Posta!

Uganda Post Limited is a fine institution that was put in place in the colonial days. Its new 'corporate image' name is "Posta Uganda".

A Postbus, ready for the off.  I like the familiar colour!

Each of the older more well established towns have a post office and some host a post bank or even an internet centre. Post buses run from Kampala out to all the major towns where the Post Offices sort into post boxes that can be can be paid for and allocated, a precious post box key being entrusted to the owner. They carry passengers as a convenient complimentary business. There are no door to door post deliveries; most people do not get mail anyway. And in an age of mobile phones and increasing email use the Posta is feeling the squeeze.

Pader town, alas, is neither major nor old and the bus stops at Kitgum, nearly 2 hours away. From there, post for Pader is forwarded by other means. Or it was until April; then the owner of the rented building in Pader locked the door over a dispute and the Office was shut up (possibly with some items of post still inside).

Some Current Uganda Stamps

Since then our post has piled up in Kitgum with the other Pader mail. A few weeks ago week we managed to liberate ours from Kitgum Post Office and I was able to read some birthday cards as well as some real letters! Thank you R & M, S & R and S.Bi for taking the trouble to use snail mail. It is great to get it...eventually.

Since it does not look as though the Pader office is going to open again any time soon, we have decided to open a Kitgum PO Box. So if you are still dedicated to snail mail (and I hope you are) then our new address is:

Emmanuel International,

Pader Restoration Resource Centre,

P.O Box 12,

Kitgum,

UGANDA.

We think we will probably be able to pick it up from Kitgum at least once a month; which is better than the Pader lockout. But nothing urgent please!

Barbara Rivera,
1963 - 1994

Remembered

Emmanuel International (EI), the organisation I work with, has been in existence since 1975 in Canada, when it was formed out of the experiences of the Ethiopian Famine. The UK arm was started in 1978. Since then many people have gone out to third world countries with EI and worked in places that are mostly 'off the map'. EI has an ethos blending 'Mission' with relief and development, avoiding separating the one from the other. And we strongly prefer to work alongside local church partners.

Of the many ex-patriots that have been with EI over the years, a few stay long term but many work for a year or two and move on. Many are young people starting out on their lives, making the few oldies feel either young or ancient, depending on their energy levels at the time!

The old EI Compound in Patongo today.
The burned out garage on the left, accommodation on the right

Back in 1983 EI established a base in Northern Uganda in a small town called Patongo among the Acholi people, who were suffering the effects of internal strife, coupled with lack of development, and geographical and political remoteness from the capital, Kampala.

The EI work of health education and care, agricultural development, relief in famine and war continued from the Patongo base until 2002 when the LRA rebel group attacked the EI compound, burning the vehicle garage with the vehicles inside. No one was hurt in the attack but EI decided to withdraw. The LRA, known for their gruesome brutality were completely unpredictable; sometimes polite, sometimes murderous.

When it comes to getting people out to remote places and later getting them back again, EI has an amazingly good safety record. Only one EI person has ever died in the field; Barbara Rivera.

Barbara joined the EI team in Patongo in 1992. Born in the Philippines in 1963, her father moved to London with his work when she was 10. She joined EI with experience of teaching Sunday School and a degree in Herbal Medicine. She wrote of herself in 1994 “I like visiting people but am actually quite shy and not always talkative! (more of a listener than a talker) I prefer practical / manual work to written desk work and can be quite creative when I'm in the mood. I enjoy being with people but also like my own company.” In Patongo, Barbara seems to have concentrated on the children. She taught a regular Sunday school class. The two photos of her were taken on a day when she and the district nurse were shepherding children through the bush to keep them safe from a rebel incursion (they would have abducted the boys as soldiers).

The route from Lira.
Ignor the time; Google does not compute dirt roads!

On 11^th June 1994, just over 20 years ago, Barbara and her sister, who was visiting from the UK, were in Lira, the nearest big town to the south, looking for transport to take them the 106 km, 3 or 4 hours to the North East over dirt roads, back to Patongo. They found transport in the form of a small petrol driven local truck. As is normal even today, the polite Africans made space for the two Mzungu (white people) in the cab and the other passengers rode in the open back. The driver had been drinking. The truck's fuel pump had failed and the fuel was being gravity fed into the engine's carburettor from a jerry can in the cab.

