by Judy Steel
Our final farewell was to Florence, Edward and Rose. Their faces hit the floor when I told them I wouldn’t be back next year and I had tears in my eyes too. I explained that the cost of my plane fares, board, food and transport each year came from our savings and that UACO needed to start working towards becoming an African health program, not an Australian handout. I said I thought others might be coming and that I would return in two years time for a shorter visit, but eventually I would not be able to continue making the journey. I promised that I would stay in touch and keenly watch everything that happened, but there needed to be scrupulous Ugandan administration.
Chapter Seventeen
ALLAN HAD FULLY RECOVERED by the time we flew to London to meet his brother, John, and sister-in-law, Rosemary. After a few days catching up with family, the four of us flew to Madeira for a fortnight of Portuguese culture and food.
We came home via Kuala Lumpur to visit Peter and Katrina and our grandsons Michael and Joshua. Peter had been in Malaysia for a year with the army, and their allocated apartment was near to the Petronas Twin Towers in the city. After a lovely family time together, we flew home via Singapore, only to be offloaded there as the aircraft was overbooked. I was told this happens a lot and we were well looked after, including being upgraded to business class for the flight home the next day.
When we arrived home in June 2002 we found the caravan we had ordered earlier in the year was ready. We had had a wonderful time in our off-road camper trailer staying at remote bush camps, but I had no desire to get bogged and marooned again. We decided to buy a small caravan with more creature comforts which would allow us to keep travelling but with less hassles. We planned to visit the boys in Sydney and Brisbane but our maiden journey would be to the Great Australian Bight with Ailee and Fred Wilson, our close church and UACO friends. I had a yearning to see the southern right whales that come from Antarctica to breed in the warmer waters off South Australia during the winter. The contrast of the sheer cliffs of the Nullarbor Plain leading to the sparkling Southern Ocean was stunning. We marvelled at the huge and gentle creatures.
Although I wouldn’t be returning to Uganda in 2002, late in that year UACO Australian secretary, Ian Attenborough, went. The visit was deeply moving for him and answered a nagging question he had had for many years. A microbiologist who worked at the Adelaide Children’s Hospital for thirty-two years, the seed of caring had been sown in Ian during the late 1960s when he heard a doctor named Ward Derrington speak to a Methodist Youth Fellowship about his experiences working in a hospital in Lahore, Pakistan. Ian had felt the pull to volunteer overseas ever since but never found the opportunity. When he retired in 1997 he wondered if he had misunderstood a call from God, and after working for UACO he decided now was the time. Ian flew to Uganda for ten weeks to offer his skills to Edward’s staff in the hospital’s small laboratory.
The youth group welcomed him with traditional drums and singing. In addition to playing soccer and volleyball, they had also been involved in community work such as cleaning the village wells, and their first cabbage crop was about to be harvested. The money raised went back into financing youth activities, including planting their next crop, maize. The project brought the group together as they had to prepare the soil, water and weed the crop and protect it from thieves at the time of harvest. Ian was inspired by these young people taking control of their lives, just as I had been.
He also witnessed the suffering of the Congolese refugees, sleeping on mattresses with twelve to twenty to a room, and now about 150 of them in two houses. There was also the warmth of appreciation, including one dignified woman of high standing who sang beautifully in thanks for the food and baby clothes that had been distributed. Ian returned with many photos – a favourite of mine was one of Bosco standing unaided in front of his wheelchair on a walking clinic.
Ian was also in Africa for a significant event when the Nigel Ambler Memorial Conference Room was formally opened. The money donated in lieu of flowers at the memorial service for Gillies’ son had been used to furnish and equip the hospital training room. After some speeches, Ian presented an overhead projector to Edward. Although overhead projectors are being phased out in favour of computer projection in Australia, they are hard to come by in Uganda and it was received as a treasured teaching aid. A framed photograph of Nigel and Gillies was placed on the wall.
