Areas in Uganda Impacted by LRA

At the height of the conflict, the UN estimates that the war displaced nearly 1.8 million people. Most of them lived in IDP (Internally Displaced Person) Camps for years at a time, struggling for life on every level. A milestone of sorts was reached last month as the UN officially ended its assistance to Northern Uganda. The fact is that people have largely returned to their former homes in Gulu and across the Acholi region (the UN says 98% have returned home, and nearly 250 IDP camps are now closed). But while many emergency aid & relief organizations pack their bags to leave this area, the question remains: What happens next for these people?

I journeyed to Gulu for a second time this January as a part of TCON’s new efforts to offer support in this region. While Gulu is still crowded with a variety of NGO’s and relief organizations, there is a surprising lack of programs directed towards the most vulnerable population.  This includes the elderly, women with AIDS, widows, and those who were brutally abducted by the LRA but managed to return from the bush. Many of the towns and villages in Acholi were left like ghost towns for over a decade. Now, with entire populations returning home to essentially nothing, everybody is struggling to establish a way of survival. The net result is poverty for most, and unthinkable poverty for those marginalized groups at the edges of a new civilian life.

Caroline- Gulu Widows Leader

This was never more clear as in a meeting we had outside the home of Caroline in Gulu town. Caroline is the leader of a widows group here that TCON is beginning to work with. To properly plan our work here, we wanted to profile some of the women Caroline reaches on a daily basis. So as the sun went down in Gulu, we talked with Lilly and Filda, two women whose stories shook me to the core. There were devastating details: being abducted by the LRA as children, having entire families murdered, being violated sexually and bearing the children of the rebel commanders. But the hardest part was seeing their present state, years after these events took place.  Lilly commented at one point that she believes it would be better to be back in the bush with the LRA- at least she would know what to expect. Such unfortunate thinking speaks to both the level of PTSD these women have and the unthinkable challenges associated with reintegrating into society as women who were also abducted. And most people living in Gulu want nothing to do with these women.

Meeting with Lilly and Filda

What happens next for women like this?

My colleague Shauna Gauthier (TCON Program Director) was also in Gulu, and her professional training in psychotherapy gave her a more grounded perspective on Lilly and Filda then I could ever have. (which I hope she’ll elaborate on more in a future blog post!) Shauna commented on the level of shame that these women have about their stories. The challenge when you’re sitting face to face is to not look away; not to give them the impression that you are somehow ashamed of their story. They’ve experienced so much stigma in their return to society that they expect that kind of reaction from everybody they encounter. Instead, you want to reinforce the message of their courage and humanity. I did my best.

Shauna’s recommended response points to TCON’s broader approach: We refuse to look away. In truth, as physical security is more and more the norm in Gulu, the battle for the victims of war in terms of reintegration and healing is just beginning. We are planning to be involved. Next month, TCON is initiating a first phase of support for around 30,000 Acholi widows through seed gifts for agricultural development. Establishing a base level of food security and relationship with these ladies opens the door for more focused programs moving forward. We are sincerely excited for some of the plans we have that will specifically target women like Lilly and Filda in the area of psycho-social support and trauma processing. We hope you’ll continue to follow our progress as we fight poverty and cultivate hope!

On our most recent trip, Craig and I were provided plenty of drive-time where we could investigate further how Joseph came to be who he is today – one of TCON’s greatest assets. I learned of his childhood and how he was mistreated and neglected. I discovered that at the age of fourteen, Joseph was undeniably impacted by the civil war that lasted over two decades in his country, as he was separated from his family and forced to take care of himself while he was still just a boy. I realized that Joseph’s work ethic was born long before he became TCON’s Country Director. But perhaps most poignantly, I was touched deeply by the evidence of this man’s dedication to women and children facing immense hardship within his own community.Much of my counseling perspective is formed by my belief that our own personal narratives shape who we become in this world. So I was compelled to analyze how Joseph was able to develop into a man highly attentive to the needs of others in a culture where the survival instinct of taking sole care of oneself (and perhaps his immediate family) is normative. I asked him pointedly, “Joseph, why do you help so many people?” and his response was basically that if other people had not helped him along the way then he wouldn’t be who he is today. It was a simple, and perhaps clichéd response. Yet, the simplicity and familiarity of the response does not diminish its value. Kindness and care have the power to breed even more kindness and care.

