Sir Nimrod Junior School Buloba

In the semi-rural area of Buloba outside of Kampala, rests a gem. It is a private school serving the rural area where the government aided school is too far away. The school was started on modest, but quite nice property that was formerly a dairy. The proprietors have made many improvements. And in the 1.5 years that the school has been operating it has already established a very good reputation. The young children are learning to read and write in English and have already surpassed the standards of even older children in the government aided schools.

If you have followed my blog, then you know that I regularly visit this wonderful school. I have watched it grow from the beginning. The owner of the school has said this:

"The school teaches the Uganda national curriculum and prepare pupils for public examinations. At the same time, it aims to develop self-confident students who care for each other and for their local communities. The school encourage students to be open minded and questioning. They are taught to respect evidence and to appreciate the need for shared human values. The school offers an effective, caring and distinctive learning environment for children in deprived semi- rural areas in an African context. It aims for an education that respects: High levels of achievement and social responsibility for each child; freedom of thought and expression; rational enquiry, science and the need to support argument with evidence; human rights, gender and racial equality, and the rights of individuals to choose their personal life stance."

 Thanks to a Quaker friend, I was able to bring pencils for each of the children and the teachers.

The children greeted me with songs. I remember many of them and they, also, remember me.

I saw the start of new buildings for the school on the land nearby. This building will be known as the "Barbara Center."

The work of the children inspires me, where the drop out rate between P1 and P5 is over 60%.

The teachers are doing an amazing job, despite being paid poorly. They make the equivalent of roughly 60.00 a month. They are paid on time and they are provided breakfast and lunch. The children also receive breakfast and lunch. 

 

 

Wherefore Art Thou Compassion

There is a reason you will find no pictures on this post. I am sure you will understand by the end.

Believe it or not, I have a simple Sunday routine. I wake to the sound of early church singers. I rise, clean off, have quiet time, and water.

Then, I am off. I walk to a St. Katumba church here on the Kyambogo University campus. I don't go inside. I sit out. I listen. For some reason, I don't want to take my mzungu body inside their place of worship. When the last hymn is being sung, I rise from the steps on which I have been seated.

I start the walk to Logo, a shopping mall, where I will eat lunch at a restaurant. I have been told, "You people like Logo" and indeed I see more mzungus there then any other single place. To get there I walk about 3.5 miles along the road that moves traffic from Kampala city center to Jinja (the town near the source of the Nile). The road is not as congested on Sundays as it is most other days. Walking on the road is not easy. There is a small area between the ditch built to channel water during the rain and markets on the one side AND streams of cars, beeping taxi-buses, and swerving boda-bodas on the other side. Still I like the walk and I turn down many requests for taxis and boda-bodas in order to get in a walk.  I walk to Logo, eat lunch, and walk home. Then, I spend the afternoon preparing for the upcoming week's work, and doing a bit of writing.

I have the path marked out pretty well in my mind. Once I get to the main road, I pass a gas station, soon thereafter, a big car lot and mattress factory. These are owned by Indian Ugandans. Further along, I pass some nice nurseries where small plants are nurtured by the side of the road. There is a big corner where many taxis gather. Then, there is a big open market area at Nakawa, This kind of market area is frequented less by Wuzungus (plural of mzungu) than Logo, but I like its open air, haphazard, colorful presence. People often call at me to buy and I try not to breathe the smell of fresh fish - a smell I am sure many people would appreciate. Passed this market, there are few specified service organization buildings. Then another small nursery and the corner across from Logo, where women sit selling baskets of bananas and mangos, peas and ground nuts. There is security at the entrance to the parking lot of the mall, but I am usually just waved on through. 

This morning before heading out, Onzima, the man who takes care of the property I am staying at, approached me to discuss his particular dilemmas. I listened. Today, while I was eating a lunch outside, a well-dressed man approached me with a letter claiming that he was deaf and that he needed money. As I was reading, I was thinking "Hmmm, I am not quite sure how to handle the situation. What is the right amount? What should I do?" I decided to give him half of what I would have spent on lunch and then I cut back on what I ordered. He seemed grateful, but also perhaps a bit embarrassed. He scurried off quickly. I ate. Then I began the journey back. Lots of people waved at me. Boda-boda called, "Mzungu, how are you? Where are you going?" "I am just walking, I would reply." "But where? What is your name?" "I am walking home and I like the exercise." "Oh, oh, okay." And then again. And yet again. Children wave. Today one young girl (I would guess around 2.5) ran up to me and hugged me as her mother smiled at a short distance. I was aware, as I usually am, at the beautiful colors of the women's attire. I am touched by the movements of the children.

After passing Nakawa on my way home, and in the vicinity of one of the larger nurseries, I looked ahead. I saw a woman. She was not clean. Her simple clothes were tattered. She walked without anything on her feet. She wore the signs of a hard life. As she got closer, I averted my eyes - down, to the left. We passed on each others' right. She was between me and the clamoring road. Just after passing, I felt her warm sure grip on my arm. She had reached out to grab me. I made a sound of fear. Indeed, without choosing, I felt afraid. I did not look up. I kept walking, taking my arm along with me. After some few steps, I looked back. She stood silent in the place where I had pulled my arm from her hand. I kept walking. a few more steps, I looked back again, and saw her back as she seemed to be proceeding along in the direction she had been going.

