DAY ONE/DAY TWO/DAY THREE

Hello everyone! This is our very first blog post of our Uganda trip. I have compiled the first three days into one post because we’ve been mostly travelling – from Heathrow to Dubai, Dubai to Entebbe, Entebbe to Mukono, and Mukono to Gulu – so no singing to be written of yet, but we’ll detail our exciting experience so far!

We hopped on a plane to Dubai on Tuesday 26th July at around 5pm. We had quite a long stopover in Dubai before our next flight, which might sound dreary… but having access to the Emirates first class lounge certainly made things more enjoyable! Tim managed to get us access through a connection with an old family friend. The amazing free food and drink definitely made the overnight stay worthwhile – we can safely say we’ve never before drank a martini with a curry, and probably never will again.

We slept most of our next flight, and before we knew it we were descending into Entebbe. After the long haul through immigration, we finally made it to Susan and Elly, who were picking us up from the airport. Susan and Elly are both contacts made via our friend Alison, the founder of the brilliant Seeds for Development charity we are working with. Elly is going to be our driver for our stay here, and Susan is the headteacher of an impressive boarding school in Mukono.

We were warmly greeted by Susan and Elly before being driven to our first hotel in Mukono. Watching Elly weave through the impossibly crowded streets of Uganda’s capital, Kampala, through torrential rain (turns out we’re here during the rainy season!) was both terrifying and awe-inspiring! It’s no surprise to us that Elly has a reputation for being an excellent driver – he used to be the driver for the American embassy, amongst other things…

Tim’s parents (Penny and Andrew…they visited last year, and their names will probably come up again) had mentioned how nice Colline Hotel was, and it didn’t disappoint. Our enormous memory-foam four-poster bed was definitely a sight for sore eyes after two days of sleeping on planes and in airports. Our first Ugandan beer (Nile Beer – thanks for the recommendation, Andrew) was also a delight.

After breakfast this morning, Elly drove us 400km north to our next hotel, the Dove’s Nest, in Gulu, where I’m currently sat outside writing this blog. The highlight of the dusty road in the heat was definitely driving over the River Nile, and shortly afterwards being ambushed by some baboons! Here they are here:

After what feels like weeks of travelling, we’re ready to get properly stuck in with the communities that are apparently awaiting our arrival. Here’s one last happy picture of me drinking some Nile beer this evening…

Lessons from Uganda: A Summary of Our Trip

We’re back in drizzly, cold England, in Tim’s hometown of Guildford. After a thirteen-hour flight, the coffee Andrew and Penny made me just about brought me back from the dead.

Our flights home aren’t really worth writing about, but I thought I’d finish this blog by summarising a few of the things I learned in Uganda, and will take with me. I see this as a kind of way to pay tribute to the hospitality of such a wonderful place.

