day I thought I’d let him rest. I visited other patients and was on my way. The ladies and I went away for the weekend to Rwanda (an eye opening, heart wrenching experience on its own). As we commuted there I thought of this 60 year old man. I wanted to see him again but something inside told me that I wouldn’t. I thought about him numerous times. I prayed that he would still be there when I got back there on Wednesday. When I went in his bed was occupied by another man. Tears fill my eyes as I write this. He had passed that Monday. I didn’t get to see him again. I didn’t get to look into his eyes and greet him. His eyes revealed a depth and a wise soul. His eyes had a story to tell, maybe a painful one. His eyes seemed to peer into me. His eyes carried warmth of one that had lived and had experienced much. His eyes evoked something within me. His eyes I remember. I remember him.

I hesitate before I carry on with this next experience. I feel overwhelmed with sorrow and yet have not even started to write about a boy that I met, also in the surgical ward. I hesitate still.
I met another 5 year old boy with his 11 year old sister, and his 9 month pregnant mother. This little boy was immobile. His body was stuck in an abnormal position. His legs crossed one another, his arms were pulled tight up against his chest. He did not move anything but his eyes. He did not speak. Instead, he cried. A cry that I still hear. It wasn’t a cry of a child that one would normally hear. It was a cry of pain. His mother told me that a few months prior he was running around and went to school. He was quite bright, the top in his class. One day, she had come home and found him convulsing. Soon after this he lost his ability to move and then speak, his mouth had minimal movement. He was found to have Osteomyelitis, an infection of the bones and the bone marrow. He was in the surgical ward because he and his mother had fallen off of a bike and he was left with a fractured bone in his arm. His bone was protruding out of his arm. He would cry in pain all day and night. His mother did not have the money to purchase pain medication. She did not even have money for food. This little boy was in this ward for weeks waiting for a surgery. An x-ray was taken of his arm and the doctors found that the infection was eating away at his bones. They could not do surgery on his protruding bone because it was very infected and was pussing.

Could you imagine being stuck in your own body? Could you imagine what this little boy was thinking in his head? I wondered this. The thought of being stuck in my body…………I can not even fathom this. Yet here was this little boy, stuck. The infection was eating away his body from the inside-out. His eyes wondered seeming to look for an escape. His mouth cried. His mother and sister carried him around. My mind can not even begin to comprehend what his mother would be going through. I think of what I feel, and can’t imagine what his mother feels, or what he feels. I wonder what goes through his mind and then I stop myself from wondering. It’s painful.

He was being discharged. There was nothing the hospital could do for him. The mother was asked to go to a clinic nearby her home to get dressings for his arm. The nurse and I both knew that wasn’t possible. She had no means to do so. She was 9 months pregnant. She gave birth to her 6 children on her own, in her home. She was going to do the same again. ‘And then what? Then what happens to this little boy? How will she care for a newborn and this boy? She doesn’t have any other support.’ When he was being discharged I went to speak to his mother, and to say goodbye to him. I’m not sure if he understood me because he couldn’t respond. He just cried in his mother’s arms. As I was talking to his mother with the nurse, the mother showed me her son’s leg. My eyes again fill with tears as I write. His little leg had a flesh wound the size of my palm. What once was a blister had developed into a large open wound. There was no skin on it. Just white flesh. His body was truly being eaten from the inside-out. I look into his eyes. His eyes seemed to scream ‘help’. His eyes looked up completely helpless. I wished him freedom. I wished him freedom from him pain. If that is what his heart desires, I wish him absolute liberty. Liberty from this body that had become an infected cage, holding him in. I hope today that he is free. I remember his cries. I remember him.

The Essence of Grass Roots (Anaweza Adriana)

The Essence of Grass Roots by Anaweza....

Over these past two weeks at CRO there have been less and less children attending as school has been put back in to session. Lucky for the children who are able to afford to go back to school and even luckier for the children who can not afford school and can attend CRO in its place. For a reference, I have been told that it costs approximately $90 a year for a youth to attend secondary school. It costs a little less for primary and a lot more for vocational. So just imagine ladies, one pair of Lululemon pants is the equivalent to one full year of school for a youth in Uganda! Owning a pair or two of Lululemon’s myself, it really made me think about….. not sure how to put it into words, but it made me think very deeply. I know its rather obvious to most that we are much richer financially in the west, but to hear the financial figures, to see the children in person and in their community, to know how much school means to a child’s future and to relate it to how I live at home really provided a shift in consciousness.

