The day we brought them clothes, they all ran away naked - the mother and her children.

In my employment life, I have had the privilege of working with or for children. Precisely, the Orphans and Other Vulnerable Children (OVC). In Uganda, the Ministry of Labour, Gender and Social Development has a website that has statistics about OVC. One can go there to appreciate the magnitude of this issue.

My first job with children was just after University. I was young and energetic! I had worked a bit with the Scripture Union of Uganda (SU) and I was full of power. Those who have associated with SU, however remotely will understand what form of power I am talking about. But that is the story for another day. Let me write about children.

On the 2nd day at my 2nd workplace, I was handed a big motorcycle to traverse villages in the current Rubirizi District in South Western Uganda. The key features around my operation area were Queen Elizabeth National park and the beautiful tea farms of Kyamuhunga. I would ride through twice daily, in the morning and evening. I would ride to the villages, in slopes and valleys. This was in 2009. I will save you the details but the brief is that I met with an average of 15 families daily. Later on, I was promoted to supervise colleague social workers. We did amazing work. You can read about it. I still have an opportunity to work with Children in my current job.

In my work with children, I have come to appreciate that their mothers have diverse perspectives about the well being of their children. I can tell you about the 3 types of mothers. I will use a short story for each category:

The all-out to defend mother  

The woman I will never forget was one who cut off the genitals of a man that she caught red-handed in a sexual act with her daughter. She had received a tip-off by a friend that her daughter who had left to fetch firewood in the nearby forest was actually with a man. She grabbed a sharp panga, moved swiftly and found the naked fellow. The next thing, blood was all over.  We can talk about what happened next but the story is not far. Ask Google.

The other is one who is the 'childless' mother. That is if there is anything like that. This particular woman was first married for 18 years, she could not give birth. Her husband abandoned her for another wife. With the young wife, the man got 2 boys. But the young wife could not stand the 'poverty' at least that's what she said. She left the man. After some time, the man was bedridden with a certain ailment. The first wife came back to care. This woman would have nothing less than ensuring that the stepsons get a formal education. One of them ran out of school. He would leave home so early and return after midnight. He spent some nights in the neighborhood. The woman cried. She told me that she would arrest him and handover him to me. One night, she did not sleep, she waited. At 3:00am, she moved and sat at the doorway until morning. We took the boy back to school. He is doing well.

The accompanying mother  

One morning, a woman came to me. She cried out. A Primary School teacher had defiled her daughter.  She looked so touched. We both agreed to go to the police and report the matter. The police were swift. They picked the teacher. The doctor's report conformed defilement etc. We spent the whole day moving up and down. The next morning, the same woman came to me, this time with her daughter. They had one request, that I should accompany them to Police to ask that the teacher be released. I couldn't! I refused! In hindsight, I passed by Central Police Station in Mbarara. The teacher had been given a police bond. The investigation was going on. We did all we could and there is a story to tell.


The saboteur mother 

Her husband died, she married another younger man. She had eight children. the program I worked with supported her children to attend school. During holidays, she sent her children to work around farms, they brought her the money. At the beginning of the school term, she did not send her children back to school. When we visited, she and her younger children who were home ran and hid in the nearby bushes. She told us to leave her alone.

The other was blind, she had one son. She used to move around singing for some money and begging. The program supported her son to start school. She pulled him off school to continue begging even when the program provided her with some incentives. When the child was sick and admitted to a good facility, she pulled him off the ward before he was well. To proceed with begging. The child missed taking his medicine a lot. His health deteriorated, he got TB, Meningitis, etc and died. The woman now had no helper, she died a few months later.


let's talk about fathers next time!

But be not deceived, the stories of triumph are more than those of support in vein! Its joy all over. W

e can have a dance.

let's talk another day!






 

One step at a time on the Road to Hope

Julius (left) speaking to Mark in November 2019.

Julius Emukule, 17 is a tall, handsome, confident and brave ‘young man’. He is athletic and therefore a fast walker.  The distance from his home village of Morekebu in Kwapa sub country to Tororo Hospital is about 8 miles. This is the distance that he has walked many times back and forth during three harsh episodes of his young life. He recounts the episodes thoughtfully with 'stature' of an old man.

In one of the tribes in Uganda, there is a common proverb that can be paraphrased as ‘stories of tribulations are not only told by elders but even by children who have lived through trouble’. Of course, the norm is that it is the old who tell stories. All sorts of stories. In fact, for this particular tribe, many homesteads still have fireplaces where young children gather every evening to listen to the escapades of their grandparents. 