1. Human beings can be astonishingly resilient in the face of loss and suffering. All the communities I met through Seeds for Development had been terribly affected by the civil war, through loss of friends and relatives and/or living in one of the displacement camps for years. And all the individuals and communities I met carried amazing stories of survival and bravery, and were some of the seemingly happiest people I’d ever met in my life.
2. Ugandans have a tangible and permanent sense of community. Here in the UK, comparatively this is something we lack. Broadly speaking, our lives are spent in our domestic confines with our domestic, nuclear families. The communities we met were comprised of people who slept in mud huts, but lived the remainder of their waking hours outside, amongst their families, and friends, and friends of friends. I’d never met such sociable, friendly children, and my guess is that this is because they have been taught to socialise with anyone and everyone since the day they came into this world. In any community we visited, any of the babies or toddlers present would be passed around between dozens of people. There is an unspeakable bond between people that silently offer help, support and friendship to one another. We Brits need to get to know our neighbours more.
3. After the war, infrastructure and any semblance of normality in these northern communities was entirely lost. The LRA left a path of physical devastation wherever they went, meaning that communities had to build themselves up from nothing, after schools, homes, crops and livestock were destroyed. I think it’s probably near-impossible to imagine the length of time it can take for ordinary citizens to recover from war, and how complicated and difficult this process is. Many of these people so badly affected in such isolated, rural areas feel forgotten about by their government and, indeed, the rest of the world now that the war is over. As in any country, government money and resources are generally pooled around the nation’s capital, which is troubling for northern Ugandans as it is they that need the most support. Ten years after the war ended, the gap between north and south is still visibly and uncomfortably wide.
4. Teachers are the most important people in the world. I think I’ve probably been leaning towards this opinion for years, but no experience could have better cemented this truth for me. The solution to so many of Uganda’s problems, in the north and the south, is education; those who teach young boys and girls, who train farmers, who host apprenticeships, empower people individually and strengthen the economy collectively. It almost seems unnecessary to stress how much better a person’s prospects are, in Uganda or elsewhere, if that person has had a quality education. It also seems unnecessary to point out that the way to a prosperous and vibrant economy is diverse and widespread education. But we definitely do need to continue stressing these points, because Uganda and many (if not, most) other countries still do not prioritise education with the attention it deserves. In a country where, until relatively recently, education was often seen as a path to prostitution for girls, the work is far from over. Positive change, big or small, begins with education, and teachers everywhere, I salute you.
5. Uganda has as much to offer us, as we have to offer them. During our trip, education has been mutual, as has respect and admiration for one another’s culture also been. The best thing that can come out of globalisation is surely the opportunity to engage with other people and their cultures, and to actively seek to learn from and cooperate with one another. I think there is still much we can offer to these communities in Uganda, and still much that they can offer us, in time to come. I obviously can’t know what the future holds, but I feel my relationship with Uganda is just beginning.
6. I love pigs. Every time I saw a pig on a farm, I would squeal with excitement. I’m not sure why these animals have captured my heart. I think I find their haphazard manner sweet. Maybe they resonate with me.

 

Thank you so much to those who have been reading this blog, and to those who helped make our incredible experience possible. It’s been a blast.

Day Thirteen

This morning, we awoke early to the sound of howling dogs outside our window. Naughty dogs, but we didn’t mind too much, as we knew today was going to be an exciting one. The sooner it got started the better.

We are staying in Kasenge Riverford Organic Centre, around 15 miles East of Mukono. It is a huge farm situated on a hill, and a farming training and demonstration centre; farmers and aspiring farmers come from all over Uganda (and elsewhere) to be trained by owner charismatic owner Timothy and his partners. During our stay at Kasenge, in residence where also a group of young college students, who were staying for agricultural training. Timothy, managing director and head farmer, is another old Seeds for Development friend, and indeed, in the next few weeks there will be an influx of SfD farmers into his farm for training. The Kasenge Centre’s mission is ‘to improve household income and nutrition status of communities in Uganda with emphasis on the vulnerable people through improved organic agricultural techniques in a sustainable manner’.

After breakfast, Elly and Susan arrived to take us to Jinja, in South-East Uganda, to see the famous source of the River Nile! Being a big tourist attraction, ticket prices were high for non-Ugandans. Luckily for us we had Susan, who strode over to the cashier and confidently asserted that we were to have a discount, as although Tim and I look like a couple of English roses, we are actually Susan’s beloved Ugandan children. The cashier must have awarded us this discount solely on the basis that he found Susan’s joke funny!

We enjoyed a scenic boat ride up the Nile, and here we could see where Lake Victoria (the world’s second largest freshwater lake, that geographically spreads over four different African countries), expanded into the Nile – Lake Victoria accounts for 70% of the Nile’s water, and underwater springs account for the rest. It seems a cool thing to be able to boast that you have travelled to the source of the world’s longest river. We were surrounded by birds and velvet monkeys, and even got to see an enormous crocodile in the reptile park!

Lake Victoria

But the Nile wasn’t even the most exciting part of our day. In the evening Elly and Susan took us to the Ndere Cultural Centre in Kampala, for the most incredible show we’d ever seen. The Ndere Troupe are a phenomenal group of young dancers, singers and instrumentalists, who performed traditional dances from every main tribe in Uganda. Every dance told a story and involved a variety of percussion and indigenous string and wind instruments. The evening was a self-pronounced celebration of music and diversity, and the passion and skill that went into every dance left Tim and I wide-eyed and gawking throughout.

The Ndere Troupe during the traditional Acholi Dance

Day Eleven

Today was our last day in northern Uganda. Tomorrow Elly will drive us down south again, back to Mukono where we spent our first night. Today was mostly dedicated to wrapping up our trip in the north. There was no singing today, but we instead made a couple of visits to old Seeds for Development friends in the area.