I have been learning just how important education really is, especially in this country. Almost all of the children and youth I have met here really REALLY want to attend school and get a good education. When you question what they want to be when they grow up their ambitions are as vast as the sky. They want to be doctors, lawyers, nurses’ social workers and the like. I always question what their favorite subjects are and what they like the most in school and I hear: mathematics, physics, chemistry, history, geography! I have been noticing that a lot of these children, youth and parents are not only struggling and working to provide food, but sometimes more importantly, school fees and books. Similarly to the West, to receive an education here means to receive a higher amount of income. I have learned that when a person in a family here has an education and has a descent salary – to one it may seem like a burden - they are consistently paying for their family members, and often other children, to go to school, to eat, to buy health care and all sorts’ of basic necessities that only money can buy here. (I am sure that was a run on sentence, but bare with me). What I am getting at is; people here strive to get a good education and a good job so they can help support their family and their extended family. I find that so amazing. I think about back home, even for myself, I know that I have not strived for an education to help support my small family, but rather so I can provide for a future family, and of course, myself. Of course I will help support my parents when I can provide the finances to do so, but that was not my starting sole purpose in pursing an education. In a way it sounds rather selfish when I compare it to the mindset here around the importance and reasoning of receiving an education. I am sure it has already been reported by the other women here with me that the sense of communal living and taking care of one another seems to be an essential way of living – something that seems just so natural, even with the smallest children.

Currently CRO still remains with around 15 – 20 children and youth each day with most of the population consisting of boys. Over the past two weeks there has been around 2-3 girls that have attended – I am not sure if this means that the there are more girls attending school, as one may conclude that from the change in number, but also keeping in mind that there were always more boys to begin with. With these changes I have not facilitated another girls group over these past weeks as it seemed that the timing was not right. The pace seems different now, and it appears that the couple girls that are attending are always kept busy. I am going to try again in the following weeks to come. Instead I have been helping out in the classroom with instructing small sessions like learning about colors. It makes me smile to see just how happy the children and youth become when they have a set of coloring tools in their hands. I have also been working on building my relationships with the youth by playing soccer and Frisbee. I feel like I have made connections as when the soccer game starts they boys ask me to play goalie. I have told them that I played soccer at home for many years and my position was always goalie. I have just begun to feel like I am a part of their lives. They know me by name and now instead of me always putting myself in their play, I am invited!

In the past two weeks CRO has said good bye to two volunteers and have said hello to two more. CRO is quite lucky in the sense that they always seem to have volunteers coming, mostly from the Netherlands and other parts of Europe. This is another way in which CRO receives external funding. The volunteer organization called B MORE, run out of the Netherlands, sets up volunteers within Africa and pays the receiving organization to host them. I am not sure the amount of money an organization like CRO will receive for hosting the volunteers, but I was lead to believe that it is a descent amount.

The past two weeks have provided more than just practical learning and worldly experiences for me. I am continually learning about different ways of life, faith, perseverance, generosity and giving – to list a couple. One of the most amazing experiences I have had thus far was learning about the ambitions and visions of one of the men who work at CRO. I have been given permission by him to write about what he has done and accomplished so far and I am more than excited to share with the rest of you.

Over the past month at CRO I have been able to build mutual relationships with the staff who work there. One man in particular has been exceptionally inspiring. He is a day guard at CRO who has seen the “gap” in services and has decided to take it upon himself, with the assistance of his wife, to try and fill it starting at the grass roots. Let me share the story….

