Sinister, Dexter, Sinister, Dexter, leave no one behind

Would you rather be sinister or dextrous?

I write with my left hand. This has caused a few problems for me. Writing from left to right, it is easy to smudge. Left-handers adopt curious pen grips and writing techniques to avoid this, leading to cramps and dodgy handwriting. Scissors are made for right hand use, so we have to grip them differently to get a clean cut. Other tools are similar, though I am not so markedly left handed that I need left handed tools for most jobs, and I play musical instruments and ball sports using the same grip as a right hander. As we are only 10% of the population, the world is not designed for us.

Rather more annoyingly, there are some common phrases and concepts in English, and other languages, that stigmatise left handed people. Dexter is Latin for right, so value is linked to being dextrous and right-handed (as the word right suggests), whilst sinister is Latin for left, and evil or deviant connotations attach to being left handed in many cultures. “Cack-handed” is a particularly egregious one, possibly referring to the left hand being used for cleaning oneself, and meaning that one is clumsy and perhaps unclean. Having two left feet is similar. Being brought up Catholic, I was also referred to as a left-hander in that context. Having a natural attribute that could be used as an insult makes me uncomfortable or angry.

Reflecting on this, I remembered how Francis, a disabled people’s representative in Uganda, argued at a meeting I attended that in schools, a percentage of desks should be adapted for children with disabilities, and others for left handed children. And I realised that I had experienced, in a very small way, some of what my disabled brothers and sisters do. They also inhabit a world that is not designed for them and experience prejudice and stigma, which is even embedded in the language they all must use. There is no escaping the fact that they are second class citizens in every way, even in many cases in their own families, and at the back of the queue for virtually all social entitlements that everyone else takes for granted. This helps me to feel even more solidarity with them, though of course I am far from claiming parity of disadvantage. (I attended a University that the TES currently ranks second in the world, behind one that we don’t mention, had amazing jobs, a nice home, good family life……). It does cost a bit of trouble and money to make structures and institutions inclusive for everyone; to provide wheelchair access, sign language interpreters, autism friendly events, sport opportunities for people with intellectual disability, Braille signage, etc., and to think about the language we use. But failure to do this means that we are saying “you are less than us” and by not including all of us in the human race, we are so much diminished. It’s loads better and more fun with everyone included!

I pick it for you from down

Uganda has over forty indigenous languages, but, largely for internal political reasons, none of them is an official national language. Instead the colonial language, English, and an East African lingua franca, Kiswahili, are officially used and there is a Ugandan Sign Language. English in Uganda, though is not always instantly recognised by those from the home country. This is because it is influenced by the forms of Ugandan languages.

The first aspect of this that I got hold of, helped by having learned a smattering of some other languages including Arabic and Kiswahili, is the phrasing of questions. In UK English we might ask “Did you go to school today?” This usually prompts a blank look, until you remember to just make a statement with a questioning intonation – “You went to school today?”. When we go for a little walk, countless young men on motorcycles pull up alongside and say “We go?”. They are boda-boda (motorcycle taxi) riders and I do not recommend accepting, especially in Kampala traffic as the mortality rate is high. Incidentally “boda-boda” is thought to come from the origin of the motorcycle taxi in the border town of Busia, as the riders would call “Border, border” to indicate the likely destination to potential passengers.

“You pray where?” means where do you go to church?

A “short call” is the briefer sort of visit to the lavatory.

If something amiss happens, or you say you don’t feel well, your companion will say “sorry, sorry”, to express regret at your situation, not as we would, to take responsibility for it. In a similar way, you may be congratulated with “well done” on any minor achievement.

Preparing a project with people involves mobilising and sensitising them, roughly equivalent to publicity/recruitment and education.

Pronunciation often varies markedly, and suggests that words have been learned from written rather than spoken sources. “Clothes” is often pronounced “clo-thEs”. Depending on the speaker’s origin, Ls and Rs can be similar or even interchanged and K can sound like CH. And adjacent consonants often find themselves separated by a 'helping vowel'. There's more information on the Wikipedia page on Ugandan English.

Family relations are different, society is patrilineal and there are different degrees of affinity between cousins whose parents are brothers and those whose parents are sisters, so “nephew” or “niece” is not an adequate description. So Caroline was more precisely identified as Barbara's sister's daughter. However, adults may be called “Uncle, Auntie” by any child or young person, and we are now sometimes called Mama or Papa by less elderly adults.

“Eating money” usually means corruption, embezzlement. 

“OK please” shows agreement. “Please” is not used as we do, when requesting something, Ugandan English is more direct here “You give me money”!

