A trip to Uganda in bid to aid school

We have come to realize that this work means more than just more room for teaching. We will buy windows from local fabricators, cement from local suppliers and we will hire local masons and carpenters to assemble the buildings. This will be a boon, albeit modest, to the local economy. But it will mean a few more local people with money in their pockets able to buy local goods themselves. This is the way life can return to normal in Gulu. When money goes directly into the local economies through nonprofit groups, it is an immediate stimulus. People can begin to focus on a future. They can get up in the morning planning for the day ahead. For now, as Denis tells us, the mentality remains that waking up in the morning is a great achievement unto itself.

We travel to Amuru to see the site of Abitimo’s first school. It is some 45 kilometers to the northwest. As we drive, we pass several displacement camps.

Along the road, we see many signs warning of land mines. We are certain that they are no longer be much of a problem. We are accompanied by a full load of board members, faculty and Abitimo. Nevertheless, it is sobering, as are the increasingly frequent sightings of soldiers with automatic weapons.

We stop at the Amuru camp to pay respects to the local camp officials. We walk through the camp some distance to the office. It is an enlightening experience. It is hot and dry. Flies are near constant. Even with most of the occupants out working the fields (now permitted) there are many, many people in the streets. Clothes are, of course, ragged. Many children, with no school to attend, roam freely.

The faces remain bright and cheerful in spite of the deprivation. They surely miss their homes, the openness of the savannah that we see beyond the huts. But life can still be lived. Laughter can still occur.