I have always been truly humbled by the reception I receive each time I go back to Uganda but arriving with the school bus was one of the most emotional, incredible, heartfelt, inspiring and beautiful moments of my life.
I will let Beau’s stunning photos speak for themselves….
Greetings from the shores of Lake Victoria!
Two days and several thousand miles later, from an island in the Atlantic to a land-locked nation in East Africa, I have arrived back in Uganda. This is my seventh annual trip here and I’m so excited to catch up with everyone in my village home, to hear about the highs and lows the year has brought and to share in the celebrations of those who are soon to be graduating from the Kiwi Sponsorships programme. However, this trip also has a particularly special purpose. For years, KAASO has had a dream dangling on the horizon but, until now, it has remained just that – an unattainable, far-off dream. Tomorrow though, that dream will become a reality. KAASO is getting a school bus.
Since 2009 when I first came to Uganda, Dominic and Rose have been telling me how much the school needs a school bus. The alternative – children riding on the barred tray of the school truck – is both illegal and incredibly dangerous. The truck has tipped several times and fortunately none of the children were badly hurt but we all feared that it was only a matter of time. It was not a sustainable option. A couple of years ago, KAASO began reaching out to the community requesting funds towards the school bus and over $1,500 was raised but, in a community where it’s hard to find the money for school fees, coming up with the remaining $30,000 for a bus was a colossal challenge.
And here’s where my story begins.
It all started in the most unlikely of settings – a beach-front restaurant for a rosé-infused lunch with a friend called Rebecca. I was explaining how much KAASO needed a school bus but how daunted I was by the task of trying to raise $30,000 USD to make this happen. You can gather donations for buildings and piggeries, I explained, brick by brick, sty by sty, but wheel by wheel doesn’t really work for a school bus. You kind of need the whole thing.
So Rebecca and I teamed up with the mission to make this actually happen. Her company, RenRe, was hosting their annual sailing day in early June and Rebecca suggested we use this day to help raise our funds. If I could get a bunch of America’s Cup sailors to helm the boats that RenRe’s clients and brokers would be sailing on, we could ask for bids to secure their favourite Cup sailor on board their boat. I emailed sailors from Artemis Racing, Oracle Team USA and Softbank Team Japan asking if they might help out – ‘an afternoon sail for a school bus?’ was my pitch. Within an hour, I had Dean Barker, Chris Draper, Jimmy Spithill, Tom Slingsby, Grant Simmer, Iain Percy, Francesco Bruni and, not surprisingly, Nathan Outteridge, committed to helping. We were on.
The team from RenRe, spearheaded by Rebecca, did an impressive job of rallying up support and enthusiasm and, once again, Claire’s amazing graphic design skills came into play, helping to create an infographic to explain what we were trying to achieve. All six America’s Cup teams donated signed merchandise which I had gathered at the America’s Cup World Series event in New York and, along with some LV Cup products from previous editions, I also had donated experiences from America’s Cup – and from my very obliging husband!
The day of the fundraiser, I felt sick with nerves. There was so much riding on this day and while I knew anything we could raise would be amazing, I was acutely aware of how much money was needed and that it might in fact take several fundraisers to achieve our goal. I so badly wanted this to work.
I boarded RenRe’s superyacht where I spent the day on board with a bunch of wonderful people, drumming up support for the silent auction items as well as encouraging those on the boats to bid higher and higher for their favourite sailors to join them for the final race of the day. Momentum gathered quickly and I was blown away not only by people’s generosity but also by how interested they were in the cause and how much the idea of providing a school bus to children in Uganda struck a chord with a bunch of people on an island in the middle of the ocean.
The final race was incredible. The Cup sailors did an amazing job of showing everyone a good time – and doing all they could to ensure that they were ahead of their team mates. By the time everyone rolled into the RenRe dock, the day had already far surpassed my expectations. And that was before the live bidding even began.
Originally there were only supposed to be two live auction items – a two-hour foiling sailing session with Nathan and a 4-person ride in an America’s Cup chase boat to watch the boats training on the Great Sound in Bermuda. However, a combination of much excitement, many drinks, and overwhelming support saw these two auction items multiply to six. Iain Percy from Artemis Racing, realising that there were multiple groups willing to pay good money for the chase boat ride, threw in two extra rides on the Artemis chase boat, spurring on Grant Simmer from Oracle Team USA to donate a ride as well. That act alone raised us $12,000. Then, the CEO of RenRe, deciding that his wife should also have the chance to sail with Nathan, asked if Nath would donate another foiling experience (the first had already been won) which he gladly agreed to and the bidding opened once more. While Rebecca was helping coordinate the auction, I was madly running around trying to calculate where we were at so far between the boat bids, the silent auction items and the ever-growing live auction funds. As the live auction closed, I pushed EQUALS on my calculator, and then stood staring at my screen, stunned. Then the tears began to fall. We had raised $30,190.
I gave an impromptu – and hugely tearful – speech, letting the room know that we had reached our goal – we would have our school bus. A sea of smiling faces erupted into applause and cheers and I just stood there, crying and grinning dumbly before engulfing Rebecca in a huge hug. We had done it!
In the weeks that followed, Rebecca did an incredible job of helping me collect each and every dollar and I was amazed to find that our total amount just kept going up and up – people were so moved by the experience that they wanted to donate more, to give more, to help more. I was blown away.
In the end, we raised over $40,000, all of which has now reached the village and, on Wednesday, Dominic purchased the bus. As if that wasn’t enough, a few weeks ago, Rebecca decided to join me to help deliver the bus along with my brother-in-law, Beau, who is going to make a short film about the bus delivery. Things couldn’t have worked out more perfectly.
So now I sit looking out across Lake Victoria with Rebecca at my side, and I have to pinch myself to realise it’s not just some amazing dream that I’ll soon wake up from. Beau flies in tonight and Dominic will pick us all up in the bus tomorrow morning and together, we will drive to the village.
I am so hugely grateful to each and every person who helped make this happen – to the sailors, the donors, the far-away cheerleaders and of course to Rebecca, whose huge heart and incredible determination that this was going to happen has meant, quite simply, that is has. Tomorrow is going to be one for the record books – and one requiring quite a few tissues I feel…
Lake Victoria, Uganda
Three months ago, I was hugely inspired by a conversation I had with a friend called Jessie. I was in Rio at the time in the lead up to the Olympic Games at which my husband was competing and life was all about sailing and sports. However, for a couple of hours one July afternoon, I was transported back to my village world during a Skype conversation with Jessie. Now back in the UK, Jessie shared with me the amazing updates from her recent trip to Uganda. I listened with a smile to her stories, her words reminding me so much of my own Ugandan experiences, but what struck a chord most was her talking about the ‘Starfish Story’ – a story so reminiscent of the motto of KAASO’s co-founder, Rose: “We can’t do everything, but we can do something.” I have just completed a memoir about this very issue – the fact that we so often feel paralaysed by inaction, the problems of the world seeming too big, unsurmountable, beyond us. However, for each and every person, a single act can make a huge difference. That was the case with me and Henry. And the same goes for Jessie. I invite you to read on and challenge you not to feel inspired…
Emma xxx
I’m Jessie, a physiotherapist from the U.K. and this is my first ever blog. It’s taken a while for me to write but here goes… So why the ‘Starfish’ story? Well, it reflects some of what Uganda taught me. The main lesson – you can’t help everyone but we can all help someone.
