Uganda Live Report Distribution Reports by:
Grant Clark Mary-Jo Lang Leslie Banner Sally Jo Martin Kristein O'Neil Nancy Holt

Desperate Choices
Grant Clark — Mississauga, Ontario

By the time you finish reading this brief article, an African child under the age of five will have died from malaria.

This compelling and irrefutable statistic began urgent discussions among the Executive Committee for Sleeping Children Around the World [Sleeping Children] and Overseas Volunteer Organizations [OVO] like the Inner Wheel of Kampala. The problem: how to provide a properly treated mosquito net for bedkits that would be practical for villagers in Africa?

	Back, Left to Right: Sally Jo Martin, Nancy Holt, Mary-Jo Lang, Kristein O'Neil. Front: (Team Leaders) Grant Clark, Leslie Banner.

Questions were raised by our Inner Wheel partners: How can you anchor a mosquito net above the sleeping area in a home which is simply a circular hut with a thatched roof? The net can easily ignite by a flame or ember and with the frequent winds in Uganda this possibility is increased. How can it be stored in such a confined space during the day to make space available for other necessary activities? But the most urgent issue was that families in remote regions were unfamiliar with a mosquito net and needed to learn about its life-saving qualities and proper use. It must be suspended above the sleeping area. It must extend around the mattress. It must not be sold. A treated net would protect their child for over two years from deadly mosquito bites and the insecticide would also protect the area beyond the direct space covered by the net.

The Inner Wheel members had to make choices. What items would be removed from the bedkit in order to include the net? The precious plastic water basin — a household staple and a place for a young child to experience a late afternoon bath — was omitted. The t-shirt and sandals — so desperately needed — were lost. The ointment for ringworm — protection against a disease that is rampant in the villages — could no longer be part of the bedkit. These were desperate choices. But as a result, a mosquito net could be placed in each bedkit.

At each of the distributions, a Canadian voice, assisted by a translator, spoke clearly about the proper use of the mosquito net. The villagers clapped and cheered. A village administrator reinforced the message in passionate and demanding tones. The caregivers nodded their heads, smiled, and again burst into applause. They understood. They were also told in a most assertive Canadian voice that we must find these nets in their homes if we returned next year — no exceptions. They understood this message.

As I left each distribution site I felt that the urgency of the Sleeping Children Executive Committee had been addressed. I felt that a teachable moment had been captured. I also felt that — had Murray Dryden been able to amend his memorable quotation — it would now be: "It is every child's right to a peaceful — and safe — night's sleep."

For 6,000 children in Uganda this has now become a reality.

From the Front of the Bus
Mary-Jo Lang — Sarnia, Ontario

I rode the bus every day in the assistant copilot's seat — second from the front. The views were incredible.

People walk, ride bikes, ride on the backs of bikes, and in the city, drive cars. But the countryside is mostly walkers. A fraternity of walkers. On the road from dawn to well after sundown, people are walking — for water, for supplies. This past Thursday, we were in Kanungu, a beautifully mountainous region of sun and breezes, coolness, narrow rutted roads, and steep cliffs. Even in the pitch black of night, the road was busy with walkers and bicycles. Our headlights would briefly pick up the shape of a person and as quick as a wink that person would disappear onto the side of the road or frequently right into the bush itself.

From the front of the bus I saw patience. Autos and buses take precedence over people walking and often the walker or bicyclist would be forced even further to the side of the dusty road than they had been. No recriminating looks, ever.

Barefoot was the footwear of choice. Flip flops second. Shoes a very distant third. I saw barefoot children running like deer on the dusty, stony roads. Their feet are tough, and their speed one of life's pleasures to behold.

There were six Canadian wazungu (white faces) and ten Ugandan ladies in the bus. We were definitely an oddity, we wasungu. And once our eyes met the smiles were wide. Instant communication of some goofy kind took place. No words. Just eyes, smiles, and maybe a thumb-greeting that added to the exchange.

Red dust was everywhere and potholes as big as craters. And, oddly, speed bumps so big the bus had to cross gingerly, at an angle. Should a vehicle pass us, we were blinded by the ensuing dust storm.

Despite the incredible red dust, the people walking on the roads were always beautifully-coifed and dressed in lovely African robes and dresses and shawls. And the men's shirts and pants were never wrinkled but always pristine white and seemingly — though I know this impossible — ironed.

And a sight not ever to be forgotten for the joy of it: bedkit recipients going down the road, bag in hand and bed on head, spotting our bus, and grinning so hard and so happily that we could hardly bear it. Real joy. Real happiness. Everyone waving and cheering, we and they. Who were the happiest? We were all givers and all receivers. This Uganda has stolen my heart.

A Night in Rukungiri
Leslie Banner — Mississauga, Ontario

We arrived in Rukungiri late in the afternoon at the "ancestral home" of one of the Inner Wheel members. Our hostess was responsible for overseeing the entire distribution. We were dirty and tired from a morning distribution and a six-hour drive over rutted, narrow, dusty roads.