The driver was in a hurry; about half way, passing through Rackoko, he did not decelarate as they descended the shallow valley after the town. The passengers in the back shouted to the driver to slow down but he did not react. At the rough and muddy spot at the valley bottom he lost control, the vehicle left the road and rolled several times, settling on its side. Amazingly everyone survived the crash but petrol from the lashed up jerrycan had leaked out. The driver clambered out in a panic and ran away. The petrol ignited. Barbara, pushing from below, helped the others in the cab escape but could not get out herself and was overcome. Some youths from the back pulled her out of the cab; she was hurried to hospital in Lira but did not survive. A tragic and devastating loss.

Children have long memories; and they grow up. Today Barbara's Sunday school children have grown into responsible adults, knowing that part of who they are was formed by Barbara. Some of them have gone into local politics, others into administration, many are no doubt ordinary town and village folk, most are churchgoers; but they have not forgotten. Patongo needed another Secondary School and the old Sunday school friends and the older EI staff who knew Barbara got together and are on the school board. They have named it the Barbara Rivera Secondary School. It is a local initiative, a work in progress but it is happening and is a fitting tribute to a herbalist from London, young woman with a heart for children, a gentle teller of Bible stories.

The information in this article was gathered from published EI material, EI personnel and from an eyewitness, one of the youth in the rear of the vehicle. If you know any further information or corrections, please let me know.

Pads, End of Term

 Report.

I last posted in April at the end of the first (Ugandan) term when we had visited our first school for the year.

Since then, in the second term up to August, we have visited 11 more Primary Schools, bringing the total number of girls we have helped this year up to 977. Each girl gets 4 washable pads and 4 pairs of knickers. Most of the girls possess neither before we come. Those who attend our session get taught some biology, a lot of practical wisdom on how to deal with their periods and get encouragement from the Bible to see their intrinsic, worth as unique people. Girls are not much valued in most African societies and they know that very well, so any encouragement that helps them keep their dignity can be life changing.

Individuals of great value.

We take the names of absentees and package pads and knickers for each one. (When you think about it, on any day we visit there are some going to be some absent due to …...!)

The tailor at work

We have had to develop a fairly slick buying, shipping, marking, cutting and sewing operation to keep up with the demand for pads. This has got so efficient that, as I write, we already have most the pads finished that we expect will be needed next (3rd) term and we have over bought on the pad cloth and plastic sheet; oops, I applied the brake too late!

Soon after we started this year, in April, it became apparent that we could produce pads quickly enough and visit schools frequently enough to aim for 24 schools in the year rather than 12 as originally planned. But it would cost twice as much. All the while, funding has been steadily coming in from UK supporters, with a good single donation from the US and another larger one from EI Australia which assisted us in getting discounts through bulk buying. If funds continue then we should reach our 24 school target this coming term and have a good stock of material ready for next year, if we continue. The cost per girl has been kept to £2.83, about 4.62 $US.

One new and encouraging aspect that has emerged, is that that some head teachers are getting really interested in the possibilities of what we are doing. Their reason for this is that they want their girls to perform well but for years have been frustrated by the girls missing days of school every month and not reaching their potential. They can see that providing the girls with pads, giving them the confidence to stay in school, makes a real difference. So they are beginning to ask the question; how can the schools ensure that the girls are always provided for? They realise that we will not be here for their foreseeable future. It may seem simple to us but believe me the problems posed by the poverty and culture of the families and inadequate government funding are formidable. But then some of the head teachers are formidable people!

You're doing what!?

Milly with the first few pads
in the tailor's shop.

About a month ago I was sitting at a dining table in Kampala with a hospitable English family I have got to know. I explained what I had come back to  Uganda to do and the daughter of the house, a grown woman who had been in aerospace recruitment, asked me a question that went something like this:

"What made you give up a job as an engineer in the UK aerospace industry so that you could distribute sanitary pads to rural schoolgirls in Northern Uganda?"

It is an excellent question and I laughed loud and long when I heard it. It does seem to be a remarkable change of career. But it also seems to contain an assumption that somehow the aerospace industry is sophisticated, modern and exciting, whilst distributing sanitary pads somehow sounds like a job for a janitor. Be that as it may, that is what I am doing!

After 3 months or so of home leave, including the birth of my third grandchild, Mary Anna, I am living  in the Northern Uganda town of Pader again. The Northern Region is generally poorly developed, has poor communication links and is in recovery from decades of deadly cattle raiding, a brutal rebel insurgency and brutal military responses. 

Not to speak of a 10% HIV rate and a (Uganda wide) median age of 15 years; there are more children than adults. Thankfully there is peace now but the regional 'post traumatic stress' will take a generation or more to recover from.

