Thursday, March 27, 2014
Monday, March 17, 2014
8 Insights into what it's like living in Uganda
Africa is a place that fascinates many of us in the West. It
still fascinates me and I live here. I don’t know if it’s the beat of those
African drums, the relaxed pace of life, the smiling faces that greet me
whenever I’m out and about or that I frequently find myself humoured by the fact
that some things can only be explained with a shrug and a smile! There’s just
something about this continent. Sometimes people ask me, ‘What it’s like living
in Uganda’? Depending on the timeframe given, my answer can range from ‘good’
to a 3 hour conversation. Here’s a quick read that’ll break it down in no
particular order:
1. Security. From the moment you step off the plane you’ll notice
it. It might be the fact that the UN and the US Air Force were the only other
planes at the tiny airport or the fact that everyday you’ll see 50-75 armed
guards cruising the streets carrying automatic weapons. Either way, it’s a
slight change from NZ. By the way, it’s also not unusual to see plain clothes young
men carrying rifles across their chest in a busy marketplace or on their
motorbikes. Every time I go into a public place like a shopping district,
restaurant, supermarket or hotel – I’ll be patted down, have to put my bag
through a check and have my car looked over inside, outside and underside for
weapons. One time a particularly vigilant guard asked me directly “Do you have
any bombs today madam?” as I was trying to park the car. Not today pal. Most foreigners
living here have a full time day and night guard and live in a compound with
barbed wire fencing and big metal padlocked gates. All windows here have bars across them as a
security measure. There are police out in force 24/7. Especially at the only 10 traffic lights in
Kampala (everywhere else is free reign). The police try their hardest to ensure
people obey the road rules. With their solid frames, white uniforms soaked in
sweat, cheeks filled with air from blowing whistles, hands waving vigorously and
batons for anyone that dare charges the lights, its quite the sight.
2. Weather. Uganda is on the equator which means that the
temperature is pretty constant year round – 27-31 degrees Celsius most days.
When it rains, it rains like you’d expect in the songs you hear about African rain.
These tropical rainstorms usually lasts a couple hours before clearing to the
hazy/smoggy blue sky that covers most of the country year round. You sweat
every day and your body is consistently caked in a fine layer of red dust that
never quite comes out.
3. Transport. One has four options. 1. Walking. 2. Matatu (van
that legally seats 10 but actually seats 15 humans, a few chickens and fish
strapped to the exterior bullbars). 3. BodaBoda’s - these motorcycles make the city feel alive.
With the loud engines, dodgy driving and colourful characters driving them –
this is not for the faint of heart. We’ve personally see an average of one
accident every few weeks. 4. Cars – we
are driving a massive (former UN) Land Cruiser Troop Carrier 4.2Litre Diesel
engine. It feels great to be driving a vehicle that can ram anything off the
road. This attitude is of course of
great concern to Tim with my driving record.
5. Little Challenges. Brushing your teeth with bottled water. Dealing with Mzingu (white people) prices for
everyday goods and services. Being surrounded by corruption in every facet of
life. Unrelenting traffic almost 24/7. Pot holes so deep and roads so bad I have
taken to wearing a sports bra when driving. Sleeping under a mosquito net every
single night. Getting in and out of our house with multiple keys and padlocks. Monster
sized biting ants, dragon flys, bees, snakes, lizards and birds (in the house
of course).
6. Being the minority. Uganda is a country of 32 million. 50%
of its population is under the age of 15. There are literally ‘kids for
Africa’. Life expectancy here is age 55. Whenever I go out, I am the minority. I hop on a bus and people
stare at me from all angles for the trip. This is uncomfortable. I go to a pool
and I’ll be the only white one in a pool full of black ones. When I go for a
walk children (and sometimes adults) point and yell out ‘Mizungu, Mizungu
(white person)’. I often wave and smile,
even take pictures with the kids. Somehow I don’t think I’d get away with doing
that to Africans in NZ!
7. Time. It’s just different here. In New Zealand I plan my
days and even my weekends into hourly chunks. Quite often I even plan
‘relaxation time’. Here, that would be ridiculous, unrealistic and probably
offensive. Life in Uganda moves at a slow, relaxed pace. Nothing happens
quickly. If the water or power goes out, no-one really knows why or when it
will be fixed. And they don’t seem to mind. If we do call someone, their phone
is off. Then, three days later and with no rhyme or reason, it’s back on. If
you’re late it’s not a big deal, it’s expected and appreciated.
8. Morals. God is important here. The majority of Ugandans
would say they have a Christian faith and attend church. Whether or not they’re
living a Christian lifestyle is another question. Respect for your elders is
paramount and the African saying of it takes a village to raise a child comes
to life here. It’s normal to be raised by a variety of ‘Mama’s’ ranging from
your Aunt to your Grandma. A poverty mentality can see some people living for
today, not for tomorrow. Instead of letting a tree grow big juicy fruit,
they’ll pick it at ¼ of the size and make the money for today. Instead of
letting a small tree grow, they’ll cut it down for firewood tonight.