The life story of Julius is an adventurous one. He tells it brashly and with the confidence of a conqueror. He has seen and experienced what some adults are yet to. Julius doesn’t know his biological father. All he knows is that his father was from some distant district and that he was not a good man. Stories are told about the man mistreated his mother until she left the marriage. She traveled back to her parents with two boys.  So Julius and his elder brother have grown up at their maternal ancestry home. 

Julius remembers a few days of fun with his mother. The few days are memorable though short. For the larger part of her stay with her two boys, she was tormented by a ‘strange sickness’ as everybody in the village called it. Together with his two boys, she trenched 8 miles to collect her medicine refills from Tororo Hospital. Months before she dies, she was unable to walk that long for her medication. This was Julius’ first episode of walking the 8 miles to collect medicine for one he loved. He had to do this in turns with his brother. One had to remain home to care for the sick mother as the other walked. The journey would begin before sunrise and end at dark. Almost all the time, there was no meal between the hours of walking. Sometimes there was a piece of sugarcane as an ‘energy booster’. Later on, the mother succumbed to AIDS and was buried in front of the house they live in up to now. At least she had escaped the horrendous pain she endured. 

“She is resting peace… ” Julius says. 

After the death of their mother, Julius and his brother lived with their old grandparents. Soon, the grandmother’s health deteriorated. She had been sickly hitherto though not bedridden. They were in and out of Tororo Hospital. Soon the second episode of walking the 8 miles resurfaced. This time, the walking was not as often because a team from Hospice Tororo visited and delivered the medication regularly. But sometimes it would be investable to walk. On all occasions, Julius picked Oral Liquid Morphine. The lack of this medicine caused sleepless nights at their house. The availability of it meant peaceful rest to their dying grandmother and to everyone in the home. Later on, the grandmother died of liver disease and was buried near her daughter’s grave. 

The house was now left to three ‘men’, the young Julius and his brother and their sickly grandfather. The old man became weaker by day. His energy was giving away. But he often confided in every visitor that he was a happy man. He was happy because ‘good Samaritans’ had offered to support his grandson Julius through school. He had been assured that Julius would be supported to continue school even after the death of his parents and guardians.  A team from Hospice Tororo visited the old man regularly. Julius and his brother trekked the 8 miles for the 3^rd episode to pick medicine refills for another they loved. The old man died due to prostate cancer in April 2019 and was buried near the graves of his wife and daughter. 

The episodes above have an average of three years between each. Whereas Julius was on and off for his school days during that period, his elder brother dropped out of school completely. He got married and started another life of struggle with his young family.

The main reason for Julius’s stay in school was the Road to Hope Program by the Palliative Care Association of Uganda (PCAU). The program supports child CareGivers on a range of interventions including Health Care, Psychosocial Support and Education Support. This program is supported by PCAU’s partner the Center for Hospice Care in Indiana USA under the arrangement of the Global Partners in Care.  

Julius’s story is unique but every one of the 58 children being supported by PCAU has a profound story. Suffice to say, these stories are not exclusive to children on this program. There are many other children who are vulnerable in Uganda. Statistics by the Uganda Bureau of Statistics showed in 2014 that of the  17.1  million  children  below  18  years  (over  50.7%  of  the  population)  in  Uganda,  11.3%  were  orphans,  8%  were  critically  vulnerable  and  43%  are  moderately vulnerable. Of those who were orphaned, 46% (1,108,080) had lost their parents through AIDS.

 

The story of Julius is, therefore, the story on the lips of many children in our country. What is paramount to note is that each of these stories can be changed. This year (2019), Julius sat his Primary Leaving Exams (PLE). He is extremely excited that he has attained some level of education. To him and his entire community, this was never envisioned given the circumstances surrounding his upbringing. Julius is an influence on his peers in the community. When a team from PCAU visited Julius at his home recently, he had just returned from giving a talk at his former primary school. As he waits for his PLE results, he has decided to offer his time to counsel his peers on virtues of endurance up to the end. In his former school, he is famed for his confidence in public speaking and presentation. Julius is hopeful that he will pass his exams to join a secondary school in 2020.

