Truth, love and unity - keeping them at the forefront

Let me start by saying how much I love the Acholi community, and the individuals therein. I've been going to the Acholi Quarters in Kampala for 5 years or so now, either on my own, or with teams, and I have some really strong friendships with individuals there.

Life is not easy for many of the residents - displaced from their homes in the north, living in very poor conditions, often not sure how to pay the rent, or feed the family etc - the community is now coping with the extra unknown factor of possible displacement from this land as the government has identified it as ripe for development.

Today, and yesterday, were probably two of the toughest days of visiting I've ever had to make to the Quarters, and required me to dig deep into my reserves for wisdom, patience and grace. Lots of listening to individuals, hearing their concerns, trying to discern and tease out the real truth from the confused messages or misrepresentations of truth.

I don't want to go into details, as it isn't fair on those concerned, but suffice to say that by the end of the two days, a lot of progress has been made in bringing unity where there was disunity, in replacing confused messages with truth, and in speaking love and positive messages into situations where previously things were less harmonious.

But to balance the picture, and to show that it wasn't all tough going, alongside the difficult conversations I also received updates about the Adult Literacy classes that have now been going for 2 years and have 31 attendees; I met with the children who go to the catch up classes and are really thriving from some structure, routine and investment in their lives; and I heard about the new community savings scheme that the ladies have set up giving them a way to save, support each other and hopefully start new businesses when they are ready.

Life is all about the ups and the downs, and yesterday and today encapsulated that to be sure. Please pray for this community, as they strive to take steps in the right direction - and in so doing to keep truth, love and unity at the forefront.

And now, a few photos of these lovely people, smiling amidst it all!

3 pictures - thousands of children

Not many words to this blog; and just three photos.
Each photo shows a place in Gulu where teenagers or 'night commuters' went to seek safety and refuge from the threat of abductions and killings that hung over all the rural areas in northern Uganda for over 20 years.

Yes, that is correct - 20 years. From the mid 1980's until 2006, the Lords Resistance Army killed, maimed, tortured and abducted. A whole generation of young people lived with the fear of being taken and turned into a child soldier.

And the worst place to be at night was in the countryside, so they went to the towns, every night, to seek sanctuary.

Some of the places were safer than others, and at each place the safest position was in the middle, so you had the protection of others around you.
Thousands of young people filled the streets of Gulu and Kitgum, the two larger towns, each night - packing out the recognised centres for these 'night commuters' and then spilling over onto verandahs and porches - just trying to find places to sleep with others, and so reduce the vulnerability of being alone and easy picking.

Listening to the stories of some of those I've been with in Gulu these past few days, I am reminded of stories told by those who survived the Rwandan genocide. The horrors and atrocities are in some ways similar, and yet there are differences -
Rwanda was 100 days and most of the world has heard about it.
Northern Uganda was 20 years and very little of the world has heard about it.

I'm not wanting to demean Rwanda in any way - that was absolutely awful and it is right that the world should take note and learn from it, as well as recognise where we failed them.

But why is the suffering in Northern Uganda not more recognised at an international level? Why is there not more help being offered?

As I walked through Gulu this morning, my final morning before returning to Kampala, I reflected on the fact that everyone in that town, and in the area generally over the age of 10 has had a personal experience of the LRA war. That means that every child of secondary school age and every adult has inside them some level of trauma that they are trying to learn to live with, process, work through, rise above.

Thank goodness for the likes of ILA who are helping to bring hope into those lives. And thank you Lord that I have had the honour of being able to join them on that journey - may it be a journey that we travel together for many a year to come.

Lukodi – an untold massacre

Lukodi is a small rural community, about 20 km north of Gulu, along a dirt track that means it takes a good 45 mins to drive there.

In 2004 it was the site of a massive IDP camp for internally displaced people who were fleeing from the Lords Resistance Army. These people had been told that they would be safe at the camp, which composed hundreds and hundreds of mud-huts all packed tightly together, and with a battalion of Uganda soldiers at the centre to ‘protect’ them.

On the 19^th May 2004, a young lad who had been abducted from home and was now serving as a child soldier for the LRA entered Lukodi pretending that he had escaped from the LRA and was returning home. Word got out, and many people came out to greet him and celebrate the return of one of their own.

Unfortunately it was a trap!

At the same time as the lad was pretending to be the returning son, three groups of highly armed LRA rebels were positioning themselves around the IDP camp, and a fourth one was on its way to a nearby fort of Uganda soldiers so as to prevent them from coming and helping protect Lukodi.

As darkness fell, the LRA attacked from all sides. Bayonets, guns, grenades, fire – all were used to attack the IDP camp, and the soldiers who were in the centre found themselves trapped and unable to assist.

Families were herded into huts that were then burned to the ground, anyone fleeing was shot on sight – by nightfall the stench of death was everywhere.

The next day those who had managed to escape tentatively returned to bury the dead – but no one stayed for long, for fear of the LRA rebels coming back to finish what they had started.