The ‘Starfish’ story I know goes like this… There was a young girl walking along a beach with her mother and there were hundreds of starfish washed up on the sand. ‘What will happen to these star fish?’ asked the child. ‘Sadly,’ said her mother, ‘without the sea they will die.’ So the little girl started to pick up starfish as she walked along, throwing them back into the sea. Her mother said, ‘You can’t make a difference sweetheart, there are just too many of them.’ The little girl picked up another one and as she threw it back into the sea she looked up at her mother and said, ‘I can make a difference to that one!’
This story has always stuck with me and often helped me on crazy days at work or in life when I feel like I’m treading water and helping no one. On those days I take a deep breath and tell myself… One person at a time, the starfish effect!
UGANDA: Africa for me had always seemed a magical place I wanted to one day visit. I thought and daydreamed that maybe one day I could go and help a country that always seemed to be developing but, at the same time, struggling when I saw the images coming through on TV. Like many of us, I have limited funds so can’t address all the needs of a world that is crying out for help. It’s so easy to sit on a comfy sofa, feel sympathetic – and then hopelessly overwhelmed – and say to ourselves frankly, ‘What can I do?’ I’d donate £5 or £10 and hope it got to that kid with the sad eyes that desperately needed a hug, some love, some hope, all the things you can’t give from the comfort of your home.
Then, two years ago, I was asked to lead a team of sixteen-year-old boys who wanted to volunteer at a school in Uganda. I was super nervous, but I agreed to go. The boys raised money and, together with my parents, we ran a fund-raiser that got us all out there. So as soon as the boys finished their GCSEs, off we went, five boys and me to a rural school in the outback of Uganda. I had no idea what to expect – none of us did.
The first thing I discovered when we arrived was that Africa is not at all like what you see on the charity programmes. This was the first shock. Uganda is a very green and beautiful country, dusty from a lack of tarmac on the roads but so full of colour, life and beauty. The cities are crazy and full of life with everything from shanty towns to exclusive shopping centres. The rural areas are green and very beautiful. Not surprisingly, the sanitation isn’t great and while it’s not that hot, it is incredibly humid, which means the mozzies love the place. But overall, my first impression of Uganda was that it was an incredible country.
Our first challenge: of the 12 charity bags and 6 personal bags we had checked in, only two arrived which meant we had no clothes other than the ones we had on (and a few we later bought) for ten days. Needless to say, this was not part of the plan and it definitely made things slightly more interesting for the first week or so, however, this did not stop the boys getting involved with school life, and me getting involved with the small medical centre on the school grounds.
Towards the end of our stay, while the boys were playing sport with the kids during break time, I noticed one of the young boys sitting out. He was a good footballer and was normally one of the first to be out playing football so I was surprised to see him sitting on the side of the field. I went to check he was okay and he told me he was fine, he just had a sore foot. I hadn’t noticed him limping but I simply nodded and was about to leave him when I noticed his finger – it was raw. I asked him what happened but he refused to tell me until eventually, with the help of Jude, the school nurse, we managed to get the truth out of him. His answer literally stopped me in my tracks.
‘It’s from the rats,’ he said, ‘they come into the dorm at night and bite on our fingers and feet.’
I was so shocked. I asked why he hadn’t told someone. Jude gently explained that the boys didn’t want to get into trouble as the school is supposed to be a girl’s school and the boys are there mostly because they are siblings of orphaned girls with nowhere else to go so the Sisters who run the school have taken them in. The dormitory was a tiny, dark room with little comfort and in the rains it sometimes flooded. When the rats came in, they didn’t tell anyone for fear of being kicked out of the school.
I sat with him while Nurse Jude patched him up, then I went to explain to the boys I was with what was happening in the boys’ dorm. They were hugely upset to discover this and after some serious discussions about the situation, we made a decision: we would build a new dorm for the boys. Before leaving Uganda, we helped clean out the boys’ existing dorm and laid rat deterrent. We promised we would return.
Two years later, the boys had completed their ‘A’ Levels and managed to raise £8,000 which they sent over to the school to get construction underway. In July 2016, we all went back out to Uganda to paint the new dormitory and be there for when the young boys moved into their new home. It was an incredible moment and I am truly grateful to have been on this journey over the past two years. I am so proud of these five eighteen-year-old boys and the sustainable difference they have made to the school and the boys that currently live there. I hope this experience has inspired the boys in the dormitory and the girls of the school as well.
Nurse Jude was also waiting for us when we returned to Uganda and on this second trip, I learned more about his story. Jude is from a local family and was trained as an assistant nurse. He was employed by the school nurse but only qualified as an assistant nurse due to lack of funding. I thought back on the Starfish Story, and decided that this was one person I could help. With the assistance of friends and family, I am now funding him to become a fully trained nurse so he can further help his local community. There is a shortage of nurses and he is hoping to work at his local medical centre, the Busembatia Grade 4 Health Centre, once fully trained in a few years.
What Uganda taught me: There is a fragile balance in Uganda. On a basic level, most people we came across seemed to be doing well – they had food, great community spirit and clean water. Although life was simple and in no way easy, everyone wore huge smiles, no one complained, people were not starving and, on the most part, they were in good health – a far cry from what is portrayed on TV. However, when you look closer, you do see the problems that poverty brings – one mosquito bite and a child dies in its parents’ arms, unable to get to a medical centre that could provide free treatment if only they had the transport to get there. The failure of a single crop can mean the loss of a nutritional source, leading to malnutrition and illness. And yet the strength of the communities in the rural areas is inspiring.
The problems and fragilities in Uganda are huge and if you focus on the big picture, all you see is what you can’t do. Life can be overwhelming and complicated, however, if you keep things simple and look at the individuals around you, you realise that there are small things that can make a big difference. If we take a deep breath, find someone we trust and invest our efforts in small projects, we can lay a foundation so the people we help can then move on and help others. As in the Star Fish story, you can’t always help everyone, but if you can help and inspire the right people, then you can create a circle of goodwill that inspires the next generation and flows like ripples across a lake when you drop a stone.
Uganda taught me you can help people one by one, and that looking up and out, not down and in is the best way to help each other in this world.
Dominic and Rose have seen and done a lot of things. Every year, they give over 600 children the gift of education at KAASO, the school they created 18 years ago. They have raised seven children of their own as well as mentoring and supporting hundreds of others. Their Empowerment Group enables members of the local community to feed their families and educate their children through microloans projects, piggeries, poultry farms and adult education. Both Dominic and Rose have travelled around their region and their country, inspiring others to give more, help more, be more. But, born and raised in Uganda, opportunities to travel abroad were about as common as flying pigs in the local piggery.
In June of this year, that changed.
Thanks to a school partnership established by Lizzie Hulton-Harrop between KAASO and Northbourne Park, a primary school in the UK, Dominic and Rose’s dreams of travelling overseas together came true. Last year, Lizzie and two teachers from Northbourne made the trip to KAASO to begin the partnership, and Dominic and Rose’s trip to the UK this year was to help further the work begun.
Dominic and Rose at Entebbe Airport with their 24-strong send-off committee
For Rose it was her first time on a plane, with the exception of a short trip to Tanzania when she was a teenager. Dominic had been twice to the US at the invitation of the National Educator Program of America, first in 2013 to present at an educational conference in California, and again in 2014 to complete the second part of the two-part workshop he had begun in Florida the previous year.