We first travelled around 30 minutes north to meet “the Nighties”. Nighty’s story is one relatively typical in northern Uganda. She lost her husband and family in the war, and as such afterwards was left isolated, bereft and unable to adequately support herself. When Alison found her alone in the bush years ago, Nighty was alone, and living in dire poverty; today, Nighty is able to support herself and save money through farming, and has a wonderful community surrounding her, her dedicated team of “nighties”, all thanks to Alison and SfD. Nighty was in amazing spirits, and reiterated several times that we had to pass on her best wishes and regards to Alison when we returned home. Elly seemed overjoyed to see how SfD is helping the Nighties, as compared to his previous visits there has been significant progress with farming and upkeep of the area.

Nighty, showing off the farm’s new baby goat

For lunch, we were welcomed to Devon’s home nearby, where his wife had prepared for us a delicious meal which included Tim’s new favourite food, ‘posho’, made of maize flour (I think it tastes a bit like carboard, but each to their own). Devon is another SfD friend I have loved getting to know over the last 10 days. His support has been essential for our trip – being the respected farmer and social butterfly he is, he has facilitated us to engage with the local farming communities. It could be said that Devon’s success – that is, having a rich and happy life, as well as being professionally accomplished – has been against the odds. During the war, Devon was abducted by the LRA and forced to become a child soldier. The name ‘Devon’ is what he declares himself professionally, but many friends still refer to him as ‘Demon’ – the name the LRA assigned to him during his time as a child soldier, because of the awful atrocities he was forced to commit. Hearing Devon’s story has reiterated for me just how traumatising the war was for so many, and how admirable it is that these people today proceed with their lives with such optimism and grace. My lasting impression of Devon after this trip has been that he is good-hearted, intelligent, and has a wicked sense of humour.

 

Devon and baby Penny – he has a remarkable gift with children

Devon also showed us around his impressive farm, with maize crops growing twice the height of me. As previously mentioned, Devon is the head farmer of SfD. Although Devon already visits many farming communities around Gulu and Kitgum, SfD have ambitions to open up a prestigious farming centre on Devon’s land, where farmers will flock from miles around to be trained by this esteemed expert.

Later, we said our farewells to some of the friends who have supported us on our trip – Devon, Pamela, and Simon, who is the head of the growing SfD coffee project in Uganda. Back at the hotel, before these goodbyes, we had a productive meeting to discuss the trip and what we thought went well, what could’ve gone better, etc. Overall we were in agreement that this experiment went better than we could’ve hoped! Every place we visited, the communities turned up in great numbers, were constantly engaged with our choral workshops and seemed very interested in participating in a choir festival. This serves as a huge motivation for all of us – Tim, I, and other SfD leaders – to make this choir festival! We concluded the meeting and said our goodbyes feeling more determined than ever.

Day Ten

Today was my favourite day so far, for a few reasons. We finally visited James’ school, Vision Hope, were invited for lunch at his home, and I finally got the chance to talk to some teachers and farmers about health and sexual education.

We spent a long day in the community of Lambogi, visiting Vision Hope primary and nursery school, and the local farming community, their parents. We had been looking forward to meeting the children and teachers of Vision Hope, as this is the school of which James is headmaster. It was wonderful to see that James’ passion for learning, and his zeal for life generally, has definitely permeated the school’s atmosphere. There were four small classes, and as we passed through each classroom we were greeted with a huge variety of different songs and voices, welcoming us. Each teacher could capture the attention of their students with the words “smart children!”, to which they would chant back in fullest voice, “smart teacher!”. Smart children indeed.

Peeking out of the windows of a classroom

 

Our singing workshop with the children went brilliantly. We sang Tim’s hardest arrangement – ‘We are Vision Hope’ – with the oldest class, and then joined the rest of the children to teach another song. The whole school then taught Tim and I a dance.

The farmers and teachers were similarly impressive singers. It never fails to make me smile when Tim manages to get a whole crowd of grown adults in fits of laugher over his warm up techniques – “before we start singing, we first have to warm up our bodies!”, queued by everyone shaking it all about, Hokey-Cokey-style.

