of Mice and Men

When you think about a visit to overseas projects you dream a bit about what you might hope to achieve but you know that a lot is out of your control. So when you make plans and set yourself goals and targets, you know that Providence as well as your own efforts will play a part in determining whether you succeed. And of course, besides the plans that are finally fulfilled or unfulfilled, there are unforeseen things that can happen, both good and bad.

Yesterday we set off to Abeko to visit the Disability Support Group that is now well established and getting into its stride with projects including the informal loans scheme, bee keeping, poultry and goat keeping, skills training and disability playscheme. They are a new group who do not have a lot of experience in business, so one aim is to review their accounts, systems and reporting to ensure that they can make the best use of resources and avoid costly errors. In order to set up a meeting like this I had to negotiate by phone from home with David in Uganda, hampered by the difference between UK and Ugandan English and the lack of a shared vocabulary for business matters. Then David has to communicate what he thinks we agreed in the Ateso language with the DSG team.

So naturally you arrive on site, a bit travel sick and delayed by the wet conditions and the broken bridge and there is a different set of people that you don’t necessarily need to spend time with and the documents you hoped to review aren’t there, if they even exist, and the ones that are there are not easy to understand, and there are lots of people waiting about that probably want to interact with you, and some people have to give speeches, and someone couldn’t get there because of a funeral and some others are missing because of the broken bridge and you don’t know if you are being rude and unreasonable in what you are asking for, or if you are being told what people think you want to hear. You go around and visit some sites and come back to review documents and talk. What you want to find out is quite complex and you won’t fully grasp whether you have everything you need until you check through it later. Then thunder is heard and we are told we have to go because the makeshift road that bypasses the broken bridge will soon become impassable when the rain comes. But first we are to eat the meal that has been prepared for us. Rain starts while we are still eating and I bolt down the last of the chicken before running out of the door, apologising to people who wanted to see us today.


On reviewing our data and drafting a report, we have nearly everything we need, thanks to good teamwork, and we know what we need to find out on our return visit on Friday, when we will concentrate on the playscheme.

And as ever the real heroes of this story are the people on the ground; local staff certainly, but even more so the Abeko community members. They have risked a lot on this project, mainly in hope of helping disabled children in their households and community. For us, if this project fails, we can put it down as a learning experience and move on. But they are making a significant investment of time and a big portion of their limited financial resources, without the assurance of any return at all. We are inspired and humbled by the boldness of their response to the challenges these families face, and proud to stand with them.

Bob the Mouse kept quiet yesterday. Probably he was thinking of the Burns poem referenced in the title and praying that these schemes don’t “gang agley”*.

*I am quoting from the 1785 Robert Burns poem in Scots “To a Mouse (On Turning Her Up in her Nest with the Plough)”, which includes the line ‘the best-laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley’ – meaning they often go wrong. It ends thus:

But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best-laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!

Still thou are blest, compared wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e’e,
On prospects drear!
An’ forward, tho’ I cannot see,
I guess an’ fear!

Awakening hope

We have endured a few difficulties on our trip. We dropped our laptop, resulting in an unsightly kink at the corner. We have been bitten by sundry insects, sweltered on long car journeys, got soaking wet once, missed meals, and both suffered from an excess of visits to the toilet.

On the other hand, Martin, whose legs have never worked, has no money to replace the tyres on his hand-tricycle, or to repair the thatch on his hut as the rainy season begins. And at least two disabled children have died recently because families don’t know how to care for them, the nearest reasonable medical care is two hours on a motorbike and they can afford neither the journey nor the treatment, even supposing they get the right advice. The village health centre has no staff or drugs. I could tell a dozen stories like this.

The people we have been meeting the last couple of days are doubly forgotten. Their remote rural community is near the boundary of two districts and neither seems interested. Virtually everyone is struggling to get by, depleted by recent drought (climate change) on top of the neglect. They cultivate a little plot, cut wood to sell, try to get some work in an area with no real employment opportunities apart from casual labour. But for families living with disability it is much worse as they have more expenses and less income than others, less ability to do for themselves, and this community traditionally has not treated them as fully human. Hardly any have been to school, or remained there long enough to gain useful knowledge. Even in church they are not fully included and some parents seem to feel it is more important to turn up themselves in their best clothes, than to take their disabled child.

However we are really excited with the signs of change. Today in Soroti the dry season is coming to an end with a decent thunderstorm, and it feels like the days of drought could be numbered.

A couple of years ago, one of the Global Care managers (and heroes), Oumo David, raised his concerns about the needs of this community and wondered if we could support them to create a Disability Support Group, as we did seven years ago in a village called Atiira, at the other end of the district. Encouraged by the UK leaders and us, he convened meetings, helped draw up a constitution and get leaders elected and the group registered. We visited last January to witness part of this process and were struck by how needy the area is. Dirt poor doesn’t really do it justice.

In the last two days we have been repeatedly bowled over, reduced to tears, and astonished at what people were saying. Their eyes have been opened to the fact that disabled people including the most disabled children, are human beings with the same basic needs and rights as everyone. They mention God quite a lot when discussing this. They are prepared to put their money where their mouth is by contributing a little from their meagre resources each month, in order to help one another but mostly the children. This has enabled them to provide emergency relief for medical needs and education requirements and a business loan so someone can support his family. They volunteer in official and serving roles, staffing a playscheme that brings formerly isolated children together to play and share a meal. The changes in these kids in a few weeks can hardly be believed.