So he was the kafulu, the expert, seated next to Rose as they flew to the land of so many volunteers they had welcomed into their home over the years.
The selfie Rose sent me from their flight to Dubai
They were met in London’s Gatwick by Lizzie and her mother and driven to Northbourne Park School (NPS) in Kent, not far from the famous white cliffs of Dover. There, they spent a week living with Sebastian Rees, the school’s headmaster, and his wife Gillian, in their home within the school grounds. NPS is housed in a beautiful old building dating back to the early 19th century and is home to both boarders and day scholars, around 120 students in total from the UK and around Europe. It was ironic timing to be building a close partnership between two far-flung nations at a time when the UK was so dramatically exiting the European Union. Dominic and Rose actually landed in London the morning the Brexit results were announced and I was relieved to hear that they were warmly welcomed into the country, in spite of Britain’s frustrating backwards step towards separatism.
Dominic and Rose spent a phenomenal week at NPS with the students and teachers, studying different educational techniques, visiting the homes of some students and enjoying the school’s end-of-term festivities. I arrived from Bermuda full of anticipation to see Dominic and Rose – the first time we had ever met outside of Uganda. Pulling up outside the impressive school grounds, I entered the old stone buildings and reported in with the school receptionist, explaining I was there to see Dominic and Rose from Uganda. Before I had a chance to say anything else, she smiled knowingly and told me to follow her. She led me to the school staff room where Dominic and Rose were seated, casually chatting with the other teachers as naturally as if they’d been there their whole lives. They launched themselves at me with huge warm Ugandan hugs then proceeded to introduce me as one of their family to all their new best friends. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face, thinking how in less than a week, they had already forged such strong bonds with everyone here, and the respect and admiration the teachers had for them was evident. My visit also gave me the chance to finally meet Lizzie, with whom I had been corresponding for years but never actually met face to face. We had worked together closely for months to make this trip a reality and it was amazing at last to be standing here with Dominic and Rose and to feel that all that hard work was worth every second.
Lizzie, Rose, Dominic and me in the NPS Staff Room
It was the end of the school year and all the parents, teachers and students gathered into a marquee for the final Speech Day. We were seated as guests of honour in the front row and Sebastian, the headmaster, gave a moving speech about how much they had learned from Dominic and Rose over the past week. He invited them on stage to receive gifts of farewell, voicing his excitement for this long and prosperous partnership. I loved that the emphasis was on how much NPS had learned from Dominic and Rose’s visit; people often assume – wrongly – that developing nations have the most to learn from the West while I feel strongly that there are equal lessons to be learned on both sides.
Dominic in front of the NPS buildings after the Speech Day formalities
Following the speeches, everyone mixed and mingled over cucumber sandwiches and cream scones and I got the chance to meet some of the families, students and teachers who had been touched by Dominic and Rose’s visit. So many people came up to me, saying how honoured they were to have spent time with this inspiring couple and a little girl attached herself to Rose and refused to let go, explaining that they shared the same name so were “kind of like sisters.”
Rose and Rose
When the time came to leave, I watched Dominic and Rose bid farewell to each of their new friends and thought about how amazing it was to have arrived at the end of their brief stay and to bear witness to the impressions the had made on this close-knit but outward-looking community in such a short space of time. NPS has students from all over Europe and their inspiring headmaster emphasised the bonds forged over the years between the UK and its European neighbours, assuring those gathered that, no matter what, those friendships, relationships and prosperous bonds would continue.
Dominic and Rose with headmaster Sebastian and his wife, Gillian
We were dropped off at the local train station and as I stood waiting on the platform with Dominic and Rose for our train to London, I realised that they were staring at the tracks in wonder.
“How does this work?” Rose asked quietly and I looked at her as the realisation dawned – this was their first time on a train. I explained the process and then delighted the rest of the journey as they marvelled at the passing scenery, commenting on the different farming techniques, the crops grown, the animals they saw, all the while Dominic whooping with excitement every time we went through a tunnel.
“Rose! We are under the ground!” he kept saying with his irresistible grin.
Rose and a very happy Dominic on the train to London
Arriving in Kings Cross St Pancras at rush hour on a Friday night was hectic to stay the least. Dominic and Rose experienced their first escalators, first elevator and first turnstiles all in the space of a few minutes. And then suddenly, we were outside, the buildings of London towering over us, my two Ugandan friends gaping in wonder.
Outside Kings Cross St Pancras Station
It was a strange feeling in the days that followed to be leading rather than being led. Rose and Dominic have – and always will be – my guides to all facets of life in Uganda, guiding me not just geographically but emotionally and culturally, helping me navigate my way through unknown territory. But suddenly, I was the guide. It was a strange role reversal.
Dominic loved the escalators!
I checked them in to their hotel at the bottom of my brother’s Farringdon street and gently explained how to use the shower, the soap dispenser, and the key cards, all of which caused a great deal of hilarity. That night, we dined with a group of past volunteers at a local restaurant and Dominic and Rose’s faces lit up to find themselves reunited with so many old friends from around the world, all of whom had gathered to see them. Some volunteers had travelled from around the UK, Rachel had flown in from Berlin and Cherie had come all the way from New Zealand to coincide with this visit from our Ugandan family.
Volunteers’ dinner with Rachel, Cherie, Fraser, Lizzie and Tom
The following day, I sat with Dominic and Rose in a local café for our annual run-through of KAASO’s priority list. This meeting has always taken place at the KAASO dining room table so it felt rather surreal to be sitting in a London café talking over scrambled eggs and lattes about the latest happenings at KAASO, but they just took it in their stride and I was transported back to my village home as they talked. It was with great pride that I recounted the story of how we were able to raise enough money to buy a school bus for KAASO thanks to my friends in Bermuda (the full school bus story to come soon). They were overwhelmed with gratitude and we excitedly made plans for the arrival of the bus later this year.
My first KAASO meeting to be held in a London cafe
We jumped on board a red double-decker bus (another first) and I loved watching their faces as the world flew by at eye level out the window. We had just settled in when we were abruptly told to get off the bus just before Picadilly Circus and when I questioned the driver he explained that the roads were blocked and we could go no further.
In Picadilly Circus
Not understanding, I led Dominic and Rose through the streets towards our destination and suddenly it all became clear – we had landed bang, smack in the middle of London’s highly-charged anti-Brexit rally. For half an hour we walked backwards against a sea of thousands who angrily protested the UK’s decision to leave the EU. Well-accustomed to crowds and chaos, Dominic simply turned to me with a grin and asked, “Whose side are we on? Are we with the protesters?” Dominic was thrilled when I nodded my agreement, and proceeded to punch his fist into the air in solidarity as he walked, joining in the chorus of dissent. I couldn’t help but laugh and think back on my last trip to Uganda in which we had so often found ourselves in political rallies leading up to the Ugandan elections. Dominic and Rose were no stranger to people taking to the streets.
Dominic embracing the Brexit rally
We finally made it to Hyde Park Corner where we met Teressa Macbeth, who has been sponsoring Violah, one of the Kiwi Sponsorships students, with her husband Jono for the last three years. It was a beautiful catch up and I loved watching these two worlds unite, having heard so much about the other. Teressa listened intently as Dominic and Rose shared the tragic story of Violah’s family and I felt so grateful that together we would enable Violah to get the education she deserved.
