Thursday: Orphans and Seed Distribution

We checked out of the Bohma and arrived at the compound to find people madly typing their articles. It was pretty awesome to see people excited about the newsletter. Most of the morning was spent helping people type and editing. It’s a good thing I like to edit.

We had been asked on Wednesday to take pictures of “the orphans.” We agreed, not totally sure of what that would entail, but sort of thinking of the really little kids that attend school on the compound. Not so much. When it came time to take the pictures, we walked across the road from the compound to a girl’s secondary school. We talked with the school’s chaplain, to find that of the 1000 girls that attend the school, 60% have been orphaned by HIV/AIDS or the war. Many of them had been abducted by the LRA and kept captive for 2-3 years. We were blown away. Definitely not in Kansas anymore. They lined the girls up and we shot pictures of 4 girls at a time. The education office for the Diocese hopes to use the pictures for many things, but probably the biggest one is to find scholarships for the neediest girls. School fees are certainly not high by our standards, but without them you can’t get past primary school.

We left the school so that we could witness a seed distribution in a nearby village. For those of you non Good Samaritans, our church raised about $20,000 for flood relief last year, and a committee here decided to use the funds for seeds. Funds were wired in February, and we were thrilled to be able to witness even just one distribution point. The village was something like 15 km outside of Kitgum, and we were excited to take the road to Sudan to get there. Aside from the ridiculous road, the drive itself was uneventful. The images we passed along the way were not.

Charles, who joined us for the drive, pointed out the remains of houses that had been burned or abandoned. Countryside which had been forest land is only now starting to grow back after it was destroyed. Satellite IDP camps are growing – people are moving closer to their homes but remain fearful to completely return to their villages. And a wooden cross marks the place where the retired Bishop’s wife was killed when she drove over a land mine.

We arrived at what seemed like a ghost of a village – surrounded by a barbed wire fence and devoid of livable housing and people. Though the school is thriving, the entire village resides in the “mother” camp 4 km up the road. The parish priest met us, and the school headmaster joined. These men were lovely people. We had beaten the seed truck, and so they gave us a tour of the village while we waited. It happened to be the burial place of the late Archbishop who was killed during the Idi Amin regime, and we paid our respects at his grave. We were informed that because the distribution team was running late, the people who were meant to receive the seeds had all gone back to the camps for dinner. When the truck arrived, the seeds were unloaded into the church, and the presentation was made. All I can say about the presentation was that we felt completely honored to be a witness. When harvest time comes, 600 families will be able to feed themselves for the first time since they were forced to flee their homes. And we had just a little bit to do with it. The joy of giving has an entirely new meaning.