(Please keep in mind that I may be missing some pieces, and that I am sure I am not giving it nearly enough justice for what it is actually worth, I am just reporting on what I have understood to be the basic core concepts, but I wish to become more involved with this and will continue to report as I learn more – please also note that I will not be using any names)
CRO used to run out of a different building last year in a neighboring village called Kirumba. While he was working in this village he had children and youth approach him requesting to be apart of CRO. Unfortunately because they were not considered “street children” they were denied the opportunity. (I believe it is because there are so many street children who need this support that the agency had to draw the line.) Street children here are considered to be living on the streets with no means of supporting themselves. The children who were approaching him still had some support, although, very little and were on the verge of becoming street children. As he was observing this, he had a vision; to intervene with the ‘needy’ children and their community before they turn into street children. It seems so simple, yet it is incredibly brilliant as it is a very important gap that may go unnoticed due to lack of resources and in the end, funding. So with this vision he approached another couple in this village who had a larger piece of land with a house and a garage. He spoke with the man and told him of his vision. He told the man he has absolutely no money to provide, but he would like to use some of his land and property. The man and his wife agreed, and they started off by letting him use their garage to host the children.

He and his wife took out a small loan to start their vision. He told me that he works full time at CRO to pay off his loan, support his family that includes 3 daughters as well as to pay for 3 other children to go to school. Along with that he has his younger brother in law living with him (this is not an unusual circumstance in regards to supporting other children and extended family). His wife earns an income by selling things out of their house like tea, biscuits and other small consumables. Together they use their income to run their vision which they call “(Anaweza Charity) Talents Skills Development Center”. And they run the center on Saturdays and Sundays – the only two days left of their week.

He and his wife started this center around 2 ½ years ago with some younger children. He has reported that in the past year he is now supporting around 20 children and 20 youth – including providing support to the parents and other members of the community. He told me that he meets the youth and finds out what kinds of skills and talents they have and then capitalizes on those. For example, he met a young lady who is very good at sowing. (Here that is a big business). He found the means to get a sowing table to put in the garage and has helped her to learn to sow. In turn, she now teaches other young ladies who also inquire to lean this skill. He found another young lady who is interested in hair dressing and now helps support her within a hairdressing setting with the woman who owns the salon. Likewise, he found some children that have incredible talents in music like singing and playing the drums. He has built on these talents with the youth and now they are singing in school and at their churches. He also found a high interest and talent amongst the girls with net ball (similar to basketball). He built the net ball nets and with a donated net ball the girls now practice regularly and play against other teams in Masaka!

With the support from his wife and the wife of the man who owns the property, they facilitate talents and life skill development every weekend and all children and youth are invited and welcomed to attend. There is no exclusion within their center; it could be street children, needy children and even young adults. And they are doing all of this with out any sort of external funding or money. It is an incredible display of resourcefulness, compassion, passion and materializing goals, dreams and visions. He did not wait for the money to come along and start this center, he just used what little he had and made it happen – this to me is very powerful and moving.

Yesterday I had the opportunity to visit this community with him. I was unsure exactly what I would be in for when I met up with him, but soon realized what was happening. He was walking me around and introducing me to the people of the community in which he was affecting, and the beauty just unfolded and transpired with every interaction and new face he showed me. (I have to note that this has been one of the most personally rewarding and transforming experiences for me to date). We started off at the bottom of the hill by the road and he introduced me to three young ladies and some women. They were cooking food to feed the mechanic workers and other workers near by. Under this make shift hut they had three coal stoves on the ground going where they made sweet potato, matokee and beans. The three girls were very busy with the other woman. He encouraged me to ask them questions and to speak with them, so I did. For the most part the girls spoke English and we were able to communicate. But he did help out and translate for me, especially when I was speaking with the adults. The girls were helping out with making the foods so they can earn a little bit of money to pay for books and school fees. The girls were both good at net ball and played on the net ball team that he had helped to create. They wanted to continue school for as long as they could and had aspirations of teaching.

Next we walked past a shop where some of the CRO boys were smashing and dismantling metals and electronics. Here the youth can earn some money by brining in scrap metals, so they go through garbage and other discarded piles of stuff to find any bits of metal they can. They break apart used electronics and take any bit of it that may offer a little money in return. It was so nice as we were walking towards them I heard them call my name. We went over and I was shown what they were doing and then we continued on.