When Ian returned to Adelaide, it was wonderful hearing first hand how everyone was going. It seemed the walking and health clinics were busy while the education side was growing. A day had been set aside for young women, and thirty-two teenagers came along for counselling and education on HIV/AIDS. The impact of UACO’s work grew with a seminar held where 250 community leaders, such as MPs, government officers, village leaders and police discussed security, crime prevention and community cooperation. Hearing all the news reinforced the fact that, for the past four years, I had spent part of each year preparing to go to Africa, and it felt strange not to be packing my suitcase.
In Australia, I had a formal function to attend on behalf of UACO. Along with Allan, Gillies and Wendy Ambler, I went to Government House in Adelaide because I was a finalist in the Senior Australian of the Year awards. I don’t know who nominated me, although I suspect it was someone from Westbourne Park Uniting Church. At first I was absolutely shocked by the nomination, but then felt honoured – I wished everyone involved with UACO could have been honoured in a similar way. It was wonderful recognition for the many people involved in achieving so much for the people of Uganda. The breakfast function was hosted by Bruno Krumins, the Lieutenant Governor of South Australia. The eventual winner was Dr Marie O’Neill for her work as chief psychologist for the South Australian Department of Community Welfare.
In the new year of 2003 we were flying again, this time because our daughter, Fiona, had fallen in love with Warrick Taylor, a delightful Englishman. The wedding was held in a private hotel overlooking Lake Windemere in the beautiful Lake District of England. The ceremony was exquisite; Fiona had decorated the room with dozens of white roses and she looked as simple and elegant as something out of a Vogue magazine. Drinks were served on the terrace as guests watched the boats on the lake before a mid afternoon meal. After an early evening rest, a black tie party commenced and went until late. My only regret is that our sons could not join us: Peter was serving in East Timor while David was unable to get time off from Qantas. I really missed them and shed a few tears for Fiona not being able to share this day with her brothers.
The wedding coincided with my sixtieth birthday, and Fiona told everyone except me about a surprise she had planned. Just two weeks after the wedding, we left our husbands in England and Fiona took me to New York for four magnificent days, a place I had often fantasised about. New York was totally captivating. We window-shopped at Tiffany’s, rode around Central Park in a horse and carriage and went to the top of the Empire State Building. I told Allan that if I found Cary Grant there (circa An Affair to Remember) then I wouldn’t be coming back.
Back in Australia, UACO was never far from my mind and even began changing our caravanning schedule as our itinerary was manipulated to fit in speaking to groups along the way. Our final destinations were Sydney and Brisbane to see the boys and their families but Mount Gambier was first on the list, and it was wonderful for Mum to come and listen for the first time to what her daughter had been up to. She had certainly been challenged by the changes in my life and at first it cannot have been easy for her. As a Catholic, she found it difficult to accept I would give up Catholicism to join the Uniting Church, then give up a very good job to go to Africa. But afterwards she told me she was very proud of the work I was doing, and for me that was wonderful.
We used the trip to head over the border into southern New South Wales, and finally take up Luigi and Mary Quarisa’s offer of a cuppa in Griffith, the couple who had so generously donated to the project after seeing it on The 7.30 Report. As soon as we drove onto their farm we felt at home, and
the cuppa turned into an overnight stay at ‘Hotel Quarisa’ – the first of many happy visits. Luigi peppered me with questions about UACO and our conversations then spread into deep discussions about the world.
We met the rest of the family and it was clear Luigi and Mary had raised their family to have generous hearts. One of their daughters, Iva, showed a particular interest in Uganda. She had a science degree and was working with the New South Wales government as a natural resource management adviser. Iva later began financially supporting UACO and made inquiries about travelling to Uganda with me.
We also met up with Julie Lomax in Redhead, on the coast near Newcastle, to thank her and her band of willing helpers for their work and generosity. She sent us on our way with two more large bags of toys.
As well as meeting UACO supporters, these trips gave me a chance to speak to many others about the project. I was, and continue to be, amazed at the breadth and diversity of people and organisations who give financially, prayerfully or in kind.