With Teressa at Hyde Park
After lunch, the three of us sat on a sunny park bench in Hyde Park to continue our discussion of the latest priorities at KAASO. I jotted notes in between Dominic and Rose’s questions about the swans and paddle boats on the lake, the motorised golf-carts collecting rubbish and, my favourite question from Rose, “How do these people not have to work?” Sure, it was a Saturday but not many in Uganda have the luxury of spending a day lying in a park sipping Pimms and reading the newspaper.
We had another wonderful evening with a collection of volunteers at a French restaurant in Angel and I couldn’t help but smile looking down the long table, thinking how amazing it was that the thing that united us all was a tiny village in Uganda and here we were sharing stories over sauvignon blanc in London.
Pre-dinner drink with Lizzie, Rebecca, Sarah and Rachel
The highlight of the trip for me, however, was the much-anticipated meeting of Dominic and Rose and Nathan. For three years this trio has been hearing about each other, already considering themselves family, but on Sunday 3rd July 2016, my dream finally came true. Nathan flew all the way from Bermuda for one day to meet them and nothing could have meant more to me. Watching Dominic and Rose embrace him as a long lost family member is an image that will stay with me forever. The four of us walked to a nearby café where we met my brother, Nick, and his girlfriend Grace for brunch. Nick had already met Dominic and Rose, having spent two weeks with me in Uganda last year but it was also the first time for them to meet Grace and over brunch, Rose gave a moving speech about how the full Blackman family was finally united.
Nathan with Dominic and Rose at last
During Nick’s visit to Uganda, the preparations for this UK adventure had already been underway and Nick had joked that if Dominic and Rose ever did make it to the London, he would take them on an open top bus tour. And that’s just what we did. Sunday Funday was spent together with Cherie and her boyfriend, Fraser, hopping on and off an open top red London bus, seeing the sights of the city.
Dominic, Nathan, Fraser & Cherie on the open top bus tour
We lit candles in St Pauls Cathedral (which Dominic and Rose were thrilled about St Paul is the patron saint of KAASO), picnicked in front of Buckingham Palace, had a whirlwind shopping stop on Oxford St, drove over Tower Bridge, marvelled at the London Eye (“There are PEOPLE in those things?” Rose asked me, shaking her head. “Oh no, no, no please!” she laughed when Dominic suggested we try) and ended up back in King’s Cross for a farewell dinner.
With Dominic on the stairs of St Paul’s Cathedral
Rose and the London Eye
Nathan and Dominic passing Westminster
Outside Buckingham Palace – a highlight for Dominic and Rose to see the “Queen’s House”
After our picnic in St James’s Park
One very happy gang of bus tourers!
It was an emotional farewell that night as Dominic and Rose were leaving early the next morning to go to Belfast to meet with Share Uganda, a Northern Irish charity that helps with medical projects at KAASO and the surrounding community. As I said my goodbyes, I thought back on a moment during the weekend, when I had found Rose staring into space. I asked her what she was thinking and she looked at me and said, quite simply, “I am wondering, ‘Who am I? Who am I to deserve such a thing?’ These things we have been reading about in books and films – and now they are just there! Eh, it is all beyond belief.”
I reminded her that there were no two people on the planet that deserved this trip more than they did and that they would carry this within them forever, the ripples flowing out on their return to Uganda. The stories they would share, the lessons they had learned, the cultural exchange they experienced would slowly spread throughout their community, helping to bring two worlds together and reminding children everywhere that anything truly is possible.
Till next time! xxxx
Northbourne Park School: www.northbournepark.com
The Northbourne Park/KAASO Partnership: www.nopakaasoschools.wix.com/2015
Share Uganda: www.shareuganda.co.uk
It’s my last morning in Uganda, the birds are chirping, the rain has washed everything clean and my bags are exploding with handmade gifts of thanks from small children and elderly grandmothers in the village. This month has flown by all too quickly but the time has come to head home.
Since I last wrote, it seems an entire lifetime has taken place in the course of a week. One of the major things I’ve come to learn about the Kiwi Sponsorships and my time at KAASO is that the actual sponsorship side of things is just a small aspect. It’s really more a mentorship programme. Rose and I have sat for hour upon hour with each of the 30 secondary students to discuss their futures and see how we can help shape them. The most lengthy conversations have been with the students finishing their sponsorships as well as those finishing Senior Four who are now going to head for vocational courses to help them on their way into the world. At our Sponsorship Committee meeting the other week, Dominic gave an incredible speech about ‘the road to Masaka.’ Masaka is our nearest large town and, if you drive there directly from the village, it’s around a 45 minute trip. However, Dominic explained, many of us are unable to take the direct road to Masaka – his own journey was full of twists and turns as he struggled to put himself through school, constantly kicked out due to his inability to pay fees. Dominic described the journey metaphorically: instead of coming out of KAASO and turning right, you can also turn left and travel the dirt road to the lakeshore where you can then board a boat, cross to the Ssese Islands in Lake Victoria, traverse the islands, take a ferry to the mainland and then a bus to Masaka. It’s a longer, more challenging route but the destination is the same. Many of our sponsor students, unable to simply finish school and go onto university as their sponsorships will have ended, are going to need to take the long road to Masaka. They will need to do vocational courses then work their way through life to save up for diplomas and degrees themselves but I know that with Dominic and Rose’s constant support and guidance, they will make it. Dominic finally graduated with his teaching degree at 38 years old and he is a better, stronger, more determined man because of the potholed road he had to take.
Dominic showing me the secondary school he studied from
Over the past year, Nath and I have spent hour upon hour discussing how we can best help the students on their journeys and an idea has been slowly forming, inspired by Damian’s tomato project last year. Many of you may remember my young friend Damian, a boy in the Kiwi Sponsosrships who had a dream to create a tomato garden, but not the capital to make it happen. I loaned him the money to make his dream come true and left him in the fields last December planting his seedlings. Unfortunately, life in the village can be tough. It was an exceptionally sunny January and February and he didn’t have enough water to keep his tomatoes from drying up. He worked tirelessly to try and keep up, but in the end, he had to sacrifice some of his large plot to focus on those plants he could save. Time passed too quickly and he had to leave the village to start his plumbing course before he was able to harvest his tomatoes so he left them in the hands of those he trusted. We will never know exactly what happened but Rose and I have come to believe that his grandmother harvested most of Damian’s tomatoes, only telling Rose about three crates – and only giving Damian the money for three crates – keeping the rest for herself. It’s devastating to think that an elderly grandmother could steal from her orphaned grandson but this is the village where people are desperate to survive and life is not always as we hope. Rose, Dominic and I had a long, difficult conversation with Damian. We did not want to directly accuse his grandmother of lying and didn’t want to labour the point as he was already so disappointed and ashamed that he had let me down because of his poor harvest, but we wanted him to know the truth. In the end, we decided that Damian will take what little money he did make and reinvest it in planting maize which can be harvested next year when he is back for the holidays and safely around to supervise the harvest himself. It was a painful lesson to learn but trust is not something to be given lightly here.
