Bryan Bukenya. Gone too soon.

I have usually joked with people that a school and a prison are similar institutions because in both one is locked down for what seems like ages with people that are not of their choosing forcing them to have a common history. In this case I would like to clearly detract from this perception of school. I met a good boy and later man in Bryan Bukenya while I attended school. Even though I had some bad memories of school (and don't we all), my friendship with Bryan was one of those that kept me looking up and going the whole time. I'm proud and thankful to God that he made our paths cross. I will forever cherish those memories of our time together.

Meeting Bryan

Taking breakfast cereal as a midnight snack would never raise an eyebrow where we lived. If it were unlawful, I think we would all have been culprits at the time. When we were all done with 'snacking' as we called it then, someone would out the lights and then we would either continue our talking under our monochrome bed-covers or if we were too tired, simply wander off to dreamland, one by one.

A few days into our established 'culture', along came this boy that preferred to dilute the culture after the midnight snack, baring down to his usually bright red or black designer underwear, to do 3 or 4 sets of 20 press-ups. Because he took his time while going at it and also did them with so much pomp and brilliant fanfare, this also meant the lights stayed on longer through the night -or morning since it would be past midnight anyway. It's these antics that sparked off a verbal fighting match between Bryan and the bigger boys who preferred to have the lights out as soon as the 'snacking' was done with. That's how I first became aware of Bryan Bukenya. For our lighting, we had long fluorescent tube-lamps that were activated by a starter switch conveniently placed right under the lamp holder and above the lamp itself. When there was no starter switch inserted, the lamps wouldn't light up however hard one tried. Someone tired of Bryan's early ante meridian antics seemed to take advantage of our lighting system and took the starter switches out of the lamps on our side of the accommodation hall so that once the lights were switched off the first time, they couldn't be switched back on without a starter switch. The following night, Bryan seemed disappointed but nonetheless, went ahead with doing his press-ups. I think he must have done only about 20 then because he made sure to count out rather loudly while he was at them. From my bunk, I could hear him through heavy breaths count 16-17-18-19… and then a loud bang at 20 as he collapsed on the floor, an exhausted mound of bone and muscle. That was Bryan for you. Even without lighting, he persevered with his exercises. About a week later, we had our first one-on-one talk together when one afternoon after classes, he brought me a starter switch that I think he must have ‘nicked’ from somewhere, to keep for him to use to start up the light lamps later that night. I enjoyed reading the Asterix-Obelix comics selection late into the night and my bunk was also located directly below the fluorescent lamp holder so I wouldn’t have a problem with the lights on a bit longer anyway. And that's how our relationship developed, from tackling a common light problem to sharing many other experiences together both in and outside of school.

The Bryan I knew

I was never one for football but when the English premiership football craze hit our lot, I remember cheering Manchester United's Fabien Barthez along with Bryan and some others. "The greatest team of all time", we all sang out then. Along the way, Bryan being an ardent football player as well picked up the trade name 'Blanc' after French footballer Laurent Blanc. I think it must have been Arsenal that took the day that season. The next football season, Bryan amazed us all that had supported Manchester United when he professed his love and undying support for Arsenal football club. I say ‘amazed us’ because it was virtually unheard of for one to switch allegiances so easily and especially with such seemingly determined passion. Unpredictable. That was Bryan. And yet even in his unpredictability, he maintained a rare sense of loyalty to his new-found cause; whether it was a football team, an idea, a friend or even simply a design brand. It's this quality in him that I think had many clamouring for Bryan not to be on the opposing side of their arguments. When Bryan believed in something, it was usually to the death. I only learnt later in life when we were out of school that his position on something actually softened if you sat down with him and had a one-on-one conversation, slowly and carefully laying your facts and figures down for him. If they weighed out against his, you'd succeed in having him on your side.