I felt ashamed. I pondered the words of Jesus: 'Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.' Matthew 25:40

So what did I do? I averted my eyes. I turned my head. I walked passed. I kept walking. I looked back, but did not change from my path. I was motivated by fear.

I am left wondering, wherefore art my compassion?

Contemplating Peace: The Opportunity of Our Research Team

Our team is researching primary children's conceptions of peace at two primary schools in Uganda - one in Gulu and one here in Kampala in an area known as Mackindye.

The research teams collected data from children in focus groups. They transcribed the data. We have spent some time and energy last week analyzing the data. We are not finished - so the analysis will continue next week.

There are some interesting surprises, but you will have to wait to read the paper about those. Meanwhile, I will say that there have also been some interesting cultural differences in both meaning and experiences. There are things about the work culture for me to get used to, like the relaxed time element, the gracious tea, and the prevalence of men. Then in terms of understanding the children's responses, there are challenges for me. There is a confinement of the term "fighting" to physical acts like boxing, biting, beating, so a much stricter division between quarreling and fighting then we make in the U.S. where fighting is a broader term, but can include quarreling or verbal fighting. Then there are also references to context for which I have no experience - like men with spears. Now, I can kind of conjure up what a man with a spear might be like, but I had no idea what the "pouring" meant. I will leave you guessing on that one! It has been interesting to me to learn how powerful the concept of obedience is.

The location of the two schools are both marked by violence in different ways and eras. The school in the Mackindye district in Kampala is just adjacent to infamous army barracks used during Idi Amin's time for the most cruel of tortures and punishment. Just the name Mackindye has residue of violence of fear. The area is beginning to thrive, but it has taken a long time and many people still think of the area as crime-ridden and violent. The school in Gulu is marked by the war that was in that area. The Lord's Resistance Army was stealing youngsters in the area and turning them into soldiers against their only family. After the cease-fire many of those children had no where to go. Families were in disarray and the stability of the community had been severely shaken. Many of the children at the school are orphans or are members of child-headed households. As such, the school has designated adults to serve as "school-parents for children" and they meet regularly with them to provide advice and emotional support. This violence is much more recent than the Idi Amin violence, but both are in the lifetimes of anyone in my generation.

In fact, as I think about this research, I am struck, by how my own pre-conceptions of Uganda were really marked by these two big eras of violence. Of recent, Uganda has been considered one of the more stable political entities with decreased amounts of warring violence. However, as I write that, there is violence in the western side of the country and in the northeastern Karamajong area.

My friend Jessica Hirshorn posted a saying on her facebook wall a few weeks ago that said "Anything war can do, peace can do better." (If you are singing that phrase it means you know the "Annie Get Your Gun" musical.) As I age, I come closer and closer to the relentless understanding that peace is the higher moral fight. Learning to resolve conflicts without might and force is a big moral challenge for us as humans. It's a moral challenge in relationships, in communities, in nations, and across nations. For me, this research is an opportunity to learn at all levels. It really helps me think about Spiritual Peace, about peace with my loved ones (what does it mean, how do I listen?), peace in my community, peace in my nation, and peace here in Uganda and elsewhere around the world and across the world. I have always been known as a kind person, but I think I really want to move to being known as someone who shares peace, who lives peacefully, and who brings the voice of peace to the conversation. At least, we must consider peace as an option, it seems to me.Not just for the sake of the children, but certainly for the sake of the children.

Contemplating ..... the children of Uganda

Did you know that the population of Uganda is about 33.5 million and, of this, nearly 56% of the population are children. Ninety percent of all Ugandan children grow up in poverty. The life expectancy is quoted at anywhere between 53 and a generous 58 years, with women living slightly longer than men. Nearly 3 million children are orphans. Maybe the pictures help to put some faces to these numbers. The fertility rate is 6.3%, but the birth rate is 4.6%. The rate of maternal deaths in childbirth is 4.3%.

In 1998, Uganda passed a Universal Primary Education law and reports cite a 97% primary school enrollment rate, with 67% dropping out before completing primary school. Malaria accounts for the largest percentage of absenteeism among children enrolled in primary school. If you want more information about the status of children in Uganda, including crimes against children you can check out this site: http://www.anppcanug.org/wp-content/uploads/press_kits/The_Sit_of_Child_in_Ug.pdf

As I wander around with my camera, I have noticed that generally children are moving in groups and that the adults I am seeing near this university setting are watching out for the children. It seems to be everyone's responsibility to care for the children as they gather, play, work, and go to school. Yet, the many reports of child abuse and abandonment suggest that the challenges of parenting and the prevalence of orphans has put a strain on the nation's ability to provide sustained care for the children in the way many of the people I talk with would wish.