About the Road to Hope Program

The Palliative CareAssociation of Uganda (PCAU) in partnership with the Center for Hospice Care (CHC) in Indiana USA, established the Road to Hope project in 2012 with an aim of supporting child caregivers for palliative care patients to enroll in or proceed with formal education. The program was in response to a serious call by health care workers that PCAU should support them to address one of the key psychosocial pain cause among palliative care patients. The pioneer child on the program was George Bazeire who took care of his sick father till death and was thereafter left alone and frightened in a dilapidated house. To date, the Road to Hope Program supports 58 children from various districts.  The children are identified in collaboration with palliative care practitioners especially in the rural districts of Uganda.

Resolve to Change Today!

Let me tell you something.

I belong to an investment group with some acquaintances. This came up as a friendly thought by one of us and I am glad that it is revolving into something. When we started, all of us were quite serious about the idea. We agreed to meet once in two months and to make some monthly deposits to a joint bank account. The first four months we superb! None of us defaulted on deposits and we all attended meetings. You could say we were on fire for the thing.

Six months down the road, things started changing, people gave excuses for not coming to meetings. We had one of two missing every time we met. The one who we had designated secretary would not write minutes. Instead, we would try to recall action points of the last meeting and go on. It became a little vague but we pushed on until the end of 2018. In all this time, one particular member was the most unserious (that is if there is something like that). She missed meetings or she reported late at the venue. Her excuses varied from "... I have a catch up with other friends... it is so and so's baby shower, I had booked pedicure at the saloon...etc.

At the beginning of 2019, one of the group members suggested that we all re-commit. To build confidence, she designed a commitment form and put down indicators. It was all sorts of hard things like a heavy cash fine for turning up late for meetings, writing an apology, submitting an early notification for missing a monthly, deposit, etc... She even suggested expulsion from the group for some 'sins'.

Then we converged for a meeting in January. The lady who was the habitual latecomer was the first to arrive. She announced to everyone. ".... I want to let you know that for 2019 I have decided to be different... I will be on time... I will keep to my appointments and I will influence my surroundings.." She went on and on... We all laughed at her new style of stunts. She really sounded funny. Knowing her past behavior, we thought that she was making it up just because she had arrived at the venue on time and before all of us for the first time. The lady who hitherto missed meetings volunteered to be the new group secretary. We agreed, after all, we no longer had anyone to write up our discussions. If for nothing, we had another person to blame for lucking minutes.

 

After our meeting on a Saturday evening, she sent the minutes on our emails and on the WhatsApp group. We thanked her. She followed up with Direct Messages (read DM) on action points for each one. She was on time for the next meeting and minutes came after a day. She did the same at the next (extraordinary meeting to expel one of the now 'unserious' members). She is still swift and on time. It is now towards August. Her monthly deposits are up to date. Even when she was transferred to an upcountry duty station, she is always on time for meetings. It is almost obvious that you will find her sipping her favorite orange juice if you are late by one minute.

With the resolve by one group member, things have changed completely. We have all been compelled to change by her influence.

My request is that you pray for us to keep the momentum. We have redefined our vision and goal. I always look forward to the on-time short and meaningful meetings.

Think about making a personal resolve too.

See you sometime soon!

What a Difficult Customer!

Just last evening, I took a chair to have some look warm tea with honey at the place near the road. Its a bit raised and one can see cars as they pass the busy Entebbe road. Actually, I think its a great business idea. A place for tea for people looking for an evening. It could be that they are a couple or just someone alone from work wanting to enjoy some tea and a cookie. How about that? Anyhow, as I had my tea, two ladies approached. They wanted to take a table near mine but preferred that the waitress arranges the chairs in some way.

The waitress had just picked my order and was heading to the machine. That kind of machine that they punch in orders. it looks like a small TV on the wall. I think it sends a message to the chef once it punched. I like the whole idea that the waitress doesn't have to shout Tea and cookies! The machine does that.

So one of the ladies spoke in a rather harsh tone..." can you get us a place to sit ?" Please nyabo (madam), we are customers here... I don't even know why you cannot welcome us.
I saw the waitress responding so calmly and with a smile asking for pardon. I felt like she acted cool. But the lady was not done..."The table mat here is placed poorly...I think some of you didn't even do any catering course, you are here to learning on the job..." The waitress kept quiet... Then she moved away, maybe to pick something...maybe the menu for the customer to look at... as she stepped off, the customer had another demand..." can you now add another chair, actually two, we expect our hubbys to join us..."