Today, we visited the site of the Lukodi massacre. A simple stone cross marks the spot that was the centre of the camp where the killings took place, and we heard from Kennedy, one of those who survived the massacre and now serves on the local community committee. He told the story quietly, matter-of-factly, and without judgment. It was painful to listen to, as it always is; indeed I hope that listening to stories of mans acts of total inhumanity against each other will never stop being painful.

Kennedy finished by making one plea – that we tell the story of Lukodi to others, so that all those deaths will not be in vain but will help to remind people that wars are never good, never the right answer, and that we should all do what we can to pursue peace wherever we are.

So this is what I am doing – telling the story. Sadly I know that massacres like Lukodi continue to take place, and it seems that humankind will never learn, but that is no reason to not try and make a difference, and in honour of all those who died on the 18^th May 2004, in a rural part on northern Uganda – I’m certainly going to do my best.

Being in Gulu – a dream come true

I first heard about the town of Gulu many years ago, ie in the 1990s, through the work of Christian Aid, of which I have been a lifetime supporter.

At the time, there was an appalling war in the north, with terrible atrocities being carried out by Jospeh Kony and the Lords Resistance Army, in particular agains the Acholi tribe for which Gulu district is their tribal homeland.

No one was safe, but particularly vulnerable were teenagers who lived in rural areas, as they were seen as a ‘soft target’ for the LRA to abduct and use as child soldiers or war brides. As a result, for these teenagers to have any hope of surviving, they had to go to the towns each night to seek places of safe refuge.

Christian Aid was involved in their usual 'high-quality but shunning the glory' way in supporting a local grass-roots partner who ran shelters for these teenagers or ‘night commuters’ as they became known. Life-saving shelters that allowed teenagers to live to see another day, and I remember reading about this project and praying a 3-fold prayer: that one day the horrors would be over, that peace would return to the area and that I would be able to go to Gulu myself.

The first two parts to the prayer have been increasingly answered for a while now, and today the final part was answered, as I am writing this in Gulu!

I am here with Robin, a good friend and qualified counselor from back home who is spending the next 3 days delivering counseling training workshops for a local NGO. This organization, I Live Again Uganda, is Acholi-based, was set up by a Gulu couple Benson and Ruth Ocen, and focuses on providing trauma counseling for Acholi people still living through the traumas experienced back in the days of the LRA. The demand for counseling , all these years on, is still incredibly high, and I’m delighted that we can input to the work of ILA by helping to build their capacity in this way.

I’ve known about ILA for a few years now, as they also have a base in Acholi Quarters in Kampala, where they also do trauma counseling, as well as providing support for families wanting to relocate back to the north. So I’ve known them as another link to Gulu, but until now the ability to get here has evaded me.

But looking back it is very evident how God has had it all sorted for ages – not that I should be surprised by that, let’s face it, God’s timing is always perfect isn’t it. Chatting with Benson and Ruth today- who lived through the war, can remember the night commuters, and were thrilled to hear of my prayer all those years back - this is clearly the right time for ILA regarding increasing their capacity for counseling. Just in the past few weeks they have done some outreach work into villages and people are coming forward like never before for counseling, both victims and perpetrators – the time is right for having increased numbers of people able to respond to that need.

So, I’m delighted to be here, I’m looking forward to the next few days, and I’m excited to see what God has in store as the bigger picture to all of this, as I have a feeling that this isn’t a one-off visit, but that this will be leading to a deeper involvement for me and or Robin and or the organisations we each represent.

Hungry In Solidarity

As some of you will know, this week I am taking part in a ‘Give It Up for 125’ challenge. It is to raise awareness, and funds, for the Bristol-based charity One25 (www.one25.org.uk) which works with vulnerable and abused women, many of whom are caught up in drugs, prostitution and other street work.

It is an incredibly inspirational charity, doing some really great work with those who, for a myriad of reasons have found themselves living on the edge of our society and yet who deserve so much more.

I have chosen to give up solid food for 125 hours, and as I write I am just over 3/5 of the way through the challenge. I’m still doing liquids, and due to the number of mayoral duties going on, and the amount of energy required, I am allowing myself a cup of soup, a smoothie and a mug of hot chocolate each day as well as water and tea. But I have to say I am longing to actually chew on some food again, and the number of times my fingers have subconsciously wandered to the biscuits, fruit or any other bit of food sitting around!

This little piece is me reflecting on what I’ve learnt through taking on this challenge, and in so doing partly just reminding myself why I am doing it, but also using it as a way to raise awareness

The main learning point: a reminder that food is not just what staves off hunger pangs, but it also fuels the body, helps keep the energy levels up, helps the body keep warm, and helps keep concentration levels up. Everything has been harder work this week – due to the lack of food – even writing this is taking longer than it normally would.

I’ve also been reminded just how much I take access to food for granted – how lucky I am to have a lifestyle that means we can afford to go to the shops and buy food as regularly as is needed, and even more to buy the foods I fancy rather than only the cheapest options available.

To have cupboards with food in them, rather than cupboards whose bare shelves are a stark reminder of the food not present

Through all this my recurring thought has been: what must it be like for those who don’t have easy or regular access to food? How do they cope? How do they function? How do they have the energy to get everything done?

And if you add on top of that the fact that many will be enduring various other issues as well: homelessness, struggling with addictions, caught up in violent and abusive relationships, unemployment….