As I mentioned in an earlier Blog, I was quite impressed with the work of Caroline who is involved in bringing Children's Rights Awareness to Uganda schools in the Kampala area. She has been focusing particularly on the right of children to be heard, to have a voice in the school and in the curriculum and in terms of speaking up on matters that affect them.

Here are a few links to international children's rights organizations:
http://www.iicrd.org/
http://www.unhcr.org/pages/49c3646c1f4.html
http://www.childjustice.org/

THE EDUCATIONAL STORY FOR ME

Schools can be safe places where children are provided with opportunities to explore challenges in an educational environment. Seeing children recognize their value to their communities and their rights to safety, food, shelter, an education and freedom sexual abuse, sacrifice, other forms of violence, and unfair labor provide a start for the conversation. I like that schools are involved in this dialogue. I was surprised, actually, at how collectively open the children are about abuse and I life up my prayers that each of these children will experience some freedom from basic harms, like abuse and neglect. Perhaps we can all do that for the children we are in touch with. I have been taking a lot of picture of children, partly because I am drawn to them, and each of these children has their own story. Some positive, some negative, most a mix of the two, like we find anywhere. But Uganda has a larger than average rate of child poverty, orphans, drop-outs at primary level, health issues, and abuse. I had not before heard of contemporary practices of child sacrifice. I hope this kind of killing is rare. Despite the challenges, you see in my pictures, a resilience, a love of life, a happiness, that the children share even with a stranger.... a Mzungu.....a Barbara (which literally means stranger wandering in a foreign land).

Common Storytelling

Alright, Non-Ugandans, let's hear what you have to say. We are analyzing data from the interviews collected at two primary schools, one in the north and one in the central east side of the country. Children were asked to share stories which they had been told that they relate with peace. In this blog post, I want to share one of them.

Typically, in a setting with adults, when a traditional story is told, children are asked what they think is the point of the story. So we can start there. Also, you might think of traditional stories you know of which relate to peace. It will be nice to share these.

HERE  IS ONE OF THE STORIES THAT WAS TOLD.

"During hunger season, there was a girl, her parents used to send her to the bush, to pick wild fruits to be cooked. One day after picking the fruits a certain wild bird came and started singing to the girl. The girl looked at the bird and the bird told the girl that I can help you keep your wild fruits safely. So when I sing you listen to me. The bird started singing and flew down and started scattering the fruits and took them. When the girl went home she explained to her mother and the mother started quarreling. The mother went to pick the wild fruits herself and found that same bird which tricked her also.

The father went also to pick some fruits and still found that same bird, it tricked him and when it flew down to scatters the fruits he grabbed it and took it home. He put it in a box and told the children that they had got a radio. Each time they want to listen to music the bird should sing and asked them not to take out the bird when he was away. One day a neighbor went to grind and asked the girl to let her listen to the new radio. The bird asked the girl to let it sing from the door way, when the girl put it there, it again asked to be put in the middle of the compound. The girl put it there and it just flew away. When the parents came back, they asked who had let the bird go and were told it was the girl. They told her to always listen to elders when they tell her something."

Sitting on my front porch in the morning July 12

The breeze and the sun have already started their day.

Accompanying them, sounds richly invite me to the porch

As I marvel, still, at how strange it is to be so far from home.

Yet in this place, I am finding myself, also, at home.

I wake up knowing where I am and I smile.

I am ready to throw open the curtains and the doors

To step outside,

Allowing the outside to, also, step in.

Welcome to Uganda, I am told.

Welcomed, I feel.

They have welcomed this stranger in.

And I have wondered at its mysteries.

Animals that have Greeted me (besides Molly the cat)

Today I want to share some of the animals I meet outside my door. I already shared a picture of Molly, the cat. You can usually find her sleeping near the front garden in the morning, but by afternoon she has wondered over to the lunch cafe and by evening she seems out on the prowl.

Here is another frequent visitor! He greeted me yesterday when I arrived home. He never seems to mind how close I get to him so long as he has his eyes on  me. And, so long as he has his eyes on me, I am not that keen to get any closer.

Every day a flock of chickens with a rooster are hanging out. They don't really want me to get very close, so I only managed to get one of them somewhat at a distance.

 

Does anybody know what that stance is in chicken communication? Look how different from the Turkey.

Then this morning it was my pleasure to watch a beautiful blue-crested heron. I could not take a photo of that one, but I got one from the internet.

Lest, you think I am only visited by birds, check out the friendly dog who is happy to hang out with me on the porch.

And, last, though certainly not least, my favorite visitor of the day resulted in two homo sapiens catching up.

Mr. Okumu stopped in for a nice surprise visit, we talked, had lunch, exchanged deliveries, and greeted one another. It was wonderful most of all to get caught up with him. He is a wonderful person and I am glad to call him a friend.

I'll keep you posted on other regulars. I wish I could document the butterflies. They are stunning, but they defy my skill level of photo taking.

The sun is down. The music is out. The sounds are lovely. The sweet smells fill the air. Happy Friday Night from Africa.