I wrote in "Sowing Pads" last December about the problems girls face in education and our small scale and local solution to it. Well now that I am back my task is to continue that work, make it better and if possible inspire a larger NGO to take on and expand it.

The school notice board at the main road.

Last Wednesday, 23rd April, Milly and I visited our first school this year. Pagwari Primary School, which is maybe 10 minutes from town but 5 of these minutes are on a bush track. Milly gave them the talk, I gave them my story of the 4 generations of women and girls who are deeply important to me, moving on to God viewing each girl as important and unique (from Psalm 139). We distributed 4 washable pads, 4 pairs of knickers and one black plastic bag to each of the 64 girls present. 14 were away at an athletics competition and we left things for them too. There were time when the classroom looked like a bazaar but in fact order was never far away.

Distribution time.

4 and 4

It had taken some hard work to get the 280 pads marked, cut and sewn in time (see title picture). Also a day's trip to Lira by Milly (on 'local transpot' i.e. a truck) to buy 94 dozen knickers (enough for 4 schools if we are careful). We now have a 2 week school holiday to prepare for the next few schools.

If you are supporting the project, thanks and well done. Our target this year is 12 schools. But there are more than 12 within easy reach of Pader and it looks like our production rate is satisfactory, so with more support we can extend to reach more schools (at around £2.90 per girl or £200/school). 

If you want to challenge us to extend then please contact the EI UK office, details at www.eiuk.org.uk. Please earmark any donations for 'Northern Uganda, Pads'.

Homeward Bound

It is a month short of two years since I left the UK for Uganda and it is time I came home for a visit. My ship (sorry, flight) gets in on the 10th December, rather early in the morning and I plan to stay until the first few weeks of March.

In the time I have been away, I have been blessed to become a grandfather twice, so I am really looking forward to getting to know my new family members.

The few things I have written about in this blog have all been real life experiences that I would not have missed for the world. I have been very blessed in getting to meet many and get to know some excellent people in an around Pader, Northern Uganda and I hope to get back there in March 2014. They all send their greetings to you folk in the UK!

If you want to contact me in the UK, start with email to me at tom.g.edom(at)gmail.com because I can't be sure of my UK phone number yet. I'd be glad to meet up with friends old and new and share as many or few of my stories as you have interest to listen to.

I have other stories to share from my time in Northern Uganda (and maybe home) so I hope to continue blogging while in the UK. Watch this space.

Sowing pads

No Desks? No problem! Girls sewing washable pads.

Way back at the start of my blogging I promised to talk to you about menstruation. That piqued the interest of some at the time but it really is high time I came good on my promise. So.....

What is an old white man (with no medical heritage) doing concerning himself with such things? Good question, long story; that I hesitate to bore you with but here goes!

The background is that in Uganda 'universal education' was introduced back in 1997, giving all children equal assess to free Primary Education. Good stuff. But not simple. First build accessible local schools; everywhere. And train many many more teachers. And then find that girls are not actually equal to boys in the culture and in biology, especially from puberty. The simple and 'normal' way to deal with a girl's period is for her to stay at home. That means missing about 4 days of school every 28 days. Unless they are bright and determined it is no wonder they fall behind in the class rankings, get hassle from teachers and diminishing enthusiasm from parents who have to find money for them (only tuition is free) and they drop out of school. Often to be married, for which the parents get a bride price. One study in Uganda reckoned that 20% of school girl drop outs are due to menstruation related causes.

Our washable pads. Hand sown L and experimental machine sown R.

Now obviously, disposable pads are the answer; they are cheap and available. Except they are not cheap to a girl who has no money. Nor to a family which only sometimes has money and to whom this is a new and 'unnecessary' expense. Mother has never used them! And they are not available in rural areas because there is no demand.

What to do? Well, before I came to Uganda, Emmanuel International staff initiated a program where schools were visited, materials were given and washable pads were sown by the girls. The program was on hold, waiting for a fresh start. A bit of research, some 'chance' encounters and some hard work came up with an improved washable pad design, a bit of money, a concept note, budget and permission from the District Education Officer to start visiting schools.  That was around May this year.  I teamed up with one of our National Staff, Milly, and off we went. We have now visited 10 schools, taught just over 700 girls, marked and cut nearly 4,000 pieces of cloth (for 1390 pads). Each girl gets 2 pads to sew themselves and 2 pairs of knickers. (Pads are no use without them).

Milly is a natural teacher.

What we found was that in a typical class of 60 girls (we select the most mature in the school), around 40 have already started their periods, around 9 are wearing knickers and maybe 1 or 2 have access to disposable pads. Those on their periods manage them by missing school.