By stepping up and taking responsibility for what is going on in their community, the DSG members have moved others to become partners with them. The school is providing space for the playscheme, the local council provided some mats and we were taken to see new beehives hung in the mango trees that will provide honey to sell. There is a new poultry house as well, though we seem to have escaped without being asked to help vaccinate the chickens (we have mixed feelings about this).

These are really early days for this group and there will be a lot more loss and tragedy here before things improve substantially. There are too many entrenched issues to expect quick solutions. But David’s initiative has changed the outlook. Now we need a few friends to get alongside these brave people. When we left today we found they had put a jack fruit, some huge avocados and a big bag of peanuts in the car. Generosity of spirit like this deserves to be honoured.

Journey mercies and the dogs’ choir

Over the last two days we travelled from Lake Mburo Park in the west of Uganda, to Soroti in the north-east. Ugandans often wish you "journey mercies" when you set off and give thanks for them when you arrive. Since on the journey we passed three recent accident scenes, at least two of them fatal, you can see why. A minibus taxi with the front smashed in. As these only travel when they are full, the carnage must have been fearful. Three big trucks tumbled in the ditch by the road. If the drivers were wearing their seatbelts, I think they could have survived. And after waiting in a long queue to pass vehicles stopped in the road, we could see the feet of someone laid out in the back of the police pick-up. When you know something about emergency services and hospital treatments here, this kind of thing becomes even more intimidating. Accidents? Perhaps. But when you look at the old vehicles on the roads here, many puffing out black smoke, and the quality of the roads with few safety features apart from speed bumps, you realise this too is connected to poverty and poor governance. Charles our driver agreed that old vehicles that have reached the end of their useful life in “developed” countries are all that most people can afford. And that the system of annual vehicle checks (like UK MOT tests) has been abandoned as it was not working. So you have badly trained drivers in badly maintained old vehicles on a road system that is improving but still lacks most of the safety features we take for granted. No surprise that there is a high fatality rate. Police stopped us, making checks, but it is not always clear whether they are looking to enforce safety regulations or collect money from drivers.

So it was with a sense of relief that we arrived at the Global Care Centre in Soroti and walked into the familiar building. The offices were empty so we continued down the corridor to The Ark disability centre. “You are welcome Dr Tom!” Warm greetings from the staff giving the children their lunch. We greeted some familiar children and some unfamiliar new ones. Despite the new bunting the place seemed a little less bright somehow. I realised that someone was missing. A little girl that means a lot to me has gone …. to school! She doesn’t speak and most of her limbs hardly work but she is bright as a button and is reportedly doing really well, though we will need some additional funds to support her classroom assistant etc. Her smile is lighting up another room and we are all delighted. These successes are what we work for. To know more, or to help, go to  https://www.globalcare.org/project/the-ark/ 

Here in Soroti we look forward to the week’s programme, more details to follow.

And the dogs’ choir? At last night’s little hotel in Mukono, we were entertained by their singing mingling with the weird noises of Marabou Storks and local pop music. Unexpected talents are everywhere in this country!

Patti and the pigs

You drive for an hour out of town.
It’s a hot day but the scenery is spectacular with field and woods, valleys and steep hills, children waving and calling, scattered houses and villages, roadside markets, goats, cattle, businesses. Trees you can’t name, with flowers and fruit, rows of tall eucalyptus. And always the red dust from the dirt road.
The driver goes fast, sometimes it feels too fast, but he slows for the bends and bumps and there are no accidents, though there is a clanking in the rear suspension that will require a visit to the garage tonight.
Eventually the ancient Toyota minivan  stops, several hundred metres further down the dwindling track than you thought was wise, or even possible, and it is time to walk. Soon you are on a steep uphill path. You worry vaguely about snakes, more about slipping and falling. Passing plantain trees, cassava and coffee bushes you reach the top of the hill where there is a well built rectangular mud and wattle home with a corrugated iron roof. Chickens ducks and pigs scratch about as you slowly approach. Polite greetings are exchanged and you enter the house and sit on a wooden bench. You wonder if you should lean against the mud wall.
On the dirt floor sits a smiling plump girl finishing her lunch from a bowl – she is eating pieces of cassava with her hands. Her clothes are grimy. She is four years old and we have come to discuss her going to school. A lady breast feeds a smaller child, another sits on the bench beside me and doesn’t say much.
Why have we gone to all this trouble for one girl to get to school? Because Patricia (not her real name) was born with spina bifida and following surgery her left leg is paralysed and numb. She moves by shuffling on the dirt floor and cannot use the locally made crutches that her parents got for her. It is impressive that her siblings and neighbours walk over 3 km to their local primary school in such terrain, many of them barefoot. It is very hard to imagine how Patricia could make the trip. Motorcycle taxis seem to reach most places round here, but this route would challenge a professional trail rider. And how can she get treatment when the nearest suitable hospital is about 80 km away?
We, we did ask the question so we will have to try to come up with some answers. First we will see if we can get her off the floor and get the huge ulcer on her knee to heal. Then establish how she can move about and see about helping the school get ready to receive her. She will need transport walking aids and a an accessible latrine, something in which we are becoming expert.
It’s been a tiring day for me, but this is someone’s life. Leave no one behind!