By far the most rewarding part of the day for me was the conversation I had afterwards with the female teachers of Vision Hope, and the mothers of the female children. When, months ago, Alison asked me to provide some women’s health education out here in Uganda, I wasn’t quite sure what to teach. I later discovered that any discussions I had were to be quite focused on the young girls, and common problems that jeopardised their education in Uganda. So this is what we discussed.

I thanked the mothers and teachers for coming out to listen to me – I hadn’t expected so many. I even had three teachers who translated for me in the native Acholi language. I had been told by Alison and others that the most essential thing for me to stress was the benefits of keeping these girls in education. I had an emotional conversation with James a few nights back, in which he had expressed how upset he is that throughout Uganda, often when girls start puberty and begin to get their periods, they drop out of school, out of shame and embarrassment. Things are no different in his community – the oldest girls in Vision Hope, or those whose parents have managed to afford secondary school, very often drop out of education when their bodies start to mature. These teachers confirmed that this indeed was a big problem for their school; it was devastating to hear that when a period comes, usually in the absence of sanitary products and even sometimes underwear, these poor girls run home. I discussed this problem with the teachers and the mothers, and stressed the importance of sitting these girls down, at a young age, to teach them that this daunting process of menstruation is absolutely natural, merely the (inconvenient) way their bodies prepare them for a potential pregnancy. I encouraged them to have open and frank discussions with their girls, and to support them completely, in whatever ways they can, when the time comes for them to start their periods.

The other topic to come up during our discussion was underage pregnancy – or, in other words, sex ed (sexual education)! I, again, reiterated the importance of having frank and uncompromising discussions with the girls about the biology behind pregnancy. I have been told that young girls in Uganda become pregnant simply because they do not scientifically understand how they become pregnant, and are taken advantage of by older men. James explained to me that in Uganda, sex education for young ones is scarce due to the culture that prevents people from discussing intimate matters such as this. They were amazed to hear that I was first introduced to sex education in primary school, aged 11 (if you’re reading this, thanks, Ms Fawcett – I vividly remember our formative lessons!). Again, using my innate inability to feel embarrassment around such issues, I heard myself fervently telling these women that the most obvious answer to this problem was frank, unambiguous, unadulterated discussion with their students and daughters. I know that in these northern, remote, rural parts of Uganda, without the easy medical access and finances needed, transparency may be all these women have. Linking to this, I also mentioned that within sexual education could be taught HIV prevention. In Uganda, the percentage of people diagnosed with HIV is 7-8%. It has been worse, but there is still much work to do to combat this problem. Above all, I reiterated that a long and fulfilled education for these girls is the best medicine they can receive. Do everything you can to keep your girls in school, I said.

Whilst listening to the teachers translate, I eagerly tried to read the expressions on these women’s faces, but came up short most times. I worried that these women, intelligent and experienced, felt patronised or dismissive of what I was trying to teach them. But not for the first time, the kindness and gratitude of Ugandan strangers touched me. After I had finished my talk, these women communicated their thanks to me, asking me questions, genuinely interested in my advice. They recognised the problems of their community, and resolutely agreed with me when I argued that their girls deserve equal opportunities to men. And again, not for the first time since being in this country, our new friends were keen to know when we would be back to visit.

 

 

Day Nine

Today took us to Nge Kidi, and we sang with another community of school children and farmers.

We were very impressed by the high standard of singing from this group – they could sing in the rounds and harmonies Tim taught better than most so far, and there were some fabulous leaders, both parents and children. We were especially impressed because of the relatively small number of singers. Nge Kidi is a community with a significant problem at the moment – their school roof blew off in February. As a result, school attendance has dropped markedly, as these children are forced to learn either in the blazing sun or under torrential rain during this season. Maybe twelve or thirteen children came to school today for our singing, but they certainly did themselves proud. We told them they’d be strong competitors in the choir festival.

The team (Devon, Tim and James) clearly delighted with the results

We listened to a very long discussion about the school roof between the teachers, parents, Devon, James and Elly. Elly, normally a wry, knowing observer to our antics, was unusually conversational with the locals. It came from a place of genuine concern about the roof and the effect on the children’s education, and he even supplied the teachers we met with gifts he had bought himself. As we understood it, the roof had not yet been fixed by the community because there are some attempting to convince the community that the school is to turn private, as soon as it is fixed. In a poor area where farmers certainly could not afford to send their children to private school, this is a vicious rumour. The farmers assured Elly that they are doing the best they can to convince the community to help rebuild the roof.