In spite of the challenges of Damian’s story, it lit a spark in me and Nath and we decided to start a student microloan fund. No bank here would ever lend money to an asset-less 18-year old but the students have such good ideas, they just lack the capital to make them happen. After a series of meetings, brainstorming sessions and various site visits, the Suubi Sanyu Fund is now up and running at KAASO. The name, Suubi Sanyu (chosen by Henry) means ‘from hope to happiness’ and that’s just what we hope to create. The pioneering group of students – Henry, David and Kevin – have launched projects growing eggplants, planting eucalyptus and passion fruit nursery seedlings and brickmaking. They are underway, they are determined and, under the guidance of Dominic, Rose and Teacher Sarah, I’m confident the fund will grow and help make a difference to the lives of many of those students who have passed through KAASO’s gates.
The Suubi Sanyu Fund team
For a city girl who grew up largely on boats, I get more than my fair share of farming life in the village and this trip has taught me a lot about pigs. I never fully understood just how much pigs were doing for the community in Rakai but this trip I really took the time to traipse through the pig stys and see for myself how pigs were changing the lives of many. Last year, a Spanish volunteer called Lara started an inspiring initiative called the Wolves and Pigs Project.
I have always advocated against Primary School sponsorships as what sponsor can honestly promise a commitment of 15 years? I won’t take on sponsors who aren’t prepared to help students through until the end of their six years of secondary or vocational school, so to take on children in primary school means up to 15 years of support which is simply too big a commitment. And besides, as tough as it is for Dominic and Rose to juggle the orphans who do not pay school fees at KAASO, they somehow always find a way to make it work. So, instead of sponsoring primary school children, Lara came up with the idea of helping their families to earn money to pay school fees themselves. A hand up rather than a hand out. For around USD$200, a family can either build a new pig sty or expand their existing pig sty to help them raise piglets, breed them and onsell them. In a country that goes crazy over pork, the market for pigs is enormous. All four of the families Lara helped support are now paying school fees for at least one of their children – elderly grandmothers are are now able to help their orphaned grandchildren, and parents who survive from sustenance farming are able to supplement their income from pigs and support their children. It’s immensely satisfying to watch.
Jajja Marvin outside her home with some of her many orphaned grandchildren – she is now able to feed them from the profits of her piggery
If any of you are interested in a one-off USD$200 commitment to fund a piggery to help a family to become more self-sustaining and to pay their children’s school fees at KAASO, please get in touch. My dream is that we can give several families the gift of a pigsty for Christmas!
I spent my final night in Kampala with my friend John from Wellington along with his partner Mirriam and their gorgeous little daughter Laria. It’s so special to have such amazing friends here in Uganda and my annual trips really have become part of who I am. It’s time to leave here now, mama and dad are waiting to spend Christmas together in the Bay and I can’t wait to be reunited with Nath who is currently racing in Rio. To all my friends in Uganda, I will miss you but you will always be in my heart and this isn’t goodbye, it’s see you soon! Tulaba gane mukwanos.
Henry at KAASO
When I first came to KAASO in 2009, I had no idea where my journey would lead. I hoped my time in the village would change me and the way I viewed the world, but I could never have imagined how great the impact it would have, that it would change not only the way I saw the world, but my place in it. KAASO has now become a huge part of who I am and I just love these trips back to my village home.
As many of you know, the Kiwi Sponsorships programme I have been running for the past six years all started with Henry, an irresistible little boy with a huge smile and even bigger dreams. He had more than enough determination to make those dreams come true, but not the funds. My parents and I stepped in to help him and the Kiwi Sponsorships was born. Other friends and family members soon joined and, over the years, as I find myself unable to stop talking about KAASO, even more people have joined in to support those students unable to continue onto secondary school. There are now have 32 students who are receiving an education thanks to that love and care.
It is easy to feel in life that we are just one small drop in a great ocean of need and what can one person possibly do? My time at KAASO has taught me that we can do more than we realize, not just by financially supporting a student but, most importantly, by believing in them. Many of the children here come from families ripped apart by AIDS, poverty and incredibly difficult circumstances. Yesterday I visited a girl whose father was shot dead on the side of the road when she was still in her mother’s womb, another whose father was killed in a motor accident when she was just two months old and whose mother, unable to cope, abandoned the girl with her elderly grandmother. There are so many difficult stories, sometimes it’s hard to take. But in spite of their challenging situations, these children still have spirit. They have determination and drive and the will to make something of themselves. They finish primary school fired up and ready to take on the world. However, without the benefit of KAASO’s incredible system of free primary schooling, their dreams of further education are quickly cut short.
So I can only imagine how it must feel for such children to then find out that someone across the world, someone they have never laid eyes on, has offered to help them, to believe in them, to support them through their schooling so that they can have the opportunity so many of us take for granted. An education. It’s overwhelming seeing what the promise of an education brings to the children here, the look of disbelief on their faces when they learn that someone they have never met believes in them and is giving them the chance to learn. It is humbling in the extreme. No wonder my time at KAASO is so incredibly emotional but so immensely satisfying.
On Tuesday, we celebrated our first Kiwi Sponsorships Graduation ceremony. We first met with all the sponsor students in our annual sponsorship meeting, run by our Chairperson, Henry. He thanked me for coming back every year, explaining that it was so much more than just the financial support, it was the hours and hours we spent talking together, discussing futures and believing in them. “That shows it is love, it is care, it is endless support.” We met with the parents and guardians of the sponsored students, mostly elderly jajjas – grandmothers with faces weathered by age and responsibility – and Dominic gave an inspiring speech about how when the three Kiwi Girls – Cherie, Kirsty and I – first came to KAASO, all anyone knew of the word “Kiwi” in Uganda was Kiwi Shoe polish. Over the years, they have come to learn that a Kiwi is so much more than a kind of shoe polish. “But,” Dominic said with his cheeky grin, “in a way, Madam Emma is like Kiwi shoe polish. She has really polished KAASO!”
After the meeting and a huge feast for lunch, I stood, bursting with pride as our graduation ceremony got underway. Courtney, the wonderful fellow Kiwi volunteer at KAASO, had decorated Kiwi House with the children, just as Cherie had done so six years earlier for the opening of Kiwi House. Now I watched as eight of our students were celebrated for their achievements over the six years of their sponsorship. Four students have now finished Senior Six, their final year of secondary school, and another four have graduated from two-year vocational courses following Senior Four – two nurses and two vets-in-training. After the speeches, I was called to the verandah of Kiwi House dressed, somewhat hilariously, in a graduation gown, where I read the names of each student to an audience of parents, guardians, community members and children. As each child came to the stage, Dominic presented them with a graduation certificate while Rose pinned their GRADUATE sashes to the happy students. As I hugged each one tightly, I thought I might explode with happiness.
The day ended with a disco, typically upbeat Ugandan music blaring from a borrowed sound system and as I danced amongst the students, now as tall as me, I thought back on when I had first met them as young 12-year olds and Dominic’s words from his rousing graduation speech rang in my ears:
“This school began in 1999 and we had little. Henry was in our first grass-thatched classroom as a tiny small boy and one day during the rainy season it collapsed on top of him. The whole village came to help rescue Henry and his fellow students. Today, that same small boy is graduating. We first saw these students when they were small, small insects. And now they are big elephants. We congratulate them!”
From everyone at KAASO, thanks so much to our family of sponsors. You are changing lives, giving hope, and raising elephants.