Let me tell something, the chairs were just so near... I felt for the waitress, I got up and fixed pushed the two chairs to the customer.. By doing so, I didn't know that I had committed a mistake, the customer had turned to me..."You, all a long your work here...you saw us coming in and remained seated...you didn't welcome us...what type of customer care is this ?"
I stepped back, waited for my tea and enjoyed it... Its was a cool evening. I eavesdropped to some of the stories before the men arrived... All I can tell you is..."chose your partner carefully my friend" some of these people have too much on their mind...

Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time....!

Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end. Ecclesiastes 3:11

I like to think about things past and reflect. In my free time, I get hold of an old book that I read those days and just run through it quickly. I just feel good about it. sometimes this evokes a feeling of triumph. 
 I mean, I just remember how God has led me through  seasons and all I can say to Him is.."I will trust in you always Jehovah-Shalom ". 

Do you write down your prayer requests? If you do, pick up your hidden notes and look at 2, 3, 5, 10 years ago, you will be amazed. You will find that God has answered every prayer. It's actually ok that you don't remember all. By our nature, new things come. So we forget that, what we wanted badly and now want something new or better.

One thing for sure that I have proved through my life experience is that love and beauty grow. I can tell you, with absolute certainty that Omukyala is more beautiful. I look back to twelve or thirteen years when I first met her. She is now more beautiful and I mean both inside and out. Then my love for her has grown too. One may say that its an issue of memory but not at all. I appreciate her feelings, likes, and passions much better now. I have confidence that this will grow even more.  As we grow together, we are loving ourselves more and enjoying ourselves deeply. And God must be happy about this. 

I had written to you a short story about how I met this amazing gal. I can now tell you about our wedding. Not the whole story though. Just sentences about the beautiful day. It's just like yesterday. Nothing much has changed. In fact, the other day I passed the hotel where we had our reception. It just looks like the grass and the short trees of the time are still at large. It could be true. you may find some grass which lived then still there. 

On the eve of our wedding day, I traveled with my friend. He had some old car which served this purpose. I need to ask him where this vehicle is of late. It helped us a lot!  So I and my second best man drove to my wife's home. I and Eddie had a whole chicken. Then we set off with our wife and some two young gals. I think one was supposed to be a flower gal and another one of the maids of honor. Along the way, we had cool stories. But we also had an interesting one about the changing dress. I always didn't like the idea of changing dresses. That was then. It's now a different story.

On the day of our wedding, we woke up early and picked the gals for their saloon. Now, my best man would not have me wake up to at 5am but I insisted. The fellow reasoned that I needed to stay resting. How naive could this man be? I mean, even if I had stayed in my bed, my mind was out there. After all, we had shared the house with many of the boys. They stalking stories just before 5am. There was no way I would remain in bed. I just had to go with the boys to pick the gals. Some of the maids of honor overslept. So we devised means. A group of men waited to pick those that weren't ready while we delivered my wife to her saloon. I will leave out the details of our talk that morning but I can tell you that it was cool.

Our wedding was at 1PM, the wedding reception was near the Cathedral in such a way that the guests walked from church to the reception. In fact, some of the guests had a meal at noon and later walked to church. I am told that some of my people from the LC1 chose to have another meal after church. The church was full. We had great friends that sang for us.  We had friend ushering in guests at church. I am not sure they remember we owe them. 

One other thing I remember is that on unveiling her. She looked stunningly beautiful. I felt good about it. But now she is more beautiful. We have grown a bit, we love ourselves more, we talk more, read the Bible together, we think together more and we pray together more. It's just one thing we don't yet do together. We are yet to read a book together with a book from cover to cover. Who will give us such a good book to read together? We have done books but she will not read all of it. I only tell her the remaining story or all of it. 

I am just looking forward to the years to come. Then my friend Humura is in the picture and it's even becoming more beautiful. 

I wish you all the best in marriage, my dear wife! By the way, let's say you take us out today or tomorrow. How about that?

 

 

Be candid, respect everyone and behave my friend !

A smartly dressed lady with posh makeup on her and driving a sleek vehicle just committed a small mistake on the road. Bodaboda men have her. All sorts of abuses to her.

The taxi I am using is just near there. The driver is calm and quiet. the conductor jumps off walks quickly as if to help the lady shield off the bodaboda men who are increasingly abusive. Infant, they are shouting insults. The conductor joins the choir. I can tell you, this is a master at this song! The boy can abuse! The lady is looking at him with sort of an intent gaze. This earns her more abuse...her eyes, nose, shaved eyelashes, painted hair, painted lips, nose ring, etc...