It’s not surprising we sometimes struggle to be understood.

Can you work out what the blog title means? “Pick” usually means something like “Get”.

It really isn't

#disabilityisnotinability

I’m very excited writing this; for me it was a spectacular day. We went back to the dusty mud brick Abeko Baptist Church, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. While we were meeting, Charles and Fred changed a tyre that had been punctured by a thorn. Sun beating down on the thatched roof, a gentle breeze making the heat more bearable. Slowly, the executive members appeared, some sweating from the exertion of their travels, one lady with a cannula in her hand as she was still being treated at the health centre. Men and boys sat on home made wooden benches and chairs, ladies on mats and cloths on the floor, some with babies at the breast.

I had belatedly remembered that we should have included an official representative of people with disability in the discussions and fortunately Francis was available to travel with us. He is an elected member for the region to a national council on disability, and his contribution took the meeting to another level of insight and effectiveness. First we had the required courtesies and introductions, prayers and expressions of thanks and hope. The chairman explained the genesis of the group, how they had decided to engage local cell representatives who, though not themselves disabled, had experience as community mobilisers working with Global Care. The parish is very rural and covers a large area so the local presence makes a lot of sense. Francis was impressed with the constitution David has drawn up, based on that at Atiira DSG, only making a couple of recommendations, especially the need to include formal representation of women and youth.

We spent some time as a group considering the needs that had been shared on Tuesday. People were able to give their opinions about the priority of education compared to meeting care needs or increasing household income. Someone pointed out that disabled people were sleeping in the open without shelter because they were physically unable to build their own homes. Of course they don’t have enough money to pay someone else to do the work. Children easily become discouraged from attending school if they are mocked by their peers, though they were encouraged to persevere by Francis. Through this discussion we got a better idea of how the group could work together on a strategy. I was also impressed that, while the group is thankful to Global Care for supporting the set up process, they do not intend to be dependent on continuing funding from them, but to develop a range of income streams including their own subscriptions. Mechanisms are also being put in place for proper recording of financial transactions, guided by the Village Savings officials.

Francis spoke then from his experience of the political world. He said that it was all very well to complain that their interests were neglected by politicians, but this is their opportunity to participate in the political and resource allocation process. He went on to explain that as a legally registered community group, they would be in line to receive funding when local government budgets were allocated. He even explained about the annual funding cycle and when they need to be ready with their plans. He explored other relevant topics. I was getting a bit weary, but the group was so attentive, and afterwards expressed their amazement at the knowledge that he was sharing with them. As we hoped, they felt empowered but also recognized their need for further training.

For me the experience confirmed that it is vital that these topics are addressed whenever possible by disabled persons themselves. Aside from the fact that Francis has far more experience and knowledge than any of the GC team, the fact that he is himself disabled and yet moves in these circles is so encouraging to these people in the village. He told them a story of a woman who was denied a bed at the Hospital, until he turned up in the office and mentioned that he could easily call the national TV programme to report on the issue, when suddenly two doctors appeared. So thanks and credit to him for being prepared to trek out into the country with us to support this group.

After the meeting we shared posho, rice, chicken, pork, and vegetables with our new friends, took a group photo and set off back to town. People on foot, on bikes and motorcycles, some carrying water from the various boreholes, all have to move aside as Charles hurls the Toyota down the dirt track, occasionally slowing down for a few cows, an extra bumpy bit of track, or a boda-boda driver who doesn’t want to give way. It scares me, but he has never been known to have an accident. We return Francis to his wife and family and Charles drops us at the hotel and goes off to get the tyre mended.

Next, we have been invited to Fred and Viola’s for a meal. This is a wonderful couple and we are so blessed to be their friends. Sadly this is our goodbye to them as we are leaving town on Monday.

A matter of life and death (again)

Today we were mostly busy around the Global Care Children’s Centre in Soroti. The team are still bubbling with ideas to improve the lot of vulnerable children, and are prepared to sit down and toil over the planning process, so we had plenty of work to do.

After saying good bye, we went to visit another centre that works for children in Soroti. Amecet N’ainapakin (Shelter of Peace) is home to a team that basically saves babies. Today, for example, they took in three new little ones, two whose mothers had died in childbirth, and one whose mother had survived but was mentally incapable, the baby had been fed only on sugar water for three weeks and was in a very weak state. The babies’ room that we visited was quite full with tiny people in cots and we tried to help soothe some, feeling rather overwhelmed. The sight of a very weak malnourished infant in the nursing room was very sad; if she doesn’t take milk better soon, she might need tube feeding for a while.