What an incredible whirlwind the past year has been. As most of you know, over summer in Wangi, Nath proposed with a handmade ring of sailing rope at the dinner table with both sets of parents watching on in speechless delight. We resumed our colourful magical mystery tour around the globe, hopping from 49er regattas to America’s Cup events before packing our life into a container and setting up camp in Bermuda. In the midst of it all, I did an incredibly enlightening writing course at UCLA where I met my inspiring mentor, Jennie, and, after working from satellite desks around the globe all year, last week I finished my manuscript while bobbing on a houseboat in Buenos Aires. It seemed only appropriate – it’s certainly been a year full of adventures.
Houseboat living was a hilarious juggling act. It turned out our floating homes were actually on an island up a river which meant that Nath and Goobs would go by RIB to the sailing club each morning while Claire and I rowed our tippy little dinghy around the marina in search of wifi to upload Claire’s graphic designs and my latest writing submissions. Thunder and lightning storms, torrential rain and power outages made some days more challenging than others, particularly when we lost water for three days but, as I keep reminding Nath, it’s all just practice for when we sail off into the sunset and cruise around the world together. He just smiles. One day, I will to teach him the pleasure of sailing slowly. But in the meantime, with the Olympics and the Cup just over the horizon, I’m happy for him to keep sailing as fast as he can!
Yesterday evening, Nath and I farewelled our little houseboat, stacked my tower of exploding bags into the dinghy (plus a violin – thanks Alex, young Mark will be over the moon!!) and paddled ashore. We boarded separate flights headed in opposite directions and now it’s time for this girl to row inland. Thus I find myself on my own in the hazy midst of a two-day journey that will take me from a river in Argentina to a village in Uganda.
But I won’t be alone for long. Tomorrow I will be stepping into the customs hall of Entebbe Airport where the immigration officers are going to be baffled by not just one but now two Blackmen in Uganda – five minutes after I land, so does my brother. I can’t wait to share the incredible world of KAASO with Nicko who has been hearing about Uganda for so long and now he’s joining me on my annual pilgrimage back to the village. A huge thank you to Nicko not only for having the faith to follow me down the red dirt road – something I hope many more of you will do one day – but also for patiently receiving the bombardment of parcels from sponsors that I have been directing his way. Gifts for the children now take up 28 of his 30 kilo baggage allowance leaving him not a lot of space for his own clothes or belongings. That’s dedication. Luckily it’s warm on the equator.
This, my sixth trip back to Uganda, is a particularly special one. Six and a half years ago, I first tumbled onto African soil, wide-eyed, green, naïve, hopeful and full of aspirations to save the world. I quickly worked out the whole world might be a bit ambitious but I had to at least do something. Then I met Henry. He was twelve-years old, he had a smile as wide as the Sahara and enormous dreams to match. He wanted to go to secondary school. Thanks to mama and daddy-o, that dream has come true for Henry. And thanks to my other amazing sponsors, there are another 31 children able to continue their education. As I write, Henry and the original five sponsor students of 2009 are about to graduate from six years of secondary school. Nicko and I will be there to celebrate this incredible achievement and I can’t stop smiling thinking about it.
For those of you who have followed my trips since day one, a heartfelt thanks for your continuing support. Every single word of encouragement, every message, every conversation has spurred me on, enabling me to do what I do and I’m forever grateful for that. For those who are just joining the journey now, welcome. I hope you will enjoy being carried through the villages in my dusty backpack as much as I love sharing this adventure with you all.
At KAASO in December 2013 with some of the girls from the Kiwi Sponsorships
The Kiwi Sponsorships have become a huge part of my life and occupy a very special place in my heart and soul. It occurred to me recently that many of you may not know how it was that this programme came about or exactly what it is so, on this quiet spring afternoon in San Francisco, I thought I would share the story with you.
Henry at KAASO in 2009
In 2009 I met a remarkable boy called Henry. He was incredibly intelligent, falling over himself to be helpful, seriously determined and respected by teachers and students alike. He was in his final year of primary school and had just turned 13 years old. Henry came to me with a letter in July of 2009 asking me to sponsor him through his secondary education as his father had died and his mother could not afford the fees. At the time, I was an unemployed volunteer who had no idea where her next income was coming from. I sadly explained to Henry that I could not help him.
As the year went by and the Primary Leaving Examinations approached, I began to wonder what would become of this extraordinary young man the following year. Would he attend one of the government secondary schools where you’d be lucky to find a book and a desk? Would he stay at home to help his mother work in the fields? Would he simply fade out of my consciousness as I left the African continent? Eventually I decided that none of these were acceptable.
The Kiwi Sponsorships started with Henry in late 2009 and the growth has been overwhelming. In 2010, Henry’s first year of secondary school, he was joined by six other students whom I had found sponsors for. My return visit to KAASO in 2011 brought with it five new sponsors. By 2014, twelve sponsored students had become 22 students. This year, the programme will put 25 students through secondary schools around Uganda, with another five children sponsored at KAASO Primary School.
Last December’s Sponsorship Meeting at KAASO
Marvin, in his second year of sponsorship, gifting us a jackfruit to say thank you
I have been truly blown away the response I get when I talk about this programme, the love and support that flows from people I meet around the world. I have always been involved in the world of international sailing events and many of the people I have met at these events around the globe are now helping to fund these bright young students through school in Uganda. It is such a buzz for me to share their stories with their sponsors and to bring these two such disparate worlds together. My sponsor base consists not only of those from the sailing world, but also a loyal collection of family, friends and fellow volunteers.
One of my most recent sponsors I have never even met but she contacted me via this blog which a mutual friend had put her onto. It makes me so happy to think that this can be a vehicle to help spread the stories of my amazing little friends in Uganda with a wider audience.
My last transfer of school fees is winging its way through cyberspace as we speak which will put this year’s group through another year. These remarkable students are so determined to succeed in spite of their difficult circumstances and it’s a joy to watch them grow. Thanks to your support, the next generation of nurses, plumbers, vets, doctors, teachers, journalists, accountants and entrepreneurs is being formed. It is a privilege to share this journey with you all.
Our up-and-coming nurses at Rakai Community School of Nursing, December 2014
As the sun set in the west, we flew east, out of Uganda and out of Africa. I’m now sitting in Dubai airport full of tinsel, fake snow and bling, neon signs flashing in my tired eyes, trying to convince me I need their diamond jewellery, gold watches, top shelf spirits and overpriced goods. There’s even a Lamborghini on display. Overwhelming to say the least after the week I’ve just had. My cup of tea feels like all that’s keeping these dusty feet grounded.
My trips to Uganda have always been packed to bursting but I feel like this past week has surpassed all others. Refugee camps, solar budgets, Christmas parties, countless visits to far-flung families, several tearful farewells, a journey across the country to visit Rose’s father, a final meeting in the back seat of Dominic’s car flying through traffic en route to the airport… It’s been a busy time to say the least and my head is still spinning trying to take it all in. Where to start?
I returned to KAASO from Kampala on Monday, not riding co-pilot as I had hoped with my solar technician but on the back of a boda to the heaving taxi park where we negotiated our ride on a bus headed south and spent the next four hours sweltering sitting on the engine jammed in between sacks, boxes and of course the obligatory chickens. The pounding Kampala rains made it a steamy affair and I was immensely happy to return to my village home that afternoon. The solar story is long to say the least, and ongoing – negotiations and discussions continued right up until this morning when I had to cut them short to make my flight in time but we still hope to be able to have things resolved before the children flood back through the KAASO gates next year. I will keep you posted…
On Tuesday we packed all of the sponsor children into two cars and with me at the wheel of one and Harriet, the other volunteer, at the wheel of the other, we set off, headed towards the Tanzanian border. At Rose’s suggestion, we were to visit Sango Bay refugee camp on an educational tour for the sponsor children to remind them just how lucky they were. And that they did.