I spoke to large groups at Penrith, Port Macquarie and Alstonville in New South Wales and was touched that some people travelled long distances to hear about UACO. When I spoke of the plight of the poor and marginalised in Uganda, I didn’t hold back. I used slides to tell the stories of malaria, HIV/AIDS, poverty and malnutrition, showing the faces of Uganda.
After one talk, a man approached me about ongoing funding. He was an academic who, with the help of another man, ran a book and gift shop to raise funds for charity. They had been supporting a project that had come to an end and were interested in UACO. After discussions with Fred Wilson, they generously offered $1000 to start a micro-loan scheme for widows and youth for income-generating projects. They would continue that level of funding for the next two years until their shop lease came to an end. Up until now, we had only taken tiny steps towards setting up a loan scheme, and the widows had offered to contribute 200 shillings (15 cents) each at every meeting to build up a fund. Edward, in his wisdom, had already set up a small loans management committee, although at the time he had no prospect of funding. His committee had already established strict guidelines for repayment and interest rates and so was ready to begin with this new source of funds.
With the finances now available, Bukenya conducted training days on how to handle the loans and make an application. Soon sixteen widows were approved for loans ranging between $40 and $150. They planned to develop a range of small businesses. With the piggeries, market gardens and now a true micro-loan scheme, UACO was finally also having an economic impact on the people of Najjanankumbi rather than just giving medical help.
The micro-loan scheme soon raised another area of need. Most adults couldn’t apply for a loan because they couldn’t read or write. Many would not even be able to sign their name at the bottom of an application form, let alone fill it in. Anthony Radford stresses the link between illiteracy and poverty and quotes a study in forty-five countries that showed that a one per cent increase in women’s literacy was three times more likely to improve the health of women and children than a one per cent increase in the number of doctors. Edward’s executive committee asked if we would support an adult literacy group. UACO had money in the bank in Australia from various donations and we immediately paid to get a classroom started. It would cost about $30 per month to hire a teacher. The classroom was in the Nigel Ambler conference room on the top floor of the hospital.
In August 2003, the youth group and the widows submitted a proposal to raise pigs and they believed it would make them self-sufficient. Their plan included several sites, buying, feeding and breeding pigs, and earning a profit from the sale of fattened pigs. If successful, it not only offered the chance to provide an income for mostly unemployed people, but it would also boost their self-esteem. The UACO committee was so impressed with the submission that we agreed to assist with the initial cost of establishing the piggery. We wrote to Australians who had donated to UACO in the past, asking if they would sponsor a pig at a cost of $20. The response was wonderful, and by the end of the year $2500 had been raised to help buy more than 100 piglets and pay some veterinary fees. Training days were held to teach those involved about treating mange, worms and iron deficiency. Shortly after this, I received an email from the leader of the youth group, Ronny Mutebi, entitled ‘It’s a new day’.
Indeed it’s a new day, new hope for a brighter future. On 23 August 2003 we received the first batch of pigs. It was such an excitement as everyone got involved in the offloading of the piglets, preparing the feeds. Oh God, words can’t express it all.
This project is not only an income-generating activity but also a time occupant for the youth. The youth have acquired skills in pig husbandry at the centre.
There has been a change in youths’ behaviour and I would like to take this opportunity to thank you so much for your generosity and changing the lives of many youth who thought [they] could never make anything out of their lives. Not forgetting Dr Ssembatya, we thank you so much for being father to the fatherless and opening your home to us. May the Almighty bless you all and reward you abundantly.
About the same time, Edward wrote that the physiotherapy department had opened at his hospital with equipment that had all been donated from Australia and sent in the container. He gave an example of how it had already been used. A 58-year-old widow from the UACO group had had a stroke four years before and came to the clinic weak, lacking co-ordination and depressed. She was so debilitated that she couldn’t manage steps or access the toilet. Her rehabilitation gave her new strength, increased mobility and less pain.