Behind the school, with the missing roof

We are now back in the Dove’s Nest, Gulu, with more reliable internet! After learning we hadn’t tried the ground-nut butter in Uganda, our favourite hotel staff=member has since gone to the market to buy us a tub of our own. A lovely gesture!

Over dinner, James and Devon told us the story of their tribe, the Acholi people. Their ancestors came from South Sudan, north of the Ugandan border, and myth has it that the Acholi tribe was formed after a split between two brothers, Labongo and Gipir. The story is a long one, involving an elephant, a spear, revenge, death and family estrangement!

James and Devon are close to the point where they finish each other’s sentences. They were childhood friends, who met in the same displacement camp during the war. And when they are together, you can easily catch them joking in their native language, giggling like children.

Day Eight

Pleased to report that today was even hotter, and that we have now reached the forth power cut and counting! It was an interesting day to be staying in our hotel, the Kitgum Royal, because there was a conference organised by the UN Women! The aim was to apparently to encourage women’s involvement in politics in Uganda. I, of course, approve wholeheartedly and beamed enthusiastically at the guests whenever I was walking through.

Today was similar in many days to yesterday. We were in the remote village of Paibor and did some singing with a nursery/primary school, and the farmers there, who were usually also parents of the children. Similarly to yesterday, we were pleased to see the farmers take an interest in the choir festival. Every new group we sing with strengthens our resolve to make this happen!

Tim dancing

My conversations with James were one of my highlights of today. Anyone that meets James Okumu knows what an extraordinary character he is. For those that haven’t read my earlier posts and need some context, James is a good friend of Seeds for Development and the headteacher of a nursery and primary school, Vision Hope. James was very clearly born to teach; one of the many charming aspects of his character is his frequent storytelling, always engaging and informative. As we were dodging through the maize on the acres of Paibor farms, James told me his life story.

Sweet potatoes growing

He told me about how keen he has always been to keep educating himself; how he had to pay for his secondary school fees himself by farming. Sometimes he would be sent home from school for not paying his fees – there is no free secondary education in Uganda – and how he would work intensively in the fields for a couple of days in order to make enough money to get back into the classroom. His education was interrupted by the war, as all the schools in the north were closed, and he was abducted by the LRA before managing to escape. He says that if they knew he could read or write, they would have kept a closer eye on him to help him translate for them. Despite his hardships, he still managed to complete his education and has been a qualified teacher since 2000. He has since gone on to gain a degree in English Literature and Language, and is interested in doing a Masters in English Literature. This is why the other day he had asked me how many scholarships they are at universities in England, he said. If he came to do a masters’ in England I would be pleased to be able to see him again, but sad for the school children here that would miss him in his absence.

Day Seven

Tens of thousands of miles south of England, just above the equator, today in Uganda was hot. I spent too much time wandering around the bush in between the singing, trying to glimpse the alien wildlife. Despite the sun cream, my face is definitely on the wrong side of “flushed”. I like to think I look sunkissed, but really I just look like a tourist. Today we travelled a few miles out of Kitgum to Potuke and similarly to yesterday, met the local primary/nursery school and farming community.

There couldn’t have been much more than 40 children at Potuke school. The teaching environment consisted of one hut, that had been resourcefully divided into two rooms. Tim and I interrupted the older class by stooping inside to watch them practise the alphabet.

One of two classrooms inside the hut

Potuke school was set up by Alex Latim, who was raised in the area and has since gone on to found the Forgotten People’s project, another organisation that focuses its efforts on improving the lives and communities of those in northern Uganda devastated by the civil war. Alex is now a strong partner of SfD and it was great to talk to him this morning, and to see how clearly fond of the school and the children he is.

After more welcome songs (which by now I think must be one of the most constant features of Ugandan culture!) we taught the children a couple of songs. Whilst we were practising, I noticed a very young boy crying and shivering. He was taken aside and I was told quite matter-of-factly that he was crying because he has malaria. In a community as far out in the bush as Potuke, I worried aloud that it must surely be diffucult for his parents to reach a health centre for medicine. It was a sobering reminder for me of how vulnerable children in these socio-economic circumstances, out in these isolated communities, can be in terms of health – many of these children were also suffering from kwashiorkor. Never the less, their singing was enthusiastic and after a bowl of porridge each, they charged around energetically, kicking around a football with Tim and trying to sneak into Elly’s jeep in fits of giggles.