Not really realising what a refugee camp was, the students dressed in their Sunday best, and on passing through the security checkpoint, were soon surrounded by swarms of wide-eyed children, hopeful of receiving some of the clothing the students had gathered to distribute and no doubt keen for a bit of excitement to break up the monotony of their lives in the camp. It’s a veritable no-man’s-land – many of the inhabitants are in fact Ugandans who left their homeland some 50 years ago in search of more land in Tanzania. Last year the Tanzanian government decided they didn’t want these foreigners in their country anymore and exiled people in droves. Ugandans, Rwandans, Burundians and Congolese were given warning of the impending exile but few believed it to be serious until soldiers arrived on trucks and forcibly removed them, leaving them time to take nothing but the clothes they were wearing. They trucked them across the border and handed them over to the Ugandan government who sent them to Sango Bay refugee camp. The camp now houses 5,000 people, over half of which are children. Unicef and other NGOs are helping to supplement the government supplies and rations in the camp and there’s a makeshift school for over 1,000 children but conditions are pretty dire. I felt uncomfortable being a spectator to such a scene but speaking to the students later, it was clear the visit had had quite an impact and it was interesting to watch the tables turned – the sponsor students are largely orphaned or with little family support and it’s easy to think of them as hard done by but here they were distributing their own clothing to those in even greater need. Everything is relative.
The following day I threw a Christmas party for the sponsor students and those children still left at KAASO. There are a handful of kids whose parents or guardians have “failed to pick them” as Rose tells me, so they remain drifting around KAASO looking slightly lost and downbeat. So it was a delight to watch their eyes light up when I told them that of course they too were invited to the Christmas party and they eagerly took their place in line to enjoy the feast we had prepared. Henry and I did our annual Christmas tree trip to his mother’s garden where I stood holding a rusty ladder while he hacked at branches with a machete and the car was soon full of the smell of Christmas. His mum took the lead in decorating and soon the classrooms were strung with decorations, balloons and streamers I’d brought with me from San Fran and the Christmas tree was dotted with tropical flowers that the boys brought from the gardens. As I sit writing, Dubai airport is playing ‘Feed the world – do they know it’s Christmas time at all…’ Yes, yes they do.
The Kiwi Sponsor Committee we formed last year is still going strong (Ugandans LOVE committees) and every holiday they’ve been meeting to discuss the term, write letters to their sponsors (tragically both packages of letters from the last two meetings were lost in the mail but this time I’ve got all the letters safely in my hand luggage) and catch up on school life. Henry lead the proceedings as the Chairman of the committee and Dominic and Rose gave inspiring speeches. Rose talked of the “treasure of education,” reminding them just how lucky they were to have the support they did, encouraging them to “try your level best to find your way” but not to “jump for something – go step by step.” Dominic has the uncanny ability of being able to get across a serious message while still having the room in fits of laughter, myself included. He stressed the importance of the KAASO family, something we all belong to and that even though there are ups and downs, if you are family, you love each other regardless and will tolerate people for all that they are. Rose had the final word, thanking me so much for somehow managing to find sponsors for all these students and therefore changing the course of their lives. Her words reduced me to tears with their simple beauty: “Emma is not just a volunteer, she’s not just Emma, she’s a big lady – even if she looks a bit small. You see – she can create a way where it isn’t.” But that thanks is not mine – it’s to all of you who help, support, encourage and follow my journeys to KAASO. You help me create the way and for that I thank you.
I managed to catch up with all 25 sponsor students – in their homes, at their schools or back at KAASO. It was nothing short of epic as what started as trying to help one 13-year-old Henry get to secondary school has become a kind of mentorship as I sit and discuss the futures of each and every student. It can be both exhausting and heartbreaking but I wouldn’t have it any other way. There are now four students at nursing school, two doing veterinary certificates, four more about to finish secondary school next year and range of others at various stages of their schooling. My dream is that one day they will all be qualified in one way or another, they will be working and able to support themselves and their families, especially the incredible grandmothers who tirelessly keep families afloat across Uganda, and that they will go on to become role models in their communities as a way of repaying the support they have had both from their sponsors and from the KAASO family.
My final morning at KAASO, I went to visit Damian’s tomato garden. I didn’t know what to find as the days had run away from me and it had been almost a week since our first discussion. Turning the corner on that dusty path on a scorching morning, I couldn’t have been more impressed. He had slashed two thirds of his half acre plot, dug holes, filled them with manure, planted seedlings and carefully covered each one with homemade banana palm shades to protect them from the relentless equatorial sunshine. Hoe in hand, he was hard at work when I arrived and as he came bounding over to meet me, he couldn’t stop grinning. He was radiant and when I asked if he was enjoying himself I thought his face might explode from smiling so much. He was in his element.
We went through the budget and he showed me his calculations of each and every shilling I had given him so far and outlined how he planned to spend the rest. I walked away feeling that if nothing else, that one project made every minute of waiting for this trip worthwhile.
I left KAASO biting back tears as I said my goodbyes to Stellah, the girl I sponsor whose 17th birthday we celebrated together on Thursday, Henry and all the other remaining children. I know I will be back next year but it’s always hard giving those last hugs and turning out the gates with a sea of sad eyes and little waves following me. Loaded with children, suitcases and crops to take to Kampala relatives, I drove Dominic’s car with Rose as my navigator up to Kampala, distributing people and cargo along the way. We arrived late and hit Kampala’s notorious traffic, ending up thoroughly wedged around a roundabout in a pile up of cars, trucks, taxi vans and suicidal motorbikes, of which I inadvertently managed to hit two along the way. Fortunately no one was hurt, just a bunch of shouting at fist-waving at this crazy muzungu driver.
We set off the next morning to visit Rose’s father, ‘just outside’ Kampala – what turned out to be over a two hour drive away. It was a long and dusty road but wow was it worth it. Husband to eight wives, father to over thirty children (Rose lost count at 25) and a prominent magistrate in the area, her father is a fascinating man. In spite of his success, he insisted that all of his children learn the value of money, that food must be worked for and nothing taken for granted. Rose grew up with 15 siblings her age and together they would work in the gardens to ensure there was food on the table. When he retired, her father decided to open a primary school next door to his house to help educate needy children from the area and to keep himself busy. Rose clearly took after her father. Well-spoken, highly educated with excellent English, her father sat with me and thanked me profusely for coming all that way to visit him, saying he was honoured by the effort I’d made to “put him in my programme.” As we spoke, he sat looking from me to Rose and finally burst out laughing saying it was confirmed. I looked at him in confusion – what? It turns out that except for the colour of our skin, he believed that Rose and I looked so similar we could be sisters and henceforth declared that I was a daughter of his and part of his family. It was my turn to be honoured.
My final night was spent at John and Mirriam’s where I watched on with amusement as Rose and her brother tried lasagne for the first time and her brother’s young boys raced around the front courtyard in John and Mirriam’s daughter’s pram, captivated by this alien contraption. As I sat at the dining table, enjoying a precious glass of Cloudy Bay sauvignon blanc which John had been saving for a special occasion, I felt so incredibly grateful to have this amazing network of friends who have come to feel like family in an unlikely corner of the world. The best part is knowing that I will always be going back and that these relationships are forever.