Political education had been one of the newly introduced teachable subjects for our school syllabus and the administration had brought on a new teacher to kick-start the process. Maybe it was the man or perhaps his teaching style, but in retrospect, I cannot remember a single soul back then that wanted the political education teacher gone even after the bell signalling the end of his lesson had gone. Bryan was one of those that literally pulled the teacher, tugging at his clothes to keep him in the class, every time the bell went. With political education, it was for us usually an insatiable hunger to learn. Bryan would take those political debates back with him to his accommodation hall, drawing up ever more controversy when he differed in opinion with others (or vice versa) on a particular issue. Another time, when one of our teachers had given birth, Bryan had led the entire class to raise funds towards the purchase of a 'congratulations' gift package and in small groups of ten had marched us to the teacher's home, a few kilometres outside the school campus. On our way back, Bryan took me on a detour for a small treat: to have a hair-cut in a real salon. Back then, that was a lot better than the single school barber who came in only once a week and sometimes even less frequently, to serve a population of 500+. He also offered little choice for variety anyway. Bryan got his hair-cut too – a trademark crew cut – but then I realised later that he would be visiting a girls' school the next day, hence the convenient detour. Bryan loved smart. He was one of the few boys in my class that kept his tie on for the most part of the day. Once, when Sylvia Owori was the 'new thing' in town, Bryan had gone by the newly opened ‘Sylvie's boutique’ and picked up a pair of classic shoes for school. That was the first time I ever heard of a shoe design called 'IKON'. Our whole class and maybe a couple more below us heard of it too then. Bryan certainly made sure of that. I could almost swear Bryan's 'IKON' became the most famous non-living member of our class. Bryan was a smart dresser and he certainly had style!

Once, for a whole year, I was paired with Bryan in class. That meant we sat together and formed our study groups together too. It was during that time that our bond as friends grew stronger and we each learnt a great deal about the other's life. One day, going back to our accommodation halls after classes, Bryan looked at me and said he was tired of having a skinny friend for a neighbour and that I had to start working out so I could add some muscle mass to my frame. 'Kabawo' (as flat as a log), is the term he'd actually used to describe what he thought my torso looked like. Well, Bryan and another friend had this private gym thing going and this was more or less like my invitation to the club. So at sweet sixteen I was introduced to the world of weight-training in an improvised local school 'private gym'. We would work out for an hour or more after classes for 4-5 days a week doing the same range of exercises everyday! When I progressed to a real gym and a professional trainer later, I learnt that we'd been doing a lot of things the wrong way but at that time, Bryan and the other friend were my personal trainers. I did whatever they did or told me to do. It was like family how we worked out; fluctuating between 48 and 50 Kgs at the time, I was the lightest and I think weakest too, of our posse trio, so I needed a 'spot' most of the times especially when I would get to the last 5 reps of my set of exercises; these were either bench presses, shoulder presses or the bicep curls -we never veered far from those three with the weights. Bryan would usually 'spot' the two of us, cheering us on, encouraging us to complete the sets. Bryan never gave up on you! Once, tired of the monotony, I had abandoned the 'gym' to go play some basketball and when I had just made team, I saw Bryan coming out to the basketball court as he pointed at me. "Man, I can't leave you here. You know where you have to be," he shouted out at me. You couldn't just say no to Bryan back then. He pulled me by the arm and walked me back to the 'gym' as he lectured me about 'collective responsibility'. Apparently, I should have let him or the other friend know first, before I wandered off like that, and then that 'gym day' would have been cancelled for all of us, allowing everyone to go for the field sports. "Besides" he said, "You have all the weekend for basketball". Bryan was caring like that. We would later exchange notes on the correct technique of weight-training and dieting when I landed a new professional personal trainer some few years down the road. I remember Bryan waking me up at 1.00am in the morning with cold water over my face and literally dragging me out of bed to go and study. We would do that for about a couple of hours at the most and then he’d pull out his stash of letters from girls and have me edit his replies. Once I had been replying a letter of my own and Bryan had asked to see it but I told him I didn’t think it was his business. He had pulled it away from me anyway and read it amidst loud guffaws that some people said we actually shared (the laughter I mean). When he was done, he told me everything about me was his business because I was his friend. That was Bryan.