We went up the hill a little way to find two female youth preparing matokee (Uganda’s specialty food made from green bananas). One of the girls was a young mom. When he first met her she had dropped out of school and was not planning on returning. He encouraged her to return and educated her on the importance of continuing school. He reports that she is now in school full time. She says that she would like to finish school and be a teacher. Her and the other young lady are also apart of the net ball team. They both appeared to be the head of their families left to take care of the younger children. I was told that one of the mothers had just taken off and abandoned the children; leaving the eldest to take care of them (this is also not uncommon).

We continued up the hill to a collection of small houses (bear in mind they are made of mud and sticks and not at all houses in the western sense). I was greeted very warmly and one of the mothers invited me into her home and instantly provided me a seat. Then most of her 7 children came and sat around me and we talked. She had a couple older youth who were both in school and were able to speak English. I told them about myself and where I came from, and the work I do at home. They were very interested. They asked questions about our seasons, our geography, our land, our farming and our ways of life. They were very surprised to hear that we also have street children at home and youth who use drugs. One youth told me she thought that it was only in Uganda that youth and children go with out homes and parents. We spent around 30 minutes in this home talking and sharing, while the younger boys were outside playing football (soccer) and coming in from time to time to catch a glimpse of the “muzungo”. Often when I am greeted by younger children, even youth sometimes, they will get on their knees, put their head down and hold up their hands to shake. I think it confuses them when I try to go down to their level and look face to face.

We continued our journey up the hill where we entered a hairdressing shop. (I keep feeling the urge to emphasize that it is nothing like we may have in mind at home). Interrupting seems to be a normal part of life here – people may just walk in and be welcomed no matter what it is they are walking into (for example, the doctors rooms at the hospitals, or budging in line at the supermarkets). So we just walked into the hairdressing shop where a woman was getting her hair done by one of the youth that he is also supporting. I was instantly welcomed and brought a seat, even though the place was very small and crowded. But we all seemed to fit in. It was strange for me to just walk in and sit down and start talking, but he made it feel very natural and comfortable and again encouraged me to talk and ask questions – this time he interpreted everything as they did not speak English. So I spoke with the youth, but mostly with the young woman (25 years) who ran the saloon and worked with the young girls in the community who wished to be hair dressers. (on a side note, right after I sat down the woman sent the youth out to purchase a soda for me as a gift to share with her visitor) The woman was just one year younger than me and was pregnant with her first child. She has been married for over 6 years. She had a lot of questions for me around religion and life. I told her that I am un married but that I have a boyfriend whom I have been with for over 3 years. I explained to her that he and his family are of Christian belief and I am not. This was confusing, yet also educating for her. It seems to be strange for some of the people I have met here to hear about not having a particular faith or religion – not to mention the idea of being in a long term relationship, un married and not of the same religious belief. I enjoyed sharing my differences and way of life, and likewise, it seemed to be of great interest for her, often producing laughs and looks of disbelief at the fact that I am not like her and her people. She told me that she would like me to visit again.

After our visit in the hair salon, we moved next door to meet a younger woman with a 2 month old son. Again, she was quick to make space for me to sit down and communicate with me. Even though I felt like an intruder most of the time, the reactions of the people I was meeting were very happy and grateful for having me present in their home or place of work. So we sat and talked with her for a short while. She told me about her son and his health complications. It is suspected he may have asthma. Her son was so beautiful and we connected right away with big smiles. When I told her I was from Canada she asked me if I could take her son with me and raise him in Canada. The only way I knew how to respond was by saying that I would love to raise many kids in Canada, but unfortunately I could not take him and that I am sure she will do a better job here. She laughed and we moved on. I was told that she sold small things like bananas and pancakes and other root vegetables to people in the community to support herself.