Bedrooms, bathroom, and shower opened directly onto a courtyard in the centre of the house. As was the norm in Uganda this year, the electric power was out for most of the afternoon and evening. Water was heated over an open fire so the travellers could enjoy a warm shower of sorts. The courtyard began to fill with neighbours, children, extended family members, and workers preparing dinner. What an interesting experience: to walk through a courtyard of strangers into a shower and emerge with dignity intact!

Uganda is on the equator and darkness falls quickly around seven in the evening. The traditional dinner prepared in the field behind the home was the same that we experienced throughout our travels: matoke cooked in banana leaves, rice with vegetables, "Irish" potatoes cooked with tomatoes and onions, greens, sweet potatoes, cooked cabbage, chicken, beef, and goat, all cooked over an open fire and clay fire pots filled with locally made charcoal. Dessert, as always, was an array of fruit: pineapple, the best we have ever tasted, papaya, mango, passion fruit, jack fruit, and bananas of every variety and size.

With a Sleeping Children team of six, the Inner Wheel members travelling with us numbering about eight, and the courtyard filled with neighbours, the food fed at least fifty. Leftovers — and there were ample — fed those who had worked many hours preparing the meal.

During dinner, a group of young people danced and sang for us in the traditional manner with instruments from the past and present. The grace of the young women and the passion of the young men for their craft were evident. Women of the Inner Wheel joined in the traditional dances and the Canadian SCAW team needed little invitation to participate — to the glee of the assembled audience.

Evenings in Uganda are incredibly bright with stars since there is little light pollution outside of large cities. That evening in Rukungiri we watched a sky filled with stars not seen in our part of the world. Murray Dryden often commented that the night sky in Uganda was particularly beautiful.

Looking around the courtyard at the gathered crowd it was easy to understand the African proverb that it takes a village to raise a child. Here the children were surrounded by adults who insured that they received a meal, a chance to be part of a wonderful "family" gathering, and a chance to listen to their traditions being honoured. All children are welcome and cared for by the extended "family" whether related or not. We have witnessed this time and again during our distributions in Uganda. With so many orphaned children in this country, everyone is expected to provide whatever possible for children in need. Experiencing life in a village home provided us with a deeper understanding of life in Uganda.

The next morning we completed the distribution in Rukungiri — giving each of 500 girls and boys a bedkit and watching their faces as they received this unbelievable gift. The joy on their caregiver's faces moved all of us since we understood the realities of life in Uganda.

One grandmother told to us that she had never slept on a mattress in her life and was raising six orphaned grandchildren. She was so deeply thankful that two or three of her grandchildren could now sleep on a mattress protected by a mosquito net, covered against the cold nights that she only hoped one day that her other grandchildren might be as fortunate. She wanted nothing for herself — only for those she cared for.

As Antoine de Saint Exupery states in one of my favourite books, The Little Prince, "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." This grandmother, joyful at the gift in the midst of her sorrow, knew this essential truth. Her face will remain in my memory from our distribution in Rukungiri.

Education in Uganda
Sally Jo Martin — Etobicoke, Ontario

Uganda has free universal education from grades one to seven, but many factors limit access:

• Availability in remote rural areas varies widely.
• School supplies are expensive for those with little income.
• Classes average 50 students per teacher.
• Most instruction is in English.
• Rote learning is the norm.
• A uniform is required.

Other limiting factors:

• In one school, each child was required to bring a ream of paper, a dozen pencils, a broom, two rolls of toilet paper, and Dettol. With most families having five or more children, the financial burden is so great that many are not well educated.
• Secondary school is not free so even fewer finish that level. Those able to continue to college or university face an unemployment rate of almost 50% for men and an unknown count for women who face job discrimination.
• Political instability, enormous debt to the World Bank, and drought in many areas all contribute to a country experiencing enormous challenges.

One of our Inner Wheel hosts is headmistress at the Railway Primary School in Kampala. Most of the 1,400 students live in the surrounding slums but attendance is high. 299 are orphans being raised by older siblings, grandparents, or extended family. A grade one class we saw had 104 students with only two teachers in the room. Only five pupils were absent that day.

The highlight of the day was a performance of traditional song and dance by some grade-six and -seven boys and girls. Their energy and enthusiasm had us clapping and tapping our feet along with them.

Then about twenty students from the AIDS Awareness Club gave a recitation. In perfect unison and with expressions of love and lament, they dramatized a poem they had written entitled "Mother Africa." They spoke of HIV/AIDS and malaria, imploring all who listened to live responsibly and take care of their communities and their own health. Listening to them brought tears to us all, acknowledging that many of these youngsters already live in families where disease has killed so many.

On a brighter note, it was encouraging to walk around the school grounds and read some of the signs painted by these students:

• Forward ever, backwards never
• When you educate a girl, you educate a nation
• Take care. Life has no spare parts.
• Beware unwanted touch.

One program for the girls teaches vocational skills that will be useful for them once they leave school. Basket weaving, batik, jewelry making, and sewing also provide the school with some funds to buy basic supplies such as chalk and note books. No government money has been received since December so this source of income is needed.