Joseph embodies TCON’s ideals as well as TCON’s mission. He has eyes for the future generation and it is because of this that he has taken in numerous orphans and supported them in a variety of ways. But Joseph also remains committed to assisting widowed women and single mothers because he knows that they perhaps face the greatest of challenges in a patriarchal society. By assisting these women, he is also assisting their children – the hope of Uganda.

In that way, Joseph is one example of who we strive to be as an organization. He embodies our hope, as individuals and as an organization. May our attentiveness to the needs of the women and children we work with, and may your generosity and willingness to share your resources with these people who live half a world away, continue to increase kindness in a world where there is great need.

Joseph Analyzes Orange Trees Outside Jinja

Spending Time with Immaculate in Soroti

One of the things I look forward to most whenever I visit Uganda is eating chapati. Before I returned to the US after a six-month stay in Uganda back in 2006, I attempted to learn firsthand how to create this flatbread from Immaculate, TCON’s infamous cook. Considering the only two ingredients in this flatbread are water and flour, one might presume that it is a relatively easy recipe to create. I had to sit through a handful of demonstrations by Immaculate, however, because without specific measurements I struggled to accomplish the right proportions of each of the ingredients. Now, over 5 years since I departed Uganda, I am still unable to master the art of chapati-making. In fact, I have given up trying and opt instead to get my chapati fix each time I visit Uganda.

I learned on this trip that Immaculate’s chapati is perhaps the best chapati in all of Soroti (the district where our Uganda office resides). So of course hers is likely to put my best effort to shame! In fact, Immaculate’s cooking in general is known to be exceptional. In a conversation with Immaculate on this recent trip I learned about how she began her own catering business on the side to fill her time and increase her income generation when she’s not working at the TCON house.

Immaculate’s story is one that highlights the limitations and shortcomings of relief aid and the potential that rests in development initiatives. A few years ago Immaculate developed a friendship with a woman who helped run our hospice facility. After learning the details of Immaculate’s life and her struggle to raise four boys on her own, the young American woman was compelled to offer Immaculate financial assistance so that her eldest son could attend a private school. Immaculate was deeply moved by the kind gesture and soon removed her son from the poorly performing government-subsidized school and placed him in the private school. The American woman paid for an entire year’s worth of school fees and promised to continue to provide assistance in the years to come. Unfortunately, the support fizzled out and Immaculate could not afford to keep her son in the school. When it came time to reenroll him in the government-subsidized school, the headmaster of the school retaliated by denying Immaculate’s son placement in the school. Eventually, after other’s advocated on Immaculate’s behalf, the headmaster conceded.

Ugandan Chapati Bread

Not more than a year later, another American woman temporarily moved to Uganda to complete an internship experience with TCON. This woman was equally as compelled to support Immaculate, only the assistance she provided propelled Immaculate to become more self-sufficient. This woman knew firsthand that Immaculate’s cooking was one of her greatest talents and suggested that Immaculate begin her own catering business on the side to earn extra income. The woman proceeded to purchase a few supplies in order to help Immaculate launch this business plan.

Finding The Balance: Aid vs. Development

Immaculate’s story illustrates how assistance that comes in the form of relief aid can perpetuate a state of dependency and can actually be detrimental to development and a progression toward self-reliance. On the other hand, assistance that comes in the form of empowering another to utilize her own abilities to improve her livelihood can lead to lasting change. It is the difference between offering a handout and offering a hand-up.

There are seasons and circumstances where relief aid is absolutely necessary and perhaps the first step toward development. But we simply stop there all too often in the non-profit realm. TCON has learned along the road that an aid organization can potentially be responsible for fostering dependency. That is not the type of organization we want to be. Instead, TCON is continuing to learn and develop strategies that ensure we are offering an effective hand-up to every woman we partner with.

