Child Sponsorship: Bugiri

Three boys ate jackfruit and watched curiously from the roadside as we interviewed the first family about the school-age children and their needs. Visiting no fewer than seven homes, we collected information about more than a dozen children.

Our hope is to find school sponsorship for all of these children. Less than $500 annually provides three semesters of education (a full year), requirements (books, uniforms, etc.), and a small savings for occasional needs such as malaria medicine, mosquito nets, or pocket money (used for lunch at school). If you find your heart being tugged by one of these children, let me know or contact Mercy Uganda to get more information and to offer the suprise of hope to their families.

     

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Mzungu in Bugiri

Wherever we go I am an attraction for the local children – a freak show. Some children clutch their mother screaming, usually the younger ones. Some children stare curiously with mouth agape. Some children giggle and approach to touch me and then turn to run after poking me. When I take off my sunglasses and show my blue eyes, some gasp. These boys are enjoying jackfruit, a sweet sticky fruit abundant in this area that smells and tastes like Juicy Fruit gum. No hand shaking for me, but they did linger until we left.

Older children tend to hang around even after I shake their hands. These older children are treated to a lesson on doing the Electric Slide line dance. The effort occupies them and they forget about poking me in the rear and yanking my hair. Usually the older teen and early 20s girls make a real effort to join in. Lauren got a great video of this effort as we waited for our taxi to return us to Kampala, but the video won’t upload from Uganda so you’ll have to wait until I return to update this post.

This little one has a big belly. Often we wonder at whether or not these people can really be that hungry when their bellies look so full. Actually the bloating occurs from malnutrition. Not enough of the right nutrients in the body mean the muscles aren’t strong enough to hold the organs in place. Top that off with a good scare from the blue-eyed ghost and the poor boy didn’t have a chance when he finally noticed me.

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Homes in Bugiri

Off the dirt road, deeper into the residential countryside, away from where the Kitodha Mercy Women gathered for our welcoming party. Our skillful drivers took us one-by-one through various clay trails leading to clusters of mud huts. The paths were so narrow in some places that the saw grass and groundcover snapped and cut at our legs and feet. Adding to the complicated routes was the slick mud left by the previous day’s rain, which meant riding the sliver-wide edge of the skinny dry space hoping not to slide down into the mire. One of the three boda men skillfully navigated the labyrinth leading to each child sponsor candidate with only a little help from the local pastor.

I was struck by how similar these homes were to the ones found in Karamoja. One hut was used for sleeping, one for cooking and others that I was not entirely certain of their purpose. Each family group had several huts clustered together. Like rooms in a home each hut served a different purpose. The landscape was lush, thick, and green, unlike in Karamoja where the landscape struggled to resemble something green and was very scarce spare aloe plants. Unlike Karamoja too, no thorny fences were needed to keep out nighttime raiders. Further, Bugiri is a 3-hour drive from Kampala and Karamoja is a 12-hour drive. Remoteness adds a layer of sheltering from modern society.

The outdoor kitchen for a family of four. Four cups, four bowls, a water can, and a basin. Many families use their Ugandan utensils (fingers) to eat and thus silverware is a luxury. Each morning when I go for a walk, I see women straight legged bending at the waist to wash their breakfast dishes. Before they begin, though, water is hauled from a dirty pond or a well, depending on access. The families in Bugiri are no exception. Notice the thick greenery in the background. Bugiri is full of lush vegitation and the people in the area are good farmers.

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Two Dollies in Bugiri

Dark brown heavy linen fabric for the body, black yarn looped atop the head for hair, a sleepy face drawn on one side and a happy face drawn on the other. Pretty dresses made from Rick’s shirts with cute button accents. Matching ribbons in their hair and on their dresses add some flair.

The saga of the dollies continues; a box full is held in jail at the Kampala post office. What a day of rejoicing it will be when these girls are finally set free! Yet even though the last batch of dollies are still hostages, my mom made more beautiful dolls for me to deliver on her behalf. These dolls rode in my luggage on the big jet planes.

The giving began when the precious sight of this sleeping baby made me think of the sleeping doll. The mothers were just as curious about the dolls as the children, although they didn’t bust out in tears of fright when they saw them (or me). Bugiri was a great place to gift a few dolls because the women could use them as patterns to make their own dolls to sell in the market.

   

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Sewing Machines for Bugiri

Kyamagemule was the first group to receive sewing machines and Karamoja was the second group. Now Bugiri has four machines and the women were eager to express their enthusiasm. Just three weeks ago they received the foot pedal operated machines and in that time they’ve demonstrated how serious they are about being certain the gift is well managed.