And then outside of school, there were the parties and the girls. One thing I'll say about Bryan first is that I think he was one really focused lad. For all the time that I was with him and even when we went to new places after school, Bryan was usually this lad in a committed relationship. Whenever I asked, I never heard him say, "Oh, I am single now" or whatever, he was usually seeing someone and I think that saved him a lot of trouble in the long run. Bryan loved and knew how to have a good time with friends. If he wasn't hosting one, he was calling you to go with him to a party. Not being one for loud parties myself, I usually had to decline his party offers. I remember him distinctly telling me how he would be happy to stop by in the Emirate city of Duba'i where I lived at the time, if only I could get a good party thing going. Miles apart, we’d kept our friendship alive chatting everyday on messenger and it's during that time that I also introduced Bryan to blogging and then a few days after opening his own blog at: www.bbukenya.blogspot.com, he'd IM'd me and asked, "but Zack, who ever reads that stuff?" I told him in reply, "Bryan, what can I say back? It's simply a blog... whoever wants can read." Blogging seemed to lose its appeal to him so he quit but I asked him not to delete the blog as I hoped it would serve some purpose in retracing his history once he had ‘made it up there’. In retrospect, I’m glad he acquiesced to my request now because it’s perhaps the only unadulterated cached memory of Bryan that we still have online. A few months later came the social networking hi5 revolution, and then Facebook following closely on its heels. Bryan wasn't one to be left behind. You could see him active at each site.

The other side of Bryan

Now this is my obituary to someone that I think I totally knew for more than 10 years of my life, someone I also called a close friend and shared many personal experiences with and so I don't care how or what some people may think of some of the things that I'm writing here. I believe I am entitled to an opinion and so I'm simply exercising that entitlement and the right to my free expression of speech.

To some people, it may seem that Bryan was a boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth but I wouldn't say that. In fact, I think that in many ways, Bryan went through the toughest circumstances and just made his own luck. Yes, self-made Bryan Bukenya. Of all the friends I've had, it's only Bryan that I know of who had to work so hard to get his father's attention in his life. I've seen some others in a similar situation simply give up and settle with eking out a living on their own. But Bryan was different. To someone seeing him from a distance Bryan carried himself erect and might have seemed to even exude power and solidity. Bryan did his utmost best to conceal his inner struggles, passing off as the kind of person who wouldn't be easily hurt, who rode all the blows that life dealt him, but closer inspection would reveal that beneath the mask he wore was great pain, there was a boy struggling to be accepted, to be called 'beloved' or even simply, 'son'. I remember once accompanying Bryan to this building where his father worked and we were made to sit for at least 3 hours before Bryan was eventually told that his father would not see him. Just like that. I could see the tears well up in his eyes and before he shed any, I quickly made to leave because I felt that then he needed some personal space at the time and my presence there while he portrayed his weak side not only invaded his privacy but also detracted from the macho-image that he'd worked so hard to build of himself in the public domain. But Bryan didn't give up. I later learnt that a few weeks later he had gone back and once again had gotten the same result. He kept on doing it until he got that appointment... with his father. Now I have heard some people say how one couldn't tell who Bryan's father was from talking to him but I hold a different opinion. Bryan loved his father dearly and he was almost the only one person that featured consistently in most of his conversations. More than anything, Bryan longed to be recognised by his father as a beloved son. To earn his father's love, Bryan humbled himself to do every chore at his father’s beck and call. Now, I don't mean to critic a father's style of bringing up his child and I think Bryan's humility to his father was quite exemplary but I think that at some point, it was a little too harsh for him. During his university years, Bryan would later became his father's closest confidant. What saddens me most is the fact that Bryan had only just started to enjoy this close relationship when his life was taken from him. And as he lay deprived of life in a green metallic casket, most of what he had been longing for the most part of his 26 years... love, public show of affection, suddenly came in plenty! I know that I hurt as a friend but I just cannot imagine the pain and sorrow of losing both a son and a friend that 'GB' (as Bryan referred to his father) and Bryan's mother must be in at this time. My heart goes out to them.

