Echoes Foundation

I met Jackie walking out of my compound in rural Masaka. The road from our clinic to town is about three quarters of a mile and I would leave in the evenings to stretch my legs I could see her waiting at the edge of the gate well before I got there.

 

“Are you going to town like yesterday? I can walk with you,” she asked. I was a little irked that I had been so noticed but relieved to have local company to walk with; we began the walk uphill together. This is common in Uganda, when I spent time away from Entebbe (my main place of residence) I would be greeted with “Welcome back!” from complete strangers when they noticed when I was away more than a few days. Her next comment was the first sign of her avid determination to get what she needed. 

 

“I saw you yesterday and I need to ask a favor of you,” she said.

 

I could have predicted much of the conversation from here; as an expat in Uganda I am often asked for money, 90% of the time for school fees, and it was “school fee season” in Uganda. The prices of everything would go up (especially for us Mzungus, a name for people with white skin) including the police checkpoints on the Kampala-Masaka road, partly so the military could collect fees and partly because of the increase in Waragi production (the local banana liquor).

 

She needed money to complete her last two years of schooling in Masaka town. I said I could not help but I might know people who could (explaining that I worked for free in Uganda was a difficult discussion). I chose to turn the conversation on her, to find out more about her so I could ask friends or relatives at home. She wanted to be a doctor but that would be dependent on her grades (which were excellent -Jackie had a copy of her school reports which she showed to me). I asked here where she would work if she became a doctor and she said, “here.”

 

This was HUGE as there is nothing but the MRC clinic in Kyamulibwa; to have a generation of doctors stay instead of leave for better-paid positions in the city or abroad would benefit the locals. We discussed her family (she was one of five children). They lived outside of the MRC compound but she had never been inside. Her younger siblings suffered from sickle-cell anemia and now that they were school-age, there was no fee money left for her. For her, $800 was all that was keeping her from two more years of schooling and acceptance to Makerere University on a potential scholarship.

 

I was holding my camera wrapped up during our walk--- I often felt bashful of photographing unless no one was going to notice-- but in her direct manner she asked what it was, how to use it and was indignant that I had not been taking pictures our whole walk. I have Jackie to thank for these next few…

 

“Why don’t you attend the local school?” was my first question. She explained that no one from her school goes on scholarship to Makerere (the university in Kampala); she had a better chance of getting into Centenary High School [ECHOES supports Centenary and Trinity Schools]. There are a lot of other reasons she could have mentioned: Being away from younger siblings and chores allows students to focus on work; the lack of electricity in Kyamulibwa makes late-night studying hard, etc., etc. She had good grades at Centenary, which she showed me on the way home  I was leaving the next morning on the transport back to Entebbe but I offered her my phone and email and reassured her I would be back in two weeks.

 

It was easy to get the money when I pitched her story to my family and friends at home but I still had some reservations. I did not want to give her or her mother the money directly and I could not go to the school to pay when I left in a few weeks (a mechanism they put in place to avoid corruption).

 

A little research led my mom and me to ECHOES and Nerieda Gordon, (chair of the ECHOES Board), where we could give the money safely. In addition, as a mzungu in Uganda it is hard to give because for every person you give to, one hundred of their neighbors need the same thing and you live with the sad fear that they might all show up at your door. I explained to Jackie to not tell anyone, although I could find money for her, I could not find money for everyone in Kyamulibwa as much as I wished I could. I left her at the gate as I went into the compound.

 

I called to tell her the fees were assured through my mother and I found her after work when I returned a week later. I met her mother and her siblings. She arrived at 6am the morning of my departure with a photograph of her “to always remember her’ and a mat woven from banana leaves from her mother to mine.

 

A month after her fees had been assured, I found a ride to Masaka town (where the school was located). I did not have a car in Uganda and I arrived groggy from a two-hour jeep drive to Masaka. I worked with our secretary to find a private driver to the school and after an hour I insisted that I would take a motorcycle taxi and got the answer, “Oh no, you don’t want to do that! On this road they are learner.” Another hour and a white car pulled up in front of the office and we headed out.

 

The town of Masaka is rough, our staff complained of hearing occasional gunshots at night. The driver and I were laughing as he drove me to “St. Henry’s” instead of “Centenary” (the accents can be so tricky!) but we eventually wove are way around the streets. Despite having two and a half months of rural Uganda under my belt, the urban poverty pulled at my heartstrings more than the rural, which is muted be the scenery and open space. The kids stopped and stared at me in the car. It was raining.

 

I show up at the school compound and ask for the headmaster. The school yard was surprisingly silent (I found out classes were in session) and laundry hung across the courtyard. Once in the office, he quickly sent someone to fetch Jackie, who showed up with a friend. They showed me around the school and despite the obvious infrastructural needs, the kids held notebooks full of algebra notes, calculators and all wore a uniform. Jackie and her friends were proud to show me around the school (despite what I saw as an obvious need for improved living conditions for the girls) and then hurried off to class.

 

I could see that the school fees were well spent and will continue in 2010. I am happy to be helping this young woman achieve her education. It was Jackie’s initiative and independence that assures me she will get where she intends ongoing. Unfortunately, the barrier to the costs of education would keep many like her from becoming doctors, lawyers and business owners in Uganda. There will never be enough Mzungus wandering around Uganda to offer all of them a better chance at education which is valued very highly in Uganda, it is the constant talk of and request of the locals living there. In Uganda, 50% of the population is under 17 and 2 million of those are orphaned by HIV/AIDS and live with relatives and friends (adding to the school fee burden of each family). In a small way ECHOES is currently helping fulfill the dreams of some students by supporting them with school fees, helping with building a girls’ dorm to keep them safe, and just caring about them enough to help them move forward.

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