They began by arranging for a professional tailor to train them. He volunteers his services and as I observed him with the ladies I could tell that he’s got a teacher’s heart. This tailor, like most other bush village people, has gone a very long time without employment and he seemed excited to share his skills with a community in need. We all love to be fulfilling our purpose.

The women organized themselves into three groups of four to maximize machine tim

e and training time. They meet regularly to learn sewing machine care and sewing skills. I was impressed by the written statement they’d developed about how they will operate together and how they will function within their small community. This is the only group to take such formal steps with the sewing machines to demonstrate to us their dedication to using the machines to better their circumstances.

Practice, practice, practice. The women, and a few men, have been practicing by cutting patterns from dust covered Tororo Cement bags. The company is located about an hour’s car drive from the main road (although they do not have a car) so I expect the bags are found in their dumpsters or at various construction job sites. After cutting them into patterns, the bags are sewn together as if they were real fabric. While they’re skills are still rough, I was exceedingly impressed by how far the women have come in just three weeks time.

The Kitodha Mercy Women’s group, as they have named themselves, began learning additional handcraft skills from other community members and is starting a farm to help supplement their needs. Something about the sewing machines and Henry’s exhortation has spurred this community toward innovation and prosperity mindsets rather than poverty mindsets. All they needed was the small gift of sewing machines and sound teaching to get them started. One of the biggest benefits we recognized in this group was that the sewing machines have united the community across cultures and religions. They are all dedicated to working together.

As with any small business, the Kitodha Women’s Group does have a few needs to help them move beyond sewing paper bags. Thread, scissors that cut the thread clean and that cut fabric without ruining it, fabric for clothing, and various closures (buttons, zippers, etc.). Just a few of these basic staples will get the group started in becoming self supporting. I am always amazed at how simple things can produce such vast change.  

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Kitodha Mercy Women

The melodious voices of the Kitodha women welcomed us in the ceremonial way that seems to be customary to Ugandans in the bush. They clapped and danced and sang until we finally moved to another part of the beautifully manicured lawn. Henry and Lauren delivered four sewing machines to the group just three weeks earlier so the two were recognized and we were all welcomed. Each time we visit a bush village I’m impressed by how welcoming the people always are.

Red plastic chairs sat behind a short coffee-type table to set us apart from the rest of the group. In a very formal and official manner we were welcomed and introduced through a translator and through Henry. I’m not sure why they all laughed when Henry introduced me. Music is a big part of the Ugandan culture and the welcoming ceremony tends always to include special music. Two girls, one whose name was Mercy, sang songs about mercy. The entire ceremony was arranged around the gift of mercy in tribute to Mercy Uganda.

This visit was scheduled so that we could check on the community’s progress with the machines and to take information about possible child sponsorships. The group was very open and forthright about their activities. Read more in later posts.

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Mercy Uganda Expands to Bugiri

Receiving the International NGO status means that Mercy Uganda must demonstrate a substantive presence in all districts of Uganda, particularly during the first year of operation. At that time the government will review our progress to see that we are fulfilling the requirements assigned under that standard. As a result, we’re expanding our child sponsorship and other ministry efforts into many districts including Bugiri, an eastern region about three hours from Kampala and an hour from the Kenyan boarder.

Lauren and I boarded the cram-packed taxi from Kawuku to Kampala and found Henry at the Shell station next to the busy taxi park where the Toyota vans were sent off in every direction. Weaving our way among the many signs indicating the destination for each taxi, we found the right vehicle and boarded. Henry and I were in the way back where the knee space was narrowest. He and I are both the same height, tall. Three hours of super squish but some great company with Henry. Street vendors reached in through the windows to offer everything from drinks, food, and candy, to handkerchiefs and cell phone air time. Along the way the taxi pulled over to an area where the street vendors again descended. Roasted chicken on a stick, some other kind of meat cubed on a stick, drinks, fruits, everything…if you don’t mind not knowing how your food was handled.

Henry’s mother lives along the route so we dropped in for a visit before heading into the bush. As usual, I admired her gorgeous array of fresh flowers. And, as usual, she prepared a meal for us beyond any expectation: chapatti, sugar cane, eggs, papaya, banana, and gee-nuts and sesame seeds (sounds strange, but it was fantastic). After offering our thanks, we said good-bye and hopped on three bodas that took us down the off-road trail leading to Kitodha, a village in Bugiri.

In a stretch, the trail could have been considered a two-track, but…that would have been a real stretch. Unlike Karamoja, the land was rich and green. I couldn’t help but be thankful that it hadn’t rained that morning or we would have boda’ed through slime puddles all morning. As it was our boda tires balanced on a three-inch-wide track with deep muck on either side. One slip and we’d become mud people. Half an hour later we arrived to the sound of music.

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