We continued our walk to a seemingly poorer part of the community where I met a young 9 year old girl who is the head of her household. This last home visit felt like the most painful to see. She has 3 younger siblings that she tries to support. I was told that her mother had abandoned the family and that her dad is around sometimes but he is a ‘drunk’ and does not come home often (again a common theme). This young girl was very withdrawn and barely made any eye contact. She was often looking down and her body language felt like that of a very badly abused, young child. He told me that he found her selling jackfruit on the streets and learned about her home life and lack of family. He is now supporting her to go to school and encourages her to stay in school. Her younger siblings were also present and very happy to see us. I was told that she has malaria and has not eaten for over a day. I was not surprised to see that he got on the phone right away and called a nurse to request some medications. We spent a little more time with her, her siblings and some of the other children and then the three of us walked back down towards the salon where he met with the nurse and purchased the medications (out of his own pocket). He also purchased some bananas and provided them to the girl to eat with the medications.

We made our way back down the hill and then he told me that we will be having lunch – this did not come as much of a surprise as providing meals seems to be a show of appreciation and thanks for the gift of presence. He seemed to be more thankful for the chance to share this experience with me than I was to have received it – and I was incredibly thankful beyond words. So our last stop was at the house in where the center runs out of. The woman that helps out and lives in the home was very happy to see me and had a smile bigger than mine. She welcomed me to her home and showed me around. I was shown the garage in where the group will meet along with some of the things that the children have made and the small amount of possessions the center has to share with the children like books and balls. I was also shown the chicken coupe where they have bough some animals to go along with the center. They are breeding chickens and other animals that they can provide to the youth and families in the community so they can start their own small farms. He told me that he has specifically learned how to breed these birds and ways to keep them so he can teach the other youth and families. One important concept with this program is learning and teaching keeping it sustainable.

After the tour she put out a very large meal for just him and I to sit and share and reflect. She made us matokee, g-nut sauce with fish, sweet potato along with avocado and pineapple. During our lunch he shared with me parts of his life story and how he got to where he is currently. The stories seemed to share an underlying tone of ambition to learn so he can teach, along with perseverance, compassion and motivation. He sets goals and believes that they will be achieved with out knowing yet how. When asked what his goal is for the Talents Skills and Development Center he explained that he would like to have a big center (building) where he can run a larger amount of services. For example he would like more sowing machines so that the girls can practice and teach each other, along with a school to provide education and the ability to reach more children and youth.

Overall my time spent with him was very fulfilling. Before I left I was given a gift that I will not forget. The woman who made the food, along with a young adult who helped out and visited with me wanted to give me an African name. They decided that my African name will be “Anaweza” which means ‘able’. It felt really nice. What a gift! When they were walking me down the hill to catch a boda home the kids were calling at me and waving and they told the kids that my name is Anaweza Adriana! It wasn’t until I got home again that I realized that that is the name of their charity. I felt like I received the gift all over again.

The other girls and I will visit the community this Sunday and see it all in action. I have been more than inspired with this community and these incredible people who are dedicated to enriching the lives of the children, youth and young adults in their community. They know the importance of helping these children at the grass roots level. In this past month I have been here, this is the first time I have felt so inspired to help and try to become involved. As this program is still in its infancy and has an immense amount of potential, I am feeling very inclined to continue to keep in touch and try to help in any way possible. I am also encouraged to help knowing that Michelle, a student from last year’s project that I am friends with, is also keeping in touch with this man and his aspirations. One way in which I can provide some support currently is through helping with networking. I have spoken with Bridgette, who runs Tekra Resource Center with her husband Bruce, and have asked her if she would come with us on Sunday to meet him and possibly share some ideas and insight into his project. Who knows what could transpire from that contact. I also have a couple other ideas in mind in terms of connecting and networking. Now that I have been here for over one month and I am aware of some other projects and networks I feel confident that before I leave I will be able to offer a couple of supportive ideas.

I am more than excited for the next three weeks and also a little sad that it is shortly coming to an end. I am feeling like I have just begun to understand and feel comfortable in my abilities to assist and now our time is running out. I look forward to sharing more with you later. I could go on an on about the community here and all the amazing experiences I have been gifted with, but I will save some for later! Thank you for following our journeys!

Sincerely,
Anaweza Adriana

PS – Us ladies continue to get along very well. So far none of us has caught malaria. We continue to provide just the right amount of support for one another. We eat freshly prepared meals that we prepare together each night and all seem to clean up after ourselves. One important thing is that we laugh a lot, at ourselves and at each other. We share our stories each day and have fun together on the weekends. I feel that our small group compliments each other very nicely. We are all very different yet share similar and sometimes intimate threads of connections.
And I am very greatful for my wonderful parents! I miss you and love you both!