More personally,

we each take stock of our own stories. Some of us had a year of celebration and victory while others dealt with enormous challenge and defeat. Its more likely that we all had a little of both. I personally went through an overwhelming vocational change after a decade of working in the same place. It was confusing, disorienting, and even a bit scary. This fall, my wife and I found out we’re having a fourth child next June. It was… hmmmm…. confusing, disorienting, and even a bit scary. Okay, we’re really excited, too! There are simply so many things to mark in 2011 and reflect on before midnight on Saturday. (an hour that my pregnant wife will likely never reach- maybe we’ll watch the ball drop in NYC live so she only has to make it to 10PM Colorado time?)

But I have experienced something quite different in these contexts. One look at a a Ugandan child who is growing up in the midst of a post-conflict zone encountering food insecurity and poor economic infrastructure reveals a surprise. The child herself has eyes for hope! And that is an impossible and beautiful thing worth exploring.

I was recently struck by an incredible little Ugandan proverb: One who sees something good must narrate it. It is a powerful appeal to hold a different kind of posture, even in the middle of a time where many Ugandans are rebuilding after decades of instability. Maybe its why I’m deeply connected with TCON’s work right now. I can state it simply- I have seen something good in Uganda, and I feel called to advocate for it and tell the story. I have eyes for hope, and I believe I can be a part of encouraging that hope in small ways.

I will be returning to Uganda next month, and I can’t wait to begin implementing our 2012 plans with our team there! We are going to reach into Gulu with agricultural initiatives for the first time with thousands of new widows. We will also be doing more focused development projects with some new partners in Teso. This month we have been encouraging you to “Give Hope” with TCON in tangible ways. I hope some of you will be motivated enough to take a few simple minutes right now to donate to our our work with widows and their children in 2012. Our online giving is straightforward and secure, and you can access it here. Two numbers to consider: $150 can bring initial seed and training for ten Gulu widows. $30 allows ten widows to attend a conference that brings encouragement, training, networking opportunities and more. We are grateful for so many people that make TCON an effective NGO in Uganda! To friends and partners of TCON- we wish you a wonderful New Year, and we look forward to continuing the story in 2012!

As an adult, I have experienced this season in a very different way. The shopping and preparing that often takes place in the midst of the day-to-day management of life can serve as a sufficient buzz-kill. Don’t get me wrong, I love the holidays once they actually arrive, but managing the chaos leading up to them is what I could do without. So instead of anticipation or excitement, there is busyness and hurriedness. The truth is, it’s been a long time since I truly longed for something or felt the agony of hoping and waiting.

I read a news story this week captioned, “A True Holiday Miracle.” It was about a young girl who was swept away in the 2004 Indonesia tsunami and thought to be dead. Miraculously the girl returned to her parents this week after being released by a woman who had discovered her shortly after the Tsunami and forced her to work as a street beggar. I imagine the hope of returning to her family was at times what caused her heart to ache the most and was also what simultaneously sustained her desire to live in the midst of suffering. That you girl held onto hope for seven years. Could there be anything more powerful than experiencing the fulfillment of one’s ultimate hope?

Recently I have also wondered if there could be anything so tragic as the experience of hope disappointed. A friend and fellow graduate of my alma matter was anticipating the arrival of his firstborn son in late November. The baby boy, already named Jackson Brave, was a week late when the couple discovered at their check-up that he no longer had a heartbeat. To experience the building anticipation of a long pregnancy, to struggle through the labor and delivery, for a child whose laughter you will never know, whose life ended before it truly began – that is devastation some will know, but few can bear.

I am trying to remember what it feels like to long for something desperately in these final hours of Advent. And in so doing, I can’t help but think of the women and children of the Acholi region in Uganda. They have endured over two decades of civil war, political unrest and life in internal displacement camps. But in the recent years, all of that has begun to dissipate. The rebel army has retreated, there is relative stability and they have been sent back to their family land. For many of the Acholi people, their hope has been realized. But for the widowed women, whose husbands died of violence, AIDS or other causes, their hearts are still aching for help. So perhaps I have personally forgotten what it is to truly long for new life, but through these women I am able to witness the ache of longing and the all-surpassing joy when one’s hope is actualized.