Fittingly, my last day in Uganda was hectic. Dominic was meant to join us in the morning, coming up on the early bus from KAASO as he had had two weddings to attend in the village the previous day. Of course, the bus never showed and so he missed the meeting Rose and I were having with Rotary John. We were just driving out of his compound gates for the airport when a motorbike came flying in with Dominic hanging off the back, grinning as he jumped off the bike and into the car. All the way to the airport I sat discussing the future of KAASO with Dominic and Rose, hearing their hopes and dreams and brimming with pride. Every time I come back here I am reminded, yet again, of how incredible those two are and how lucky I am to have stumbled across this little gem in a tiny village in the middle of the African continent. What they have done, what they do and all I know they will do, inspires me endlessly and as I look around this glittering consumerist world of Dubai at Christmas, I close my eyes and picture all those little faces I left behind and I am reminded of what’s important in life. And for that I feel truly, truly grateful.
Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas with those you love.
Time in Uganda is a funny thing. While a single day can seem to span for a week with so much happening and so much to get your head around, somehow a week can pass in a day, leaving you wishing there was more time. This time two weeks ago I was arriving in the village; in just one week I will be on a plane home. I wish there was more time but I am ever grateful for my annual visits, especially this one which made me realise with newfound intensity just how much I value my time in Uganda.
Last Sunday was KAASO’s Speech Day which was a huge celebration marking the end of the school year, combined with the graduation of the gorgeous nursery children who are now promoted to Primary One.
It was a moving day, with children of all ages performing before their parents and guardians, singing, dancing, drumming, moving and shaking. I was so proud watching them all, those I first met almost six years ago, now all grown up. Brenda did an incredible job of her performance and received a huge reception from the crowd.
Dominic gave a heartfelt speech thanking me for all I had done for KAASO and I was humbled by the gratitude and kindness that flooded my way from everyone I met. I still marvel at how far this school has come over the past few years and how lucky I feel to have stumbled across this very special little corner of the world, nestled in a tiny village amidst banana palms and mango trees.
Speech Day ended with a disco which saw people from 3 to 93 up dancing in the school’s front courtyard. We were hugely fortunate that the rains held off as we’re in the midst of the rainy season and the previous day had seen the most torrential downpour I’ve ever experience in Uganda with pounding rains turning dust to mud, flowing in rivers through the school for hours. I can’t help but smile as I write, as the thumping music from a nearby bar pounds out “I bless the rains down in Africa.”
In the midst of the dancing, the school year officially ended and the children started to flood out of the school gates with their mattresses, metal suitcases and worldly belongings on their heads. I tried to farewell everyone but it was overwhelming trying to take in the mass exodus of over 500 children who marched like ants out the school gates, spreading out across the country for the holidays with parents, grandparents and distant relatives.
The consolation of all these departing children is the return of the sponsor children and every day it seems I am met with another flying hug from a newly returned secondary student. The children I met in 2009 are now 18 and 19-year olds who dwarf me and have matured into a bunch of incredible young adults. I went to Masaka on Friday to pick up Henry and David from school and beamed with pride as these two handsome young men in crisp white shirts and ties showed me around their school, grinning as they explained their responsibility to set an example for the younger children as they are now the ‘elders’ and role models of the school – next year is their last year of secondary school before they will head out into the world.
It makes me so immensely proud to see all these grown up students back at KAASO, helping around the school and guiding and inspiring the younger children. I have been meeting with each of the sponsor students, catching up on their year, hearing of their hopes and dreams and what they hope to become given the incredible boost they have had by being sponsored through secondary school. I listen to their dreams of becoming doctors, vets, pharmacists, nurses, businessmen… Most importantly, what has impressed me this time is that these students have grasped the concept that their sponsorships are not everlasting but amazing head starts in life which they must not take for granted. Those that are approaching the end of their studies are mapping out their next paths, working out how they can cultivate gardens and set up poultry projects and get jobs to help support themselves and their families and fund the next stages of their lives. It has been so heartening to meet with them all and to feel the overflowing gratitude towards their sponsors that pours from each and every one. I started this project five years ago, having no idea where it would lead, never imagining I would now have over 20 children being given the simplest gift of all, one we so often take for granted – an education.
While sitting with one of the sponsor students last week, a new idea was born, one I hope will set a precedent and be the start of something truly incredible. He was explaining to me that he wanted to create his own tomato garden in the holidays which he could harvest before going back to school in early March. He lost both of his parents and in the holidays stays with his grandmother not far from KAASO in her small mud-brick hut where she takes care of half a dozen other orphaned grandchildren. He explained to me that his grandmother had a plot of land she was willing to give him for the project, all he lacked was the initial capital to get his tomatoes in the ground. Sitting together on the floor of my room, I listened intently as this 18-year old boy carefully explained the process of creating a tomato garden, the materials required and the costs involved. I was well and truly impressed. I gave him a blank sheet of paper and told him that if he could come back to me with a detailed budget and plan as to how he would achieve his goal, I would lend him the money. He looked at me in shock, clarified that I was serious, thanked me profusely and disappeared. Two hours later, he was back, budget in hand. Under the supervision of Teacher Sarah, the project is now underway and it’s something I hope will be the first of many such student-driven initiatives. It’s incredible what can be achieved with a whole lot of determination and a little bit of capital. He has been busy slashing the land with a machete and purchasing seedlings and manure and when I went to visit the land one evening he just smiled at me and said, “Madame Emma, thank you so much. Really, I am appreciating so much.” I can’t wait for the first bite of juicy tomato when I return next year.
With another volunteer at KAASO and a couple of others we picked up along the way, I ventured west to Queen Elizabeth park. I had never been to the Western Region and was amazed at the contrast in scenery. While Kabira overflows with green banana palms, fertile crops and striking red earth, Queen Elizabeth was a dry savannah with the spectacular Mt Rwenzori rising in the background, lakes George and Edward glistening in the sun and on the distant horizon, the hazy mountains of the Democratic Republic of Congo. We followed packs of lions, were chased by territorial bull elephants, trekked chimpanzees through the rainforest and dined in the light of paraffin lanterns under the stars. It was amazing to see another part of Uganda and the vast diversity of this country, smaller than New Zealand in landmass but with a population almost 10 times our 4 million people.
I travelled to Kampala yesterday, bumping into Kim along the way and we caught up on the progress of her malnutrition ward and the gardens she uses to feed her young patients during the crowded bus trip north. Dominic met me off the bus and together we met with solar companies in Kampala. Tomorrow morning I will travel alongside a solar technician back to the village as co-pilot in the truck of Solar Energy for Africa, hopefully one step closer to getting the solar system sorted. I had a lovely to catch up with John, a Kiwi friend who moved here in 2009, and his gorgeous two-year old daughter and have enjoyed staying with my dear friends Sonia and Paul, who I first met in 2009. AFRIpads, their business of washable sanitary pads has gone from strength to strength and is now helping girls not only in Uganda but in refugee camps and disaster areas around the world to cope with their monthly periods.
Every time I come to Uganda, I learn more and more about this country, its people, culture and life in the village. It’s a world of contrasts, a world that is deafening and peaceful, frantic and slow, contradictory and yet somehow, somehow, things make sense.
I left my heart in Uganda 