And its all happening just down the road – in Bristol, and in every other city in the UK. This isn’t something happening on the other side of the world, its happening here.

It all drives home just important the work of organisations like One25 is – their unconditional, holistic, ongoing support for women who need it most. If Jesus were here in Bristol, He’d be right down there with these women, showing them unconditional love, and One25 are demonstrating Jesus through what they do.

As I write this I’m hungry – but I’m glad I’m hungry, because I feel as though through my hunger I am drawing a little closer to those women who, through no fault of their own, need the support and love of Christ – and who can receive it through the work of One25.

If you’d like to show you care as well, please sponsor my last few hours of foodlessness:

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/helenharrison8

Ema - 6 months on and doing good!

On the 20th Feb this year I posted a blog entitled 'The Highs and One Low of an Acholi visit' (http://softhearthardfeet.blogspot.ug/2016/02/the-highs-and-one-low-of-acholi-visit.html if you want to read it again)

The 'low' was the visit I made to a dear friend, Catherine, and her husband Jonathan, and their 3 day old baby, and hearing about how they were struggling to feed the baby as they didn't have the money to buy baby milk that was guaranteed safe to drink, and yet because Catherine was HIV +ve she had been told she couldn't breast feed.

It was a heartbreaking situation - seeing the desperation on the faces of the lovely parents, as they had to cope with knowing that due to their poverty, each time they fed their baby, they might be giving him contaminated and potentially fatal milk.

Well today, I was able to go back, and visit Catherine and baby Ema again. Jonathan wasn't around, he was out trying to find work, but what a joyous time it was to meet up with Ema, now 6 months old, and thriving!

Thanks to some financial donations, we were able to give Catherine the money she needed to ensure that Ema had good quality milk made with safe water, and just look at the outcome!

What a wonderful answer to prayer! Praise the Lord indeed :-)

Baby Ema with Catherine his mum 

Baby Ema fascinated by the 'selfie' camera mode!

Konka – the next bit of the jigsaw

Matthias is another of the gold miners in Busia. When I met him, he voiced his own thoughts in praise of the Kacha.

He said: ‘it has saved us our life as we have less use of mercury and so we don’t have as many dangers of using mercury any more. Now we only use a tiny amount to do the final amalgamate. This is so much better than before when we had to use more. There are so many dangers associated with Mercury – first hand for those using it, also the risk of children getting contaminated by it when they come by to see their mums; if the women are pregnant it is extra dangerous as the use of the mercury can affect the baby; and then of course we don’t know if it is in the water systems from being spilled, or from the washings. The environment has suffered through using the use of mercury in the gold process, and so have we. If we can process the gold without using mercury it will make our lives so much better, so much healthier, and also for our children. And it will make our environment so much cleaner and better. We just want to be free from having to use mercury, so if we can get the Konka as well that will be our prayers answered’

And that is our aim: to provide the miners with the final pieces of equipment that they need so that they will have the ability to do the full processing of the gold in a completely mercury-free way. The full set is one Kacha, two Mastas, one Konka and one Smelter – once they have all the pieces they will be set. Their lives will be mercury-free,  they will be recovering more gold from the same amount of ore, they will have time to carry out all the other aspects of life that make up the day-to-day routine of rural Ugandan life, and they will be gaining some more income so the children can go to school, healthcare bills can be covered, clothes can be bought, and repairs to housing etc can be made.

What is really exciting is that, thanks to the input of Ugandan NGO EWAD who are facilitating a whole range of additional pieces of training, and work-based improvements, the miners, and the groups in which they work are moving ever closer to becoming certified as fairtrade gold producers.

One of the lasting memories for me about visiting these gold miners, apart from the depth of praise and rejoicing that they had for the impact already made by the Kacha, and the hope that they have for the added benefits of the Konka, was the paradox seen between their lifestyles and the mineral they are finding.

Here they are, digging for gold – an item most associated with wealth and prosperity, and yet many of the miners are living in rural poverty, and in houses, some of which are perched right on the edge of gaping holes in the ground that are the mineshafts. The least we can do is equip and empower them to be able to achieve better working conditions, better living conditions, better family lives and more hope for the future.

It has been a fascinating visit to Busia to meet the small-scale artisan gold miners, and their cooperative groups. My thanks go to EWAD, and especially Margaret, Joshua and Kevin, for leading, photographing and driving respectively. Also to EWAD generally for all that the whole team are tirelessly doing to help transform so many lives.

Thanks also go to Greg Valerio for introducing me to the project in the first place and to the Guernsey Overseas Aid Commission for donating the money to CRED to enable purchase of the Kacha and Mastas.

A massive thanks goes to the miners – for their welcome, their willingness to show me round and answer what must have seemed like some pretty daft questions, and for all the hard work they put in day after day after day – I feel so honoured to now be involved in their lives, and in helping to transform those lives for the better.

But most of all thanks be to God, for so beautifully and perfectly linking all the different people together who feature in any way in the story of Kachas, Mastas, Konkas and Smelters in Uganda.

PS if you want to be part of the story – it’s not too late! Go to http://cred.org.uk/gold/ to make a donation J