After the Journey:Children of Uganda Part I

        Well, I knew it would not be long before I get a not so pleasant feedback on the blog, but when it was delivered I was not ready. This past Sunday, right after church, someone walked up to me and among other things, we had a chat about the walk and the blog. He said, “I read some of your blog…but I mean, did you write it or did your secretary?” I smiled and then laughed nervously not knowing how to respond. After my sheepish confession that I was indeed the author of the blog, the critic continued, “…I thought that someone was just going off on a tangent…” The interesting thing was that the criticism came right after a message from Matt—one of the Team Leaders at ECV. Matt had said that we should be a community that loves with our minds and thinks with our hearts. Timely; right? How else to put to test what I considered to be the take-home message for me as a member of the ECV? Anyhow, if you are still following me on this journey and reading this thing, I thank you most deeply, now that I know, most of this is indeed going off on a tangent. Here we go, hopefully it won’t be too much of a departure from the point or maybe it will, thank you for reading nonetheless…

In 1996, my friend Isabel introduced me to Daughters of Charity (DOC) and Children of Uganda (COU-formerly Uganda Children’s Charity Foundation—UCCF). At the time, DOC had three main homes for abandoned and orphaned children: one in Kiwanga located on Jinja Road on the outskirts of Kampala; one in Nsambya near Nsambya Hospital, another suburb of Kampala; and one in Rakai (former capital of HIV AIDS in Uganda) at a place called Sabina, west of the capital, 25 kilometers from the Tanzanian boarder...

Funny, that I would be introduced to these orphans, in my own country, by someone from the UK! It was at Kiwanga that I first met and fell in love with the children. Isabel wanted me to help with the medical screening of a group of disabled children residing there. I met Theresa a.k.a Kawala, a vivacious and flamboyant young lady of sixteen with a developmental age of six or seven and a tragic story…but you would not know it, for Kawala is one of the happiest people I have had the pleasure of knowing. Her enthusiasm is infectious, her love for others fearless and fierce, her memory of those that have crossed her path impeccable, and her joy and selflessness exceptional. I also met Charles, a child confined to one place due to his disability, and with a smile that would stay with you long after you had left Kiwanga. Later, I met Joseph, and Rose, and Rebecca, and Stella, and Cyrus, and Gorretti, and Gertrude, and Sarah, and Innocent, and Kareem, and Sharif, and Stephen, and…each year, a new face representing hundreds; each year, the list grew…

I went back to Kiwanga many weekends with and without Isabel. I was drawn to more than the plight of these children. As dreadful as most of their stories were and still are, there was something more to their ostensibly limited existence. I was drawn to their laughter, to their song, music and dance; to their boldness in loving the many strangers who turned up at their home, and to their hope and lighthearted attitude towards life amidst and against all odds…

Egoistically, I kept going back even when I knew that I drew much more from the encounters than they did: they had less of the worldly possessions to give and yet they gave a lot more than I did. I gave far much less…I had a day every week. Other times I would manage a day every other week…it was always a little bit of time out of my otherwise ‘busy’ schedule. The children gave me more than time, more than presence…they tagged at my heart, challenged it, and dared it to adopt a similar internal and external posture towards life, to learn a little more of what it means to have grace and courage in the context of life in Africa, to dance even when there is no music, to laugh helplessly even when it hurts, to allow myself to heal in all the ways I needed to heal, and to appreciate the meaning of taking one day at a time…

Many years have passed since Isabel first introduced me to these children and over the years, I have discovered many ways in which their stories intertwine with mine and that of many other Ugandans, as well as hundreds abroad. The passing of time has not changed the things I have mentioned above. I return to Kiwanga, and Rakai with less of a fractured internal person, with a little more confidence in my capacity to give rather than be a recipient of the challenge.  Every year I return with severe expectations (self-inflicted) and with a little more courage to ask myself and others--will we give what it takes to make a difference or love these children as much? Will we hug with no reserve? I ask myself these questions and more every time I walk back into the old and new relationships, into the ever embracing open arms of Kawala and Charles, and Joseph and…

I wish I could take everyone I know to Kiwanga and Sabina, you too would be plugged in for life, may be you too would become a returning constant!  A few days after the walk, we hit the road to visit Sabina home in Rakai.  I know the road by heart and as soon as we negotiate the crazy parts of Kampala and its deathly traffic, I settle into three hours of anticipation and excitement.  I am always assured of one thing...visiting the children is not a matter of 'maybe' I will be inspired, I know I will.  Please read part two of this story to share in our experience with the children after the walk.  To learn more about their stories and how you can be a part of their journey, help or sponsor a child please visit http://www.childrenofuganda.org/

On the left is charles, one of the children I met in 1996.

Thank you for being in the Journey with me...more to come