One of Murray Dryden's goals when he and Margaret established Sleeping Children was to provide the comfort of a good night's sleep so a child could face the next day well-rested and able to learn. The distribution of 6,000 bedkits to school aged children in Uganda this year is surely a positive step, one I feel blessed to have been a part of. Thanks to all the donors who made it possible.

A Boy Named Samson
Kristein O'Neil — Stavely, Alberta

Samson is a boy from Uganda with a population of twenty-eight million — not including those unaccounted for. I will return to my home in Stavely, Alberta, Canada with a population of 421 — guaranteed all accounted for.

Two completely different worlds. Different foods, houses, clothing, traditions, and ways of life. What is the same is the way people are so capable of unconditionally accepting and loving each other in spite of the differences.

On my journey with Sleeping Children — or "SCOW" as the Ugandans pronounce it — I was given the opportunity to follow two children from start to finish during a distribution. I photographed the process for the Sleeping Children website. Some of the photos are shown here. You can see the rest of the photos on the website.

One child was Diana, a young seven-years-old, who was shy, and did not know English. Then I met Samson, a twelve-year-old boy who stole a piece of my heart. His full name is Samson Ssewaynnyana Kkonyogo and he lives in the Kitawuluzi Zone, Mutundwe Parish. Samson turns thirteen in July and has a little brother, Simon, who is eleven. They live with their grandparents in a little mud hut with no hydro or running water.

Samson is the primary caregiver due to the age of his grandparents. Because he's the oldest, he cooks, cleans, gets water, and cares for his brother. In 2003 he lost his parents to AIDS. So this has been a way of life for Samson since he was a young boy. In my time with Samson, he was a typical twelve-year-old child. He giggled, was shy, and talked about twelve-year-old stuff.

But after he left the distribution, this boy will have to worry about eating, sleeping, illness, staying warm, and the care of his family. He will also worry about school. If the family does not have the $60 for his school fees, Samson does not go to school. Samson wants to continue playing soccer at school.

But his dream is to become a doctor and help find a cure for AIDS. Now, thanks to all of you Sleeping Children donors, Samson will dream on a comfortable mattress covered by a warm blanket.

Heart Breaking — Heart Warming
Nancy Holt — Oakville, Ontario

I thought the hardest thing I'd ever do would be to go to Africa: a turbulent continent wrought with disease, poverty, and unrest. Before I left Canada, I imagined such sadness and tragedy that I would weep every day.

Throughout the trip, from sunrise to sundown, the daily struggles were clearly evident. Within an hour of arriving in Kampala I saw hundreds of impoverished people. They seemed to be walking to one of a thousand different destinations. Ugandan people are constantly in motion: shopkeepers tending to their goods, young adults working in the fields, young mothers washing clothes, and children caring for even younger children. Poverty was everywhere. At that moment, I thought that this experience might be even more difficult than I had imagined.

Over sixteen days, the Sleeping Children team gave bedkits to 6,000 children but we probably saw tens of thousands more in our travels around the country: children struck by malaria, some very ill with AIDS, most others suffering from other preventable or treatable diseases and conditions like malnutrition, ringworm, polio, or cleft palate. All the children we saw were extremely poor.

But, amazingly, regardless of their desperate circumstances, there was an astonishing joy and an incredible spirit surrounding each of them. Their spirit touched each of us. Their joy captured us: as they sang their wonderful welcome; as we observed their laughter when a SCAW team member mispronounced the Ugandan word for "smile" or tried perform a traditional dance; and most certainly in their elation when receiving their bedkit gift.

So, was it difficult? Quite the opposite. I found I was so infected by the children's joyful spirit that I laughed, clapped, and danced every day. On very few occasions did I cry. The children of Uganda touched my heart in so many ways.

On a daily basis my heart was broken and warmed by these amazing kids. No more so than on my last day in Uganda when I had an opportunity to help at a community school which services a very poor area of Kampala.

The children are used to very formal style schooling where they approach the blackboard to answer questions, kneel before the teacher to ask to go to the bathroom, and repeat things like "Thank you, Teacher," in unison. My lesson to these thirteen-year-olds was a simple one which included some basic facts about Canada and a little information about careers in Engineering. The kids were like sponges and soaked up every word I spoke — probably in part due to my less conventional approach which may have included a few high fives. So many were gifted students and all were so captivated by this mysterious country called Canada which clearly seemed so far away, not to mention their shock that a woman could be an engineer!

Regardless of my short time with them I saw so much promise in this tiny crowded classroom. But I was also acutely aware that two or three of the children would probably die of malaria or AIDS before the end of the year. It was a sobering thought as I stood before seventy beaming faces. At the end of my time, it was saying good-bye to these children that was very difficult. As I looked around the classroom and into each of their wonderful faces, looking back at me I saw seventy bright faces filled with hope and love. It was in this single instant each one of these children stole my heart.

I once thought the hardest thing I'd ever do would be to go to Africa. Now I know just how wrong I was ... the hardest thing I've ever done is to leave Africa.