Milly teaches in the local language about the biology and practicalities of menstruation and how to sew and use the pads. Then I talk (translated by Milly) about the women that are important in my life who have achieved a good education. Then I talk from Psalm 139v13 & 14 about how we are each wonderfully made by God, unique individuals, known and valued by Him. i.e. God thinks you are important too.

Would it be better if a woman gave this talk? Maybe, but women affirming women has its limitations. A man affirming women can be unexpected and more likely to be noted? Or maybe an old white guy can do what a Ugandan man could not or would not do?

Feedback from teachers following the visits has been strongly positive.

There are problems to solve and questions to ask:

2 pads and 2 knickers is really not enough. It should be 4. But 4 pads is too many for a girl to sew in an afternoon and anyway the quality of the finished items is 'variable'. And it is twice as expensive for purchasing and takes twice as long for marking and cutting.

Milly translates as I talk.

In the larger schools our cap of 60 is simply too low and we have to return a second time to teach 20 or 30 more. It would be better to do one school with one visit.

School terms of around 12 weeks are surprisingly short when you take into account 1^st and last weeks, football, athletics and music competitions, termly tests and final examinations, all of which are bad times to try and muster all the older girls.

There are over 100 Primary Schools in Pader District. Agago District is in easy reach of us in Pader Town and there may be another 100 there. Even if we limit ourselves to a reasonable travelling radius from Pader there would be about 50 schools. This year we managed to reach 10 in two terms. Should we upscale the project?

What is her name?

A Ugandan butterfly. 

As I have said before, I have some good friends here in Pader, Uganda, who are profoundly deaf.

Some while ago I was with one of my deaf friends in a clinic. She has a lovely personality, almost always sunny, is a skilful and hard working farmer, can braid hair in many different styles, is always smartly dressed, expresses herself with freedom in sign but has almost no formal education.

She needed to see a doctor and wanted someone to interpret for her. Her treatment needed daily attendance for 3 more days so the next day she came and found me. This time she came with her mother and baby sister and off we went to the clinic. I asked her the name of her sister. Her answer rocked me. 'I don't know'.

Various thoughts raced through my brain. 'But you're 18 and responsible, how can you not know your own sister's name?' and 'How come you have never asked?'

Then I began to think more clearly. My friend can 'write her own name' in sign alphabet and on paper but she is very far from being able to write or read fluently. She names herself by her sign name, two fingers together stroked across her forehead. But of course she knows perfectly well who her baby sister is and could doubtless pick her from a crowd of 10,000. Names that we are so used to are labels that we put on people. We use them for all sorts of things from birth certificates to love songs. But they are names in spoken language.

Now the deaf can and do learn to read and write but with varying degrees of success. Which is not surprising when you consider that (most) writing is spoken word coded on to paper (or screen). If you do not know how the spoken word sounds then reading the code gets a lot more challenging. To tell you the truth I have not yet worked out the mental process they use to understand the written code, because they can't 'say it' in their heads like we do (unless post lingually deaf, see below).

Going back to my friend, why should she know the 'hearing name' of her baby sister? When the baby gets older she will probably give her a sign name and that will be I.D enough. If my friend really needs to know (maybe take responsibility for the baby) she will learn the spoken name in written form. But she will never hear it spoken and never speak it herself.

Above, I said that most writing is coded speech. However it struck me that pictographic writing, as used in various forms in and around China, may have parallels to sign language in that it does not spell out a spoken word but conveys a meaning or idea in itself. In our thorough education systems we learn spelling among other esoteric disciplines. But words are not just things that you spell, they are units of meaning that we compile into ideas or descriptions that are conveyed to another person. So it is with sign language. Complex ideas and narratives can be conveyed using the hands, body and face to make words and phrases, strung together into language. That is both a beauty and problem of sign language. It cannot easily be rendered into a written form without translating it through a spoken language on to the page.

What has that to do with a butterfly? If you look carefully at the picture, you may find it.

• For completeness I should say that those who are born deaf (or acquired deafness very young) really have very little idea what speech is meant to be; they have never heard it or they became deaf before language had any meaning for them. These are termed Pre-Lingually Deaf.
• There are plenty of deaf people here in Uganda and throughout the world who became deaf as children, mainly through childhood illnesses. Then there are a lesser number who become deaf as teens or adults through sickness, accident, assault and such like. All these are termed Post-Lingually Deaf. Obviously, the post lingually deaf have a distinct advantage when it comes to lip-reading, vocalising, even reading and writing, because to varying extents they remember what speech feels like to hear and to speak.