Tekera (Leah)

My second placement is at Tekera Resource Centre which is located 17km out of Masaka town. I reach Tekera via a bumpy dirt road on a boda boda “motorbike taxi”. I have found that a boda boda ride is one of my favorite things to do in Uganda, especially when you get to view lush green beautiful landscape on route. A Canadian couple who have lived in Uganda for 5 years created Tekera Resource Centre. It began as a medical clinic for people in the surrounding villages to access health care. It has no expanded into a dental clinic, primary school, community garden, and craft club with many locally made crafts available for sale and warm community. The Canadian couple is close to leaving the resource centre in Ugandan hands so it can be self sustainable and run by local people for local people. Please look at their website for more information http://www.ugandavillage.org/ I feel so welcome in this community and I really believe in this project. I see how it benefits many people who did not receive any medial treatment or schooling before they were there. I have been doing many home visits at Tekera , with the community liaison and program facilitator who is a Ugandan, he seems to know everyone in the village and takes time to say hello to everyone and ask how they are really doing. I have two home visits that really stand out for me and I feel as I could not do or say enough to help either of these families. One of these women has given birth 17 times and only 9 of her children are alive two of them are developmentally delayed. Her husband has left as he misuses alcohol and he no longer financially contributes to the family. Her mother is elderly and weak and can no longer work on the family farm. The family has food because they have a farm but they no longer have money for school fees for all of her children. She explained she is so tired from trying to sustain the little that the family has. I found it very hard to “help” this woman, all I could do was to give her encouraging words and empower her as the strong woman she is. I reminded her to put her faith in God (she is Catholic) and good times will be ahead. I have found that many people have a great faith in God no matter what religion they are. I think people find comfort and hope in God and praying when they cannot advance themselves financially.

On another home visit we met another woman, she is a 17 year old mother of two, one of her sons is 6 months old the other two and a half, born by different fathers. She is developmentally delayed but does her best to raise her children, she truly loves her babies, in a child like doll way. Her father works the family farm for food her mother is dead. Grandma also lives with them however she is very weak and has a soar leg that does not allow her rest properly. There is also another child that lives in this home, a girl that is 1 year old. This child was dropped off at their home, completely abandoned, by whom they do not know. This is a common accordance in village life; one cannot care for another child so they drop them off on the doorstep of someone else home. No such thing as foster care or child protection living in a village. None of these children were wearing clothes, they only had their Sunday best that they would wear to Tekera to the clinic. This abandoned child is severely malnourished and all children are living with malaria. This home was an image you would see in a world vision commercial. We decided to take the children and mother to the clinic to get treatment. Ugandans take great pride in their physical appearance, before we left Mother bathed herself and kids in two inches of water in a small wash basin and they all put on their only outfit they own. We carried the children back to the clinic so they could get malaria treatment, I carried one of the kids because they were too weak to walk because of malaria. I got peed on twice, apparently a blessing, kind of like when a bird poops on you!!! This family does not have much hope at advancing as the Mother has an enlarged spleen from multiple cases of untreated malaria this is not a promising future for her. After her death there will be no one accept the weak Grandmother to care for these children. It is hard to accept the circumstance of this family. However I feel like we did the best with what we had, the children received malaria treatment, we were able to get some of the children clothes and underwear. I tried my best to empower this mother and educate her about the importance of keeping herself healthy for her children; however she seems to only live in the present and has no concept of living in the future, which is understandable considering her family situation.

I have learnt in village life that people do the best with what they have got, they try and work together to share what they have. These people are so resilient and keep going despite what we perceive as a very poor lifestyle. However I can see the richness in these peoples lives, they have an amazing strength in family and in God. I have heard so many times “God is good God is great”, “he will help us if we keep praying”, “one day God will save us if we keep believing.” I admire their faith and have begun to develop and entire new understanding of faith that I have learned from people I have met in Uganda.

In Friendship,
Leah