These sunglasses never fail to make me friends

After some playtime with the young ‘uns, we were given a tour of the farms, houses and huts around the community, introduced to several farmers through Devon, whom I should have mentioned previously! Devon is an integral part of the SfD team as he is our head farmer, and thus essentially leading all SfD’s various farming communities. Devon is an enthusiastic singer, although not as enthusiastic as James. No one is as enthusiastic as James. The farms around Potuke were another shining example of SfD’s impact – we walked over acres and acres of maize, ground nuts, cotton, and many fruits and vegetables.

The sporadic, torrential downpours here mean that it’s currently harvesting season in Uganda, and so the farmers were hard at work. This meant that on returning to the school, the farmers who had gathered for our singing were less in number than we would have hoped. We were, however, pleasantly surprised by the enormous sound this group effortlessly made! Arguably the best group of singers we’d heard thus far, our delight only increased when the farmers afterwards began enquiring about our idea of a choir festival later this year. Although this festival is still very much a hypothetical for the time being, it was still very encouraging to hear their interest expressed.

In Kitgum tonight, the rain is torrential again. Second power cut and counting!

Day Six

Today we travelled to Otici, a very rural village north west of Gulu, right out in the bush. There we were welcomed by three communities – St Peter’s Nursery and Primary School, Kanerac and Olinga. Kane Rac and Olingo were two farming communities.

The road to Otici was treacherous. Halfway through our journey there, after watching Elly navigate us through the muddy dirt track, filled with enormous, water-logged holes, I couldn’t help but exclaim that Elly must be some sort of magician, much to my embarrassment after uproarious laughter from everyone else in the car. My outburst seems far-fetched, but you would understand if you had seen the conditions of these roads!

When we finally arrived at Otici, we knew that St. Peters had clearly been dutifully awaiting our arrival for some time. A young army of 30 or more singers immediately burst into song as we climbed out of the jeep; our musical greeting was in English to properly accommodate these very English-looking guests. Both children and farmers made sure they had properly greeted us with formal introductions and songs; we could clearly distinguish “welcome!”, “welcome!” punctuating nearly every song. Once we’d been introduced, we got going with the singing and Tim taught the children a song that was made into a round.

I’d noticed by this point that the rain had started splattering through the trees…and right on queue, I could hear Elly fretting about the rain rendering the roads mud. Our life really is in Elly’s hands this trip and by this point we trust him entirely, so on his command we rushed through a final song with the farming communities, before taking a quick couple of selfies with the children and jumping into the car. We were sad to leave Otici so soon, however Elly’s premonition about the state of the muddy roads was painfully accurate…we nearly got stuck and had to be rescued by some nearby truck drivers, who were armed with bags of charcoal to plug the muddy holes in the road!

The “road” in question!

Late this afternoon we drove to our next hotel in Kitgum, a town smaller, remote and further north than Gulu. We’ll be spending a couple of days here and after a fascinating conversation with James, I particularly can’t wait to visit his school Vision Hope. James has big ambitions for his school in terms of gender equality and girls’ education, and is keen for me to have discussions with his teachers about girls’ health education.

Day Five

Good evening from Uganda! We had a wonderful day, spending time with a very special Seeds for Development group – the ‘Koro child mothers’.

The stories of these girls are heartbreaking. All the girls in this group (there are around 50) were abducted by the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) rebels, forced into child marriage and raped. After Alison heard their stories, SfD helped form this group in 2011, based on the idea that these girls could form a community within themselves, able to empathise and support each other through common experience.