In a while, a traffic police lady shows up, its all cleared quickly and we are on the road again.

Affect about 10 meters away, the driver stops, moves to the "conductor's door' askes him to hand over all the money he had collected and pulled him off the taxi... The driver tells the conductor to leave immediately! He tells him to back to some town along Masaka road.

The reason, the boy abused the boss! I mean, the taxi belongs to the lady! This conductor is a cousin to the driver who he recruited just before Easter break.

so we continue the journey as I chat with the driver! You know these drivers have cool stories, especially in the morning.

Of course, there are a number of lessons to learn from this short encounter. one of them is that sometimes we ourselves do clear the path to our own destruction.  It is important to always be candid, respectful and focused. Chose which war you want to fight. before any fight, ask yourself: what will I gain if I win this one? what could be the cost of losing such a war? 

"My friend was recently promoted...she has turned our work into hell..."

Sometime last year, I had resolved to come over at least once in a week to share something on work ethic. But I failed. I have been very busy of late. Somehow, things to be done continue to pile. A day passes and I only realize that I didn't accomplish all on my to-do-list. One morning, I will stop doing this list of thngs to do in a day. I will just hadle things as they come and at the end of the day go home not to remember anything until the next day. This must happen soon.

But that's not the story. It is here. I met a long time lost friend, she had great stories for me. You know those stories that date way back in time. This is a particular friend that I met way back after campus. We walked together a jouney to work. Yes we walked on foot to work. If this sounds funny, then you just dont know how cool it is to pray along the paths! Every nice vehicle that passes, you take, every nice perfume of someone waiting on the road for taxi, you take, and other things you will find. Some things like dead dogs. You walk passed them. So we walked, we prayed, we wished, we had great shoes that liked dust.

Just before the end of my friend's stories, she told me one that bothered me. She was angry with her colleague at work. She was mad at a 'former friend'.  Apparently, the colleague was recently promoted to deputize the head. The promotion had worked upon the colleague in tremendous ways. She acts funny. She wears higher hills. she is alway early at work. she had cut off all the yummy gossip! She nolonger posta regulary on the staff WhatsApp group. 

the character part aside, the colleague had changed the targets. She had set tough targets. She had also proposed some changes such as bio metric check in at work every morning. The colleague had lobbied a food supplier, contracted so that staff can have meals around the work place. This had 'killed' the walk out at lunch and break. But worst of all according to her, the colleague had introduced a scheduled annual leave system that auto calculates leave days taken. This means no more extra leave days thefts.

Somehow, the ED and HR Manager believed that these changes are cool. But this was detrimental to 'our freedom'. So my long lost friend is very angry. In fact she is a bitter woman of late. I met her with her 5 year daughter. they had branched to have some mashed potatoes at a cafe near a huge supermarket. I had branched off to gaze and classy people too.  After all the stories, the gal told me "... my Mamie is not happy these days....even the gate man at school knows...she hoots so hard every morning..."  Now, I don't want to imagine what the husband to my long lost friend would say. It must be interesting for him. I mean really. How do you sleep with a pissed of woman ?

Friend, you can avoid that bag of emotion at work. Take work for what it is supposed to be and live a life. Choose to play along. Yes act along! Respecting the legally instituted laws is the trick. Don't pretend. Face the facts. Regardless of anything, the work environment is evolving. At sometime, you will find new things that will call you out of your comfort zone. Come on, take a glass of warm water each morning, say a prayer, hug your husband goodbye and side kiss your daughter at the gate of her school. Take time to visit a long lost friend on a weekend, get to church on Sunday. Don't miss that mid week fellowship. Call your husband to a simple date on Sunday evening to boost energy levels to face Monday. On Monday early morning, shout out loudly in your bathroom and say...come on new week, its me and you here..lets roll! Do you have some cool music on flash disk ? Throw it along the way as you drive to work!

My friend, don't let your job be your life. To angry is to be alive but not that anger overshadows life!

Reply emails and work stuff in the most cool way. Don't keep a lot for tomorrow. Did I ever say this sometime ago, some rules, people and procedures at work will try to piss you off. Chose to be cool. I mean no need to keep quiet, reply in utmost love to every detail.

All the best!