My First Tears (This Time) in Uganda (12th July)

For someone who contributed significantly to the water levels of the Nile when I lived here, particularly when in the north, I have been surprised by my own lack of tears this time. I think it is due to a combination of knowing what to expect, plus my surprise at the improvements in the security situation that have kept my eyes dry.

This evening, though, I shed my first tears.

We arrived back in Gulu at around 6:30pm and took Mummy Gulu home to their village (she had been in Kampala to help care for Aber). Everyone was very excited to see my Mum (I tell you what – she steals my thunder everywhere we go), especially Daddy Gulu - who I think would rather fancy having a mzungu as another wife. :)

A few minutes after our arrival, a tall, confident looking girl, wearing what appeared to be her best clothes, arrived in the compound and came over to greet me. It was my sponsor child, Milly.

Although Milly was a member of the local dancing group I used to practice with, I had never really spoken to her and did not know who she was. I must admit I was a little dubious when I first read Milly’s profile and wondered why she had been selected for me to sponsor. She was neither a former child soldier nor living in an IDP camp or an orphan or (even) a night commuter.

However, she invited me to her house (which was only 100m from Mummy and Daddy’s) and as Mum and I entered and sat there, the justification of her sponsorship was immediately evident. The family was extremely poor and Milly is 1 of 7 children. The family only has one small hut, which is their kitchen, sitting room and bedroom. I have no idea how they all fit in there to sleep. Like almost everyone in Gulu, they have land in their home village, but have been displaced and are struggling to survive. There is no way they would have been able to send Milly to school, and at 17, she has only now been able to start her first year of secondary school.

The extreme level of poverty I was witnessing started to make the tears gather, but it was the actions of her parents that brought on the flood (although I managed to hold myself together until we left their house). We sat and talked for a while – Milly’s Dad’s English was fairly good and my Lwo has improved a bit, so we were able to keep the conversation going. And then suddenly, sodas and biscuits were brought to a table in front of us. It is a Ugandan custom that I have never grown accustomed to – where a soda is brought for you as a sign of appreciation and you have to drink it while your hosts watch you, unable to afford to buy themselves a soda. Not only one, but two sodas each were brought for Mum and I, plus two packets of biscuits. We politely declined the second soda and shared one packet of biscuits, hoping that the family could enjoy them- but instead they sent them home with us. The generosity of these people – who literally have next to nothing, is what brought on the tears. Their gratitude was overwhelming and I only hope that my small contribution will make some difference in the life of Milly and of her parents.