Tuesday 12 November 2019

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!