Global Youth Service Day -Uganda

Youth Service

I got to Muzinda at about 11.30am again on Saturday morning and Bob took me to where the rest of the team was working at an elderly man’s compound; some slashing the overgrown bushes, others making a clearing for a drainage, and others picking up litter and stacking it into small piles for burning. As Bob and I approached the house, I walked into a meandering maze of red ants -I hadn’t watched out for them at all. My attire at the time comprised of a t-Shirt, jeans and sandals. My work gear was still part of the load in my backpack. Because I was the invader here, the red ants quickly grouped to show me who the lord was, of that part of the ground. Someone shouted a warning but it was too late; my feet had aready been ambushed by this army of ants. Instantly it became a battle between man and insect. And as they say, the rest is history. At the end of it all, I had sustained a series of bites on my feet but for the little red warriors, all of them met their Waterloo that day. Although I’m sure they were only defending their territory, I think they picked an unworthy adversary that day. I’m not one to leave a challenge crawling around (excuse the pun) as it seeks the next best opportunity to surmount someone.

That group of children and youth are certainly very hardworking. We were done in a few minutes and ready to move on to the next house. Today as we worked, I was following orders too from the group president. It was essential for all of them to learn that leadership structures must be respected -by everyone. By 1.00pm, everybody was tired and in need of a break. Luckily for all of us, I had brought with me a large bunch of the long-finger sweet bananas and even though I had left them at our central meeting point, someone brought them over to us as the clock struck one -at just the right time. As we relaxed while eating our savoury bananas and listening to stories being told, we were informed lunch would only be ready in the next couple of hours; another group of the youth had stayed behind at our central meeting point cooking food for our lunch. It is the same group that I saw first when I had just gotten back earlier at 11.30am and left the bulk of my load with. There were about 30 young men and women with me in the group that was doing the clean-ups around the village. I asked about how it went with the well while I was away earlier on in the morning and at first, I got no response. When I prodded further, there were mischievous grins on the faces of a few while others only chose to look away. Finally Milly, one of the youth and also publicity secretary of the group was bold enough to inform me that they had decided not to go to the well because it (the well) had ‘spirits’ that did not want any interference -by way of cleaning or clearing- upon ‘their well’. If at all we had pressed on, the well would ‘shift’ to somewhere else. She further told me, it had already done this (shifting to another place) twice before when people had tried to clear the bushes around it, etcetra… Three more of the youths confirmed this and a series others said it was only superstition. There ensued a heated debate of sorts on belief in ‘spirits’ versus the people’s need for a clean and easily accessible water source, as well a place free of mosquitoes. John, the most vocal of the youth, insisted that as a result of the bushes around ‘that well’, the village suffers a high rate of mosquitoes and expressed the urgent need for everyone to participate in the clean-up. A few others threatened to lay down their tools if they had to deal with the well. It was quite interesting to watch the exchanges as at this point, even the most silent of the group said something. At the end of it all, William, the president asked for my opinion and I suggested that we should all go take a look at the well and then make an informed decision as to what our way forward would be. However, I insisted, our going did not have to be interpreted as a sign that we would do anything there just yet.

The village well is located in some kind of chasm bordered at one side by tall overgrown hanging trees and the other by high savannah grass about a metre tall. There exists however, two small meandering footpaths that finally merge into one leading towards the well itself. To draw water, one has got to bend down, dip the water container into a small pool and then draw out their container filled with water. The water is quite clear and seems to emanate from the ground beneath the pool and then runs into a small stream through a clearing that finally disappears into the bushes on the south side of the well. I’m sure that this finally finds its way into a bigger stream and then eventually into a larger water mass somewhere -perhaps even the Victoria itself! Who knows! To be honest, the place has a creepy feeling about itself and that was only during the daytime. It could be about the noise made by the trees as they wave high up in air due to the wind, or it would be about how the same trees grew forming a frightening curve over the well, or just the deathly silence that envelopes the place so you can even hear the bushes brush against each other as you stop to listen. Whatever the case, if one said it was haunted at night, the ambience of the place when we got there was the kind that would certainly paint a terrifying picture. We had an interesting discussion -the group and I- while we were there though and at the end of it all, I mentioned to the group that it was certainly unsafe for us to work in that area as we could never know what lurked behind those bushes. For one, there could be a mamba snake and we were not quite prepared to handle that kind of crisis. I also said to them much as we were doing a community service, personal safety came first and with that in mind, there would be certainly no way for us to endanger the lives of fellow group members by starting on something which we weren’t sure how it would finish. The well would be for another day, I concluded, possibly when we (or another group) are better prepared. I could sense John’s disappointment in my binding decision as he lowered his head into his hands. He had certainly put a lot of preparation into this activity. Perhaps some psyche too as well. I waled over to him and said I was sorry but my responsibility was for everyone’s safety as well. And to me, that came first! We continued to talk for about another 20 minutes until I requested for us to leave and head back for lunch. While we left, I had to make sure I was last behind everyone else; I certainly did not want an epic here with the ‘monster’ snatching the last one from behind and that person not being me. If I dealt with the ants, I thought I could too, any ‘monsters’ or whatever else was there! As we continued on our way towards the lunch venue, Faridah snuggled up behind me and said, “Thank you”. Looking into her eyes, I am sure she was relieved we didn’t have to do anything at the well. The gravity of her thank you was spell-binding; it wasn’t the same obsequious ‘thank you’s” that one was fond of hearing in the city. It was from the heart. “You’re welcome”, I said to her back.

After lunch we had a fascinating planning meeting for the next day; dispensing roles and responsibilities. Everybody seemed up to the task. Of course the proof of the pudding would only be in the eating -the next day! We did a couple more homes and then one borehole that serves at least 600 people in the village -including digging an extension to its drainage to enable water flow more freely. At least the latter water collection point was more fun to deal with. Everybody -even the 3 – 5 year olds- seemed to quite enjoy the activity. And most of everyone wanted to have their picture taken. I ran out of space on my camera memory cards so I deleted a few of the earlier pictures and we took a couple of group photos -that way everybody could be equally represented, I said to them. I check my email using my phone and I can see one from the leading daily’s deputy news editor. They would like to be a part of the culmination event the next day. Another is from Jon Camfield from the Washington YSA office, he expresses his desire to feed my blog URL into the GYSD Twitter account. And there’s a few more wishing us very well the next day. I pass on the best wishes as soon as I can read them out to the team. It’s truly amazing technology; in a little village cut off from the rest of humanity, without a single power line nor a fixed phone line, and there we were accessing information from halfway across the world on the screen of a little device, the SEP910i. I mention to Daphne, who is also group Treasurer that I would be coming at about midday the bext day because I had to ensure that everything that is supposed to be coming to this village from the city for the culmination event, actually gets there. She would have the same responsibility as I, only in Muzinda this time. I bid my goodbyes and leave in the cold evening for my home in the city. It’s almost dreamlike as I type this out now on my computer in my comfortable house to know that I have had such a rich experience from various extremes this day. My lats are hurting badly though from too much slashing and digging activity. I hope I’m in shape for tomorrow. It shall be the culmination event if you have been keeping track of events here. Untill the morrow then.