And so for a planner/organiser like me, my plan is quite
simply that I have no plan here. I try to relax into the madness and let it
humour, challenge and amuse me as oppose to annoy me. And somehow I find
amongst all the chaos, a joy and contentment like no other and a fire in my
heart for Uganda and her people that I pray will never go out. Long may the adventure continue!
-Helen -
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Child Headed Households in South Africa
I’d heard the term used before. Heard it and shuddered.
Partly in disbelief, partly in horror. But the truth doesn’t change according
to our ability to stomach it. ’Child Headed Household’. And so I sat in a
swelteringly hot mud hut in rural Kwazu Natal, South Africa and met the story
behind the label and the faces behind the statistic. Through the tears of two
orphans whose parents had died of HIV, I listened to Bhekini (18) and Zama (23)
tell me their story.
"We’ve lived in this area since we were born. Our Mum and Dad were so loving towards us. They were both very straight forward people and provided for us four kids. They wanted us to do things right, be strong citizens and have a good future. Our favourite memory of our Dad is watching him do his fitness. Our favourite memory of Mum is that she used to kiss us a lot and we liked that. Life was good even though it was hard for them to take care of us sometimes. After Dad died, Mum created a garden with the help of (TEAR Fund’s partner) ACAT so that she could provide food to eat and make a little money with the excess vegetables. She died in 2007. After she passed there was a tremendous change. Life became very difficult. We went from having – to not having. There was (and still is) nobody to support us."
Bhekini continued, “After Mum died I was given a grant from
the government for school. Zama had to pull out of school as we could no longer
afford it and the grant I received had to stretch to include food, clothing,
shelter, books and writing materials for all four of us. Because of our
situation we cannot all go to school. One has to go and then the other one will
follow. Sometimes we go hungry just so we can buy a school book.
Zama added, “Today I take care of my siblings. I try to do piecemeal jobs like washing for others to earn a small amount. Sometimes there is not enough food so we have to go without. Daily I am fetching firewood and water from far away. As you can see we live in a very small house with little things. The day Mum died there was this great pain and shock knowing we were all alone.”
Unable to continue and with tears streaming down her face, I
stopped our interview. As we locked eyes I felt overwhelmed with a deep sense
of sadness and empathy. Here, before me was a young girl that could very well
have been me. Like I, she was also the eldest of four siblings. A mere eight
years younger, we’d faced a very different life. This ‘accident of latitude’
meant that she was born into a community of poverty where disease ravages
families and I was born into comparative luxury. I could physically see the weight of responsibility
for taking care of all her siblings a heavy burden for her slender frame to carry.
Zama continued, “Right before Mum died in 2007, she joined an
ACAT group. She was taught how to create a small but fruitful garden that
sustained our family. After she died, the garden fell into disrepair. ACAT then helped us as siblings apply for government
grants. The group our Mother was part of have continued to support us for five
years by giving us some clothes, a couple of meals a week and general advice on
taking care of ourselves. Recently the group have said they want to help us rebuild
our home and have purchased some bricks for us. The ACAT team leader has started
showing us how to revive the garden so that we can have enough food to eat. It
is my wish that if one day I have my own family, I don’t forget my siblings. I
will help them with whatever I can.”
Behklini said, “I have accepted that I don’t have parents
and that I will have to put it upon my shoulders to work hard in order to get
to where I want to be. Through the garden we will be able to eat produce and
save the money we would normally spend on buying vegetables. The ACAT garden is
our hope.”
About ten minutes after I left their humble home, the local
ACAT staff member I was with told me that the children hadn’t been able to have
breakfast that morning. I felt sick. Food insecurity was the last thing these
children should have to worry about. Thankfully,
TEAR Fund’s partner ACAT is helping some of the most vulnerable people in Kwazu
Natal to become food secure. People like Behkini and Zama in a child headed
household. By simply helping to establish secure access to on-going nutritional
needs, ACAT’s making room at the table for the vulnerable in our world. The
food is not the answer to all their problems, but it’s the first piece of a
poverty puzzle this family can start solving. But in order to do this for them and for
others ACAT needs our support.
For this young group of siblings, their mothers legacy lives
on in an ACAT garden that holds within it some serious potential for a gift
that will keep on giving. It’s their ticket to a food secure home and a hope
for the future. As they start the long process of cultivating the rocky land
that surrounds them and a mountain of memories deeply entrenched within every
piece of soil, I pray they’d lift up their weary heads and know their parents
would be ever so proud.
Good Magazine
Just found out that Good Magazine has published an 11 page photo essay and story on the work TEAR Fund New Zealand! is doing through ASHA in Delhi's slums! Very exciting to have my photography published in this incredible magazine to raise awareness for them! The story is referenced on the cover as 'The Innocents of Delhi's Slum's' You can read the low res PDF version here http://mmlink.co/ihan6gIkp4
Friday, March 7, 2014
Your Home and Garden Magazine
Absolutley have to pinch myself that we made the cover of my all time favourite magazine - Your Home and Garden New Zealand! Dream come true!! Meanwhile, at our home in Uganda we're dealing with water and power issues and living out of a suitcase for the third month in a row....the dichotomy of our lives!! You can read the story here http:// readnow.isentia.com/Temp/ 3411739/236561361.pdf
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