Refugees

This week we said goodbye to one of our colleagues who is leaving to move to the USA. 

When you work for international organisations and your colleagues come from all over the world these farewells are all to common. However, this relocation is a bit different as Fred and his family are moving as part of a UNHCR (UN High Commissioner for Refugees) resettlement programme.

In the late 1990's Fred, his wife and their young son had to leave their home in the Democratic Republic of Congo due to the on-going civil war in that country. Members of their immediate family had been killed and they feared for their own lives. They walked through the jungle and arrived in Uganda where they slept in the store room of a derelict school, stayed in a refugee camp and eventually ended up In Kampala.

They have built a life for themselves here. Fred has worked with MAF since 1998. They now have five children aged between 4 and 18. They have made friends and been part of the community here.

Some years ago they applied to the UNHCR for resettlement but heard nothing and then, two weeks ago and completely out-of-the-blue, they were told that they were being relocated to the USA. They have had about three weeks to close up their lives here and prepare for their new lives on the other side of the world.

They know they can never go back to DRC and this is a tremendous opportunity, particularly for the children. It is also a huge upheaval and a daunting prospect. Although they will be provided with somewhere to live, be guided through all aspects of life in America and get help finding work, when they board the plane in Entebbe this coming week their lives will never be the same again.

Harsh reality

A few nights ago I was woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of a women screaming. It was a long terrifying scream: the sound of someone in fear for her life. Her screams went on for several minutes and with each passing second I felt her pain, her distress, her fear and my own helplessness to do anything about it, except to pray. I knew that as a 'mzungu' (white person) to get involved would not only put me in danger but also potentially increase her suffering.

The screams were then replaced by shouting: the angry shouting of other women and men. Ugandans are not afraid to get involved when they think a crime has been committed. If a bag is snatched in the street then passers-by will give chase to the perpetrator. If two vehicles collide then a crowd will quickly gather and everyone will have an opinion about who was at fault. My guess is that on hearing the screaming the neighbours did what I did not and got up out of bed and went to her rescue.

As part of my work this week I came across some statistics about gender-based violence in Ugandan and sadly it is all too common. One report suggested that 40% of women experienced violence and abuse at the hands of their partner on a regular basis and another said that 60% of women would experience such violence at some point. That means that out of every five Ugandan women I meet three of them will have been through an experience as terrifying to them as my neighbour went through this week.

Those screams brought home to me the harsh reality of life for many Ugandan women in a way that statistics never can.

Meetings

Part of the work I am doing in Uganda requires me to meet with people from different organisations. Arranging and attending these meetings has its own unique set of challenges so I'm sharing my experiences in this handy 8-point guide in case you ever find yourself in a similar position.

1) Expect it to take several days to actually make contact with the person you want to meet:

a. Your initial e-mail will go unanswered

b. The telephone number you have been given will be incorrect and will only enable you to talk to a random Ugandan man. He will now think that you are his friend and will send you a text message asking you to call him back...

c. When you eventually get the right number you will need to call multiple times before it is answered

d. You will get cut off several times mid-conversation before you find the exact spot in the office car park where you have to stand in order to get a consistent mobile signal

e. After explaining why you are calling you will be told that you need to speak to someone else (now repeat steps b. - d).

2) Ensure you have nothing else planned for that day. The idea of arranging a meeting several days in advance is largely an alien concept to a Ugandan and once you are sure you are speaking to the right person they will inevitably suggest that you meet the same day.

3) Establish that they are currently at their office in Kampala. If they say they are out of town but will be back later do not agree to meet them that day. They genuinely have every intention of getting back to meet you but inevitably they will not make it.

4) Allow plenty of time to get to the meeting. The traffic will be terrible and despite being told that 'you cannot miss' their office you will get lost.

5) Even if you are late you will still have to wait for the person you have come to see but this will give you the opportunity to chat to the other people in the reception area

6) You may think you are just meeting with one person but there could be two or three other people present. Don't be surprised if during the meeting another few people wander in and sit down. You will never know who these people are and they will not say anything until you get up to leave when they will shake you warmly by the hand and thank you for coming

7) This is your best opportunity to communicate so make the most of it. Make sure you get all the information you need before the meeting ends as making contact after the meeting will also be a challenge.

8) If the meeting isn't as successful or fruitful as you had hoped you can still feel a huge sense of achievement that it took place at all...

Sounds of the city

In the UK I live in a small village where the predominant sounds come from birds and sheep, occasionally interspersed with tractors and the neighbour's lawn mower.

In Uganda I am living in the capital city with all its accompanying sounds:

• The dawn chorus - the cockerels crowing, the stray dogs barking, the call to prayer from the local mosque

• The traffic - the revving of engines, the grinding of gears, the hooting of horns

• The neighbours - the random ring tones, the loud talking, the hammering and sawing as they seek to maintain and improve their homes

• The public address systems - the Friday lunchtime preaching from the mosque, the Sunday morning singing from the church, the indecipherable promotion from the back of a pick-up truck

• The nightlife - the music from the nearby bar, the shouting of people out having a good time, the scuttling and scurrying of animals in the ceiling above my bed.

When I wake up in the middle of the night it often takes a moment to realise that it is quiet - no traffic, no one talking, no other sounds of life being lived in the city. For a short time the world is silent. I turn over and go back to sleep knowing that in just a few hours the cockerel will crow and the sounds of the city will return for another day.