Kind friends from home in Yorkshire had made a large number of quilts for the babies’ cots and we took great pleasure in delivering them, and seeing Els’s delight. The quilts will help keep them warm and comfortable whilst they receive nursing care. Babies are usually sent home after a few weeks and often the quilt is sent with them, this can be helpful especially when the family has few resources, and it may make it easier to cope when the child may not even be their own.

Els and the team also receive children taken from abusive situations by the police, and they visit children in the local prison and take in regular supplies to supplement their diet. They are supposed to be sent home at the age of two but this is not always achieved so they have helped secure nursery school places for those who must stay longer.

I recommend the Amecet blog at amecet-soroti.blogspot.ug to learn more about this brilliant place. I feel privileged to know it.

Looking back on the week, I feel we have achieved a lot but the biggest new thing might be still to come as we go back to Abeko to work with the new disability support group there. Watch this space tomorrow!

No-one left behind

Today we visited the severely disabled children who were recently discharged from the Ark. There are more details over on darton2soroti.blogspot but here I want to say that I was relieved to find that the families were coping, some better than others, and that they were thankful for the light that the Ark project had brought into their lives. Again and again we hear that the projects with people with disabilities have a profound effect that is not easy to describe. I think it has to do with showing that each person has value, no matter what their condition. We do this by listening to people, treating them with respect, allowing them to determine what their needs are and how they can best be met, and offering assistance sensitively when we can. We cannot solve every problem, but we can stand with people, hear their story and find a way to show that we care. (The problem of how able-bodied society treats people who are different is not unique to low income countries, as the rise in “disability hate crime” in the UK tells us.) It was lovely to peer into a tiny hut and see a little girl with cerebral palsy being fed lovingly by her sister, enter a compound to find a boy in a chair playing with his sister, go to a nice little house and see a mother cradle her teenaged son while reflecting on the difficult decisions she has to make every day and the physical labour of caring for him. We just need to see a few more men getting involved!

We visited a school where the team have enrolled a boy who uses a wheelchair. They saw that his classmates and brother had to lug the chair up steps to get into the class rooms. So now the school is equipped with ramps and even a sort of accessible toilet (not perfect, but a step in the right direction).

Aside from disability, Global Care Uganda staff try every way they can to enable each sponsored child to succeed. For most, that means getting as far as they can within the national school system. They receive support to stay at school until S4, and achieve results similar to our O levels. Because of delays and interruptions to schooling, often before they were sponsored, they may be well into young adulthood by the time they complete school education. I have been in a primary school lesson and have never forgotten the overcrowded room, children two or more to a desk trying to follow a lesson on the blackboard that was over the heads of so many of them. So I have no illusions about the quality of schooling that many children receive in the name of universal primary education.

Sponsored children are selected from the most needy, therefore they tend to come from families that are poor and uneducated, and many have experienced disruption, trauma, illness or malnutrition in early life. All of this has an impact on their academic achievement, and the school system is very focused on passing exams. Therefore there is a group of children who are seen to be failing in school. Or, as one of our workers puts it, they are gifted in different ways.

So the dilemma has been, do we support these children through secondary school, or offer alternative vocational training, which may give them more chance of gainful employment?

Today we met some boys who have chosen training placements in Soroti. Global Care pays businesses to train them, instead of paying school fees. They are all teenagers, and the placements had to be cleared with the local police, to ensure that they did not fall foul of child labour laws. We walked in the hot sun down a street that was under repair. I wished I had anticipated the walk and brought my hat. Bleeping noises from a road grading machine reversing, even more red dust than usual. Along the road a series of sizeable buildings housing businesses like carpentry shops, metalwork shops and car service centres. Young men sweating in overalls, sparks flying from angle grinders, flash of arc welders, guys lying under cars propped up on blocks wrestling with wrenches.

It seems unusual to have a thirteen year old training as a metalworker. Already he can fabricate doors and similar structures, using welding equipment. He is enthusiastic about the experience, and has been assured of continuing employment within the business. For some of the other boys, training for example as car mechanics, the future did not seem quite so clear. We will continue to monitor progress and learn from successes in the other Ugandan project areas to ensure that the training is fit for purpose and the transition to paid work is managed well. We are excited about this programme as it offers a route to self sufficiency for these students.

We spent the afternoon considering plans to help the Atiira Disability Support Group with an income generating project involving a maize grinding mill. It seems good but we didn’t know enough facts about the financial aspects to be able to recommend it yet. Nevertheless we spent a joyful hour or two on a business plan and log frame!

It has been a very positive day, even if we ended it with as many questions as we started with, as usual.