Floating around Facebook (and Pinterest) today was an image of two photos strategically aligned side-by-side. One of them was a gut-wrenching portrayal of a few starving children from a developing country. The other was a photographic depiction of parents hauling karts full of electronics and just-released toys to the checkout counter. The caption – “Define Necessity” – may have been enough to sufficiently shame just about anyone who celebrates this holiday by partaking in the gift-giving rituals and family traditions. Instead of merely highlighting the needs of the presumed “have-nots” and shaming the “haves” for excessiveness, I’m more interested in collectively embracing the spirit of giving.

It’s been five years since my family and I returned to Colorado after spending nearly six months living in Uganda. Just before we departed, my husband and I traveled with our three daughters from Kampala (the capital of Uganda) to Soroti (the rural village where most of TCON’s efforts were centralized at the time). I wanted my girls to experience firsthand the dissonance between our livelihood and the livelihood of the children in this region of the world. We went to the market (an experience in itself) and purchased some items to give to an orphan-led household of eight children. The eldest daughter, who at the time also had an infant daughter of her own, became responsible for the care of her seven younger siblings after her widowed and AIDS infected mother passed away.

There were many aspects of that experience that were surreal. Sitting in the middle of the Ugandan “bush” with my three extremely light-skinned and light-haired daughters and watching them distribute clothing, school supplies and a few sweet treats to these children whose faces lit up as they immediately began to try on their new outfits was a time-stopping moment. Watching my youngest daughter (who was only two at the time) reach for the eldest daughter’s infant and refer to her as “my baby” was enough to melt anyone’s heart. But perhaps the most memorable aspect of this experience was the conversation I had with my oldest daughter, Faith, upon our departure from the one-room mud hut that housed these orphaned children. I sensed that she was still trying to process all that she had just encountered as she looked to me and asked, “Mommy, would it be alright if we give those kids all of the toys that we have back at our cottage in Kampala?”

Based on that concluding question you may be inclined to believe that I have an angel child. Let me be clear, though I adore Faith, she has been no angel. She has moments of selfishness and stubbornness just like the rest of humanity, but in that moment she was basking in the transformative experience of giving. You see, that is the paradox of giving – when you give to others there lies the potential for your own growth. What we were able to give those children on that particular day was more than material and consumable goods. Our material gifts were quite frankly symbols of hope and gifts of joy. I wonder if there is a greater change agent than to witness hope restored, or to see joy written on the faces of children who have suffered greatly.

Hope and joy are infectious. They have the power to call forth each of us beyond our own existence, and into the lives of those we have the ability to help.

“The fighting has left us with a lot of scars- but that is not where our story ends.” -Patongo Primary School Teacher

The 2006 documentary War Dance follows the journey of a group of primary school musicians from the town of Patongo in Northern Uganda, all the way to the nation’s capital of Kampala.  The children are traveling to compete in Uganda’s National Music & Dance Festival. But the trip is about more than a competition.  These Acholi kids represent a region devastated by the rebel group the LRA, and they are only recently coming to terms with the trauma they have experienced while living in IDP camps.

Patongo Students Prepare for Competition

To read about the horrors experienced in this part of Uganda when the LRA was at large here is challenging.  The movie conveys statistics many of us may have heard- 30,000 children abducted, and several hundred thousand orphaned in the Acholi region.  But statistics can often keep us at a distance, while personal story draws us in.  War Dance focuses on the stories of a few Patongo kids who were brutally caught up in the regional violence.  Some were abducted, others orphaned, and one was forced to kill innocent adults in the town.  One might assume that such awful recollections by a group of kids would yield a dark and depressing documentary.  Quite the opposite, War Dance is a story of building hope out of devastation.  Through the Patongo Primary School, the kids are afforded the opportunity to focus on music and dance routines that they will perform in Kampala.  Their talent is staggering, and their passion to succeed despite the post-traumatic stress they each are under is even more unbelievable.

TCON’s founder, Dave McPherson, has been encouraging me to see this movie for awhile.  I studied music education in college before I got involved in international nonprofit work, so this movie had a real synergy of two things that are deeply important to me- music and hurting people.  To see music play the role of healer in a context I’m now working to help was deeply inspiring.  For me, War Dance brought insight to a few questions that we are always asking ourselves at TCON: What will peace look like?  How will hope arise here?  What does it look like to truly battle poverty in this region of the world?  