It was amazing to meet these girls (now strong and formidable women) and their families, and to hear how successful they are now becoming. Seeds for Development has helped these girls in many ways – not only bringing them together to facilitate emotional support, but also helping them become self-sufficient economically. SfD has provided these women with enough seeds to grow an acre of beans each, enabling them to progress to commercial group farming. On the tour Tim and I were given of the community farms and houses, we could see that these girls were becoming a real farming community – bananas, maize and okra were in abundance. SdF have also helped facilitate a network with the NGO ‘Send a Cow’, who haven’t just provided the community with cows, but also provided invaluable information and support linked to livestock and other farming practises. These cows are proving extremely profitable for the child mothers, and some are now able to pay for their children’s school fees using the profits from milk sold in the town. The girls have also been taught how to make beautiful jewellery (I bought two necklaces and some earrings today), and were provided with nine sewing machines. In Uganda a sewing machine can prove rather profitable, and these girls indeed told us of the benefits they were reaping, and their plans to train more students to use the sewing machines. SdF have evidently empowered these girls to become more business-minded than I might ever be!

After our tour of some of the farms, we were introduced to the community via Pamela, who kindly interpreted for us. Afterwards, we did some singing, directed by Tim. The girls immediately got stuck in and it didn’t take long before they had learned a couple of songs in harmony. Tim’s animated technique was received joyously by the girls, who did their utmost to mimic his enthusiasm! To pay our respects to one of the oldest (if not the oldest) member of the community, we sang a song praising Grandma. Grandma is over 90 years old and wished us to pass on to Alison the news that these days she is well, if not for feeling the cold a bit more than she used to.

Tim delivering a choral workshop to the ‘Koro Child Mothers’

After our choral workshop, the girls performed an incredible dance for us. This dance is known as the ‘Royal Dance’, performed for only the most revered guests, which, of course, was a great honour for us! The dance was accompanied by some young boys on hand-made drums, skilfully using wooden sticks to beat complex rhythms. The coordination and cooperation needed for this kind of spectacle, which involved dancing, singing and percussion, was a testament to how close knit this community is. It really is impossible to convey the energy of this dance using words alone.

Again, our experience of a community so devastated by the LRA has not been one of pity, but of admiration. From the moment we arrived till the moment we left, we were surrounded by infectious positivity. The spirit of the girls and their community left my face aching from smiling.

Entertaining Nancy

Day Four

This morning we were delighted to meet more Seeds for Development contacts that would be accompanying us for the day – James, the headteacher of a school that Seeds helped set up, Pamela, Seeds’ sole paid member of staff in Uganda, and Penny. Penny is a very special new addition to the Seeds family. If you read my last post, you might recognise ‘Penny’ as Tim’s mum… After meeting mother Penny last year, Pamela decided to name her new baby ‘Penny’ also! Baby Penny isn’t yet 3 months old and she was sweet as a peach.

Tim’s first ever time holding a baby went swimmingly

Today was a very special day for us, one I know I’ll remember always. We travelled to Parabongo school, around 30km from our hotel. There we attended a commemoration ceremony, marking 21 years to this day that 22 men and boys from the local community were brutally murdered by the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA). This anniversary went hand-in-hand with a book launch – a book named ‘Massacre Under the Mango Tree’, detailing the events of that fateful night, the repercussions for the community and individual survivors’ testimonies.

Alison, being a long-term supporter and friend of Parabongo school and the community, was invited to attend the ceremony and give a speech; Alison couldn’t attend, but in her absence asked Tim and I if we could go instead, to represent her and Seeds for Development. Alison wrote a message for the community which I delivered at the ceremony, and it was a genuine privilege to do so. The warmth that emulated from the people of Parabongo when talking to us about Alison made us very proud to be there on her behalf, and very proud to be continuing the work of a wonderful charity that has clearly made such a positive impact to so many people, in so many ways.

Our day at Parabongo was understandably somber, however there some upbeat singing from the schoolchildren acted as a lovely interlude to the speeches and prayers. The spirituality that fills every song was a feature I saw in Tanzania a few years ago, and these children in Parabongo carried a similar, vibrant energy with them in their praises. Tim and I even enjoyed a dance with the children, although admittedly we tired out long before they did.

The welcome we received and the gratitude expressed for our attendance, and for speaking at the event was humbling. In the message I delivered from Alison, she makes great emphasis of the admirable way in which these traumatised people, relatives and friends of those murdered, have managed to use their grief to bring themselves and their community closer. The atmosphere at the event was overwhelmingly one of solidarity and support. Watching this ceremony, we couldn’t begin to comprehend what this community suffered; all we could do was to be quietly inspired by their courage and dignity.

 

The ceremony around the memorial for the 22 lives lost on 28th July 1996