After almost two years away from Uganda I was anticipating a return in 2004. However, in January I received a phone call to say Mum had been suddenly admitted to hospital in Mount Gambier. After three days of investigations, the doctors advised us the prognosis was not good and Allan and I left immediately to be with her. She died surrounded by us all, fully cognisant that she was dying and truly peaceful.
Chapter Eighteen
DESPITE MY YEARNING TO return to Uganda, to be honest, the reality of being back there felt harder than any other year. It was May 2004. The heat and dust seemed to affect me more, but it didn’t help that I arrived already tired. The months leading up to this trip had been spent dealing with Mum’s death. Peter and Katrina’s family increased with the birth of their third son, Timothy Andrew, in March, and we had also been anticipating the birth of Fiona and Warrick’s first child. Allan flew to the UK to help Warrick with house renovations, then I flew in a month later in time for the arrival of John Laurence Taylor. While Allan had to return to Australia soon after little John’s birth, I stayed to help out for a couple of weeks before flying on to Uganda.
Edward had worked out a packed six-week program for me, during which Florence would show me everything that had been going on since my last visit. Edward didn’t want to discuss the budget until I had the full inspection, because much had changed in two years. I avoided the hostel this time around and stayed at Michele and Frank Heyward’s house. They had now been in Uganda for five years and had moved out of the dilapidated house they had been in and were now in a comfortable house in Lugala, the low-lying slum area in Kampala, where they had built a church and school last time I was there. It was wonderful to stay with old friends and talk about life there and at home, plus I had room to move around and was free to make my own meals. The Heywards also had a lovely twenty-nine-year-old house girl named Pauline, who was well advanced with AIDS but able to cope with the work.
It took only one drive to bring back the memory of clogged roads and potholes. Edward lent me his car and driver and after heavy rain, the forty-five-minute drive into the clinic was now a boggy mess. I later suggested to Allan via email that we spend the $1000 it would take to concrete the road from the gate right up to the hospital door as a matter of urgency.
Despite the muddy entrance, it was so exciting to see the clinic again. Some of the plants that the goats ‘pruned’ two years ago had grown back,
and two trees were growing well. They had planted mulinga trees, which are highly valued in Uganda as the leaves are high in vitamins and minerals so are used as a vegetable. Often the leaves are dried and used to make tea by HIV/AIDS patients, while oil from the seed is used as a cream on the body. But the medicinal parts are the stems and roots, which are crushed into powder and mixed with water before being drunk. They are said to cure many diseases by helping the body’s metabolism.
It was immunisation day and it was thrilling to see people coming. In addition to the mamas and babies, there were about fifty people waiting for treatment. Initially patients are seen by the nurse, Ronald Kayiwa, and if he cannot manage the problem in the clinic then they are sent over to the hospital to see Edward. Walking around, I was amused to see an enormous framed photo of Edward with Allan and me from my last trip taking pride of place in Edward’s office. Fiona’s wedding photo was pinned to his noticeboard and another inside the clinic.
The clinic was now open two days per week for medical services and immunisations; the other days it was used for counselling and meetings. On the walking clinics, widows were always looking for mothers and babies they didn’t recognise or who needed immunisation explained to them. There were fewer pregnant women in Najjanankumbi, proof that family planning education was paying off. I was so excited to see the plans being fulfilled. When I thought back to when the clinic first started and so few mothers understood anything about family planning, some serious inroads were now being made.
The expansion of clinic services included the work of a physiotherapist, Lubega, who volunteered one day per week. Edward didn’t have the money to pay him and there were only a few patients. He was a lovely young man who passionately wanted to do his Master of Rehabilitation; there are only three people with this qualification in all of Uganda but the course cost about $1000 per year. Lubega had asked Edward if he could set up a rehabilitation clinic in what used to be his original house next to the hospital, as Edward had now moved. Lubega said there were many people he could help such as those who had suffered strokes, arthritis, sporting or car accidents, if he had more equipment. He needed hand, arm and leg braces and adjustable parallel bars so both adults and children could use them.