Children are always the most victimized in conflict zones, and yet they are also the same people who can possess a surprising capacity to heal and see a way forward when the conflict stops.  This was evident in my time with kids in Uganda this August. In War Dance, as the Patongo Primary students prepare to head to Kampala for the competition, one student comments, “I’m excited to see what peace looks like!”  He is of course thinking of the capital city being a place far from the war zone; a place that must have peace at every corner. But the statement takes on different meaning after watching the kids perform.  The truth is that the Patongo Primary students saw peace long before they reached Kampala.  Peace is not tied to a location on the map, but a position of the heart.  How encouraging it is to believe that it can be attainable for some of Uganda’s next generation who have suffered so much.

Joseph Kony of the LRA

Uganda grabbed international headlines over the weekend following the announcement on Friday by President Obama to send 100 troops into Africa in order to aid in the hunt for Joseph Kony and leaders of the infamous LRA.  While it isn’t the first time the US has been involved in this effort (US officials “advised” during Operation Lightning Thunder and have directed millions of dollars in connection to the 2009 LRA Disarmament and Northern Uganda Recovery Act ), it is the most direct action to date.  The decision caught most people by surprise and has been receiving mixed reaction across the board.  The reality is that the majority of Americans are largely unfamiliar with Joseph Kony, the Lord’s Resistance Army, and even Uganda itself.  This is not to discount groups like Invisible Children and Enough Project who have fought tirelessly over the last decade to put the issue of the LRA front and center domestically.  They should be commended for their efforts in advocacy at times like this.  But in the US, there remains a tendency to generalize when speaking about anything in “Africa”.  The LRA and Joseph Kony can quickly become just one more of “those problems” in “Africa”.  In this case, some context is important when asking how to fight a problem like a rogue rebel group that has committed unspeakable atrocities and remained elusive for more than two decades.

An LRA Child Soldier

It doesn’t take long as you travel north in Uganda (as I did this August), to get in touch with the LRA’s impact on the people, and an entire generation who were caught in this conflict.  Sverker Finnstrom’s book title smartly borrows a local Acholi (the northern Ugnadan dialect) phrase that was commonly used to describe what the area became during the LRA’s most active years: “Piny Marac” or “Bad Surroundings”.  I spoke with Acholi widows in Gulu, and heard of the horrors of having children abducted by the LRA in night raids as well as life in IDP (Internally Displaced People) Camps that lasted over twenty years for some.  The IDP camps were designed to protect citizens during LRA raids, but in reality, they failed to provide security and instead devastated all local economy and infrastructure from health to education.

Further south in Soroti, I spoke with a couple who took in two teenage boys who were able to escape the LRA after being abducted and forced to commit atrocities.  It took nearly two years away from the LRA for the the young men to begin to normalize on any level, and that was only with extensive direct care from this family that chose to take them in.  Many others are not so fortunate.  And while the LRA has been pushed out of Uganda for several years now (though its tactics of terror have continued in the D.R.C.), many Ugandans remain haunted by the thought that Kony is still at large.

And so the question arises, how do we fight?  Its easy to agree that the LRA’s demise would be welcomed by the entire global community (except for maybe Rush Limbaugh, who dropped some irresponsible remarks last Friday).  But that doesn’t mean there is universal support for this latest move by the US.  Our organization, The Children of the Nile (TCON), was founded in part as a direct response to bring aid and relief to those who were impacted by the LRA.  We chose to invest in women and widows because their already challenging circumstances were exacerbated by the conflict, and we knew we could make a difference by empowering them directly.  TCON’s statement of action is clear: We are fighting poverty and cultivating hope.  But with regard to our “fighting”, an important distinction should be made.  While we join in hoping for the final end to the LRA, we are waging war on a different front.  Our fight is alongside those who are recovering and rebuilding after the battles are over.  We are walking with the traumatized and terrorized, seeking strategies that will help them begin to live self-sustainably, and ultimately invoke another Acholi phrase: “Piny Maber!”  It translates simply: “Good Surroundings!”

TCON Widows Conference in Gulu- August '11

Wating for Dinner at Teso Widows Conference

Outside of the TCON conference center in Soroti, the cooks were preparing a meal for the ladies in the yard.  This was something I was interested in seeing during my first visit to Uganda.  Its one thing to imagine hundreds of women gathering together for several days at a widows conference, but the practical details like meal planning are harder to envision!  It’s safe to say that the size of the main pot cooking the beans was roughly equivalent to the size of my first car in high school.

As the conference activities concluded for the day, the widows began to form a line in front of the cooking station in order to receive their dinner.  They are not impatient while waiting to get food.  To be gathered together with their  ”sisters” for any period of time is a joy for these Teso widows.  And its easy to summarize what I see:  TCON is supporting women here on a variety of fronts, and we can see visible progress as an organization committed to women’s development initiatives.  But ultimately, this is not about women.

That statement may surprise you (or confuse you!), but let me explain.  I’ve previously noted the wise perspective revealed in Half the Sky, which shares about some of the major challenges facing women worldwide.  Authors Nicholas Kristoff and Sheryl Wudunn caution advocates against making these causes simply “women’s issues”, because it narrows the focus too much.  Instead, they say,“These are all humanitarian concerns, transcending any one race, gender, or creed.”   Let me put that in context with what TCON does in Uganda.  Our philosophy has been to attack poverty on the ground by empowering women.  More specifically, we have targeted widows, because they are the most stigmatized and overlooked group, and they are the caregivers for a majority of Uganda’s next generation.  But what if we decided to draw a parallel with this target group?  What if we limited the framework of the support network by saying, “Those who should support this issue must only be other women.  More specifically, only widowed women should be advocates for these ladies in Uganda.”  We know that such a strategy would not benefit our fight or the women!

Fighting for women’s issues in a place like rural Uganda requires a focused approach with the broadest kind of support possible.  I noticed last week in reviewing some of our networks on social media, that the majority of our followers are women.  This was no surprise, but it made me wonder:  Do other men (like me) view fighting for poverty through empowering women as a “female-onle cause”?  They shouldn’t.  In fact, quite the opposite!  TCON has made a commitment to fight poverty and cultivate hope in Uganda.  We believe that when we invest in Teso Widows, we invest in all of Teso.  When Ugandan women are empowered, Uganda itself is empowered!  Equally, all types of people should join in this fight with us.  This is not about just women.  This is about all of us striving to write a better story in the world we live in.

The Line Forms for Dinner

Objectification is not always sexualized, but no matter the form, it always leads to a power differential. According to Anne Elotu, a Ugandan psychologist, as soon as a girl is born into a family she is immediately objectified. She is not even seen as being part of the clan as she will one day leave and take another clan name. Her purpose in the family system during her early formative years is to care for the sick or smaller children, assist with work on the farm or any other task at hand. As she develops into adolescence she becomes a marketable commodity as her family is likely to acquire a significant dowry as her bride price. Essentially, a girl grows up believing that the purpose of her existence is to passively submit to the requirements that others have placed upon her to fulfill her duty as a daughter.

It’s no wonder that domestic violence, adultery, polygamy and sexual abuse are highly prevalent in this oppressive system. And that is exactly what is perpetuating this inequality – a system. Men and women, boys and girls, make up this system. Which is why I believe that it will require the transformation and determination of both genders to deconstruct this system of belief and behavior.

When I was on my way to Entebbe airport to return to the States after my most recent trip to Uganda, I saw something that at once both broke my heart and ignited my passion for this work. Two young girls, perhaps 9 and 11 (the ages of my two oldest daughters), were playing together. One of them was riding a bicycle and the other was chasing her and trying to hop onto the back of the bike. I could tell by the expressions on their faces that they were each filled with delight and present only to this moment of play. The beauty was that despite a culturally oppressive and objectifying influence, these two girls still possessed the ability to live as subjects embracing their own desire for pleasure. The tragedy was that I couldn’t help but wonder when this grasping of their right as a human being would be squelched.

To shift a cultural perspective is undeniably a massive challenge. But it is the challenge at hand. In 2012, our hope as an organization is to provide opportunities for women and girls, boys and men, to hear a different message about what it means to be female in Uganda.