Fare thee well my good friend

The first time that I heard Bryan was gone, it all seemed so surreal. It's only now that typing out this obituary I am suddenly realising that there's not gonna be another Bryan on the other end of the line anymore. There's no more 'How are you, Boss?' or 'Chief, watagwan?' or 'Obulamu bugamba ki, dirham ne dollar ziriwa?' from him. No more of that!!! And it’s painful. Utterly painful. The pain starts as a thick lump in my throat as I wonder in amazement at why he had to be taken away from us so early. The pain gradually finds its way to my eyes, welling up tears that I didn't know I could still shed. The tears cloud my vision and then I have to take off my glasses and clear my eyes with the back of my hand to finish this. Only God knows if I will be able to read it again while holding myself together because it's in loving memory of someone I won't be seeing again. Oh, rest in peace Bryan. I miss you. We all miss you. Bryan Bukenya. 1983 - 2009. In loving memory.

Equal Access

Last month, I met a very interesting man whom I'll call 'Hal' for now. Hal communicated in a different language from mine or anyone else's in the room where we were. His was not an audible language and so someone had to interprete for all of us in the room what Hal was 'telling' us. You see, Hal was deaf and dumb. And because he couldn't hear us either, we had to get our messages across to him through the only other person in that room that 'spoke' his language, the 'sign language' interpreter. Hal 'told' us something that I reckon I shall remember for a very long time; he asked us to consider the fact that since we (the rest of us) couldn't communicate directly to him (and vice-versa), perhaps that was a disadvantage on our part and to reflect on the fact that at the time he was actually 'speaking', all the rest of us in that room could be considered to be 'temporarily disabled' until his interpreter 'enabled' us with the interpretation of what he had communicated through his signs.

And he was right. While Hal 'talked' with his hands and made facial gestures, all the rest of us in that room could have but only wondered what in the world could be going on. I had known before about sign-language but from our communication with Hal, one couldn't but marvel at his perceived eloquence even though the 'sign language'. This got me thinking about my own perception of disability and I was a little embarrassed at the fact that I had never seriously given much thought to disability and how it affects development in our world. Since my interaction with Hal I have tried to recall various interactions that I have had with people with disabilities. Sadly, the biggest number of these have been from my own country, Uganda -of course this could also be due to the fact that it is the one place that I have lived for longer than 10 years at a time. That notwithstanding, Uganda is also one of the poorest countries in the world and for the disabled people in Uganda that I have interacted with, the majority of them have been living under conditions of desperate poverty. Some of them because they could not tolerate it any longer transferred their misery to the streets where they stood a better chance of survival by making use of their (usually visible) disability to solicit sympathy and inadvertently a few coins from people that saw them and that cared to give.

According to UN estimates, there are more than 500 million disabled people in the world. Approximately 80% of this number live in low-income countries. Estimates vary from one nation to another but on average, disabled people account for between 4 - 10 % of the population. These numbers are however on the increase with every new day because of such precipitating factors as: violent conflict, accidents, HIV/AIDS, environmental pollution and ageing populations.

Now I have met disabled people in almost every other country that I may have been to but like I said before, never on the scale as Uganda's. Disabled people are a part of every community, everywhere in the world. However, in the developing world, disabled people are also among the poorest and most marginalised people. Quite ironically, disabled people have the least access to public services, which exacerbates their isolated condition by stigmatising them, and/or denying them the opportunity to participate in policy-making processes within their communities and consequently keeps them in poverty.

Poverty is not only about low income. It is also about limited opportunities, choices and social exclusion. When people are denied opportunities for economic, social and human development because of a disability, it feeds the vicious cycle of poverty by creating a negative imbalance in the attainment of their human rights through decreased participation in their communities, which makes them the more vulnerable to poverty and/or ill health.

Now, I am sure that disabled people do not expect more or better facilities than other people. Only to be included. So they too, can have equal access. For the majority of disabled people in low-income communities, their human rights to life, food, water and shelter are a daily struggle. The only way they will access these basic needs and rights is through inclusion in the mainstream services and programmes. Today I thought about back home and of all of the construction projects that are going on all over the country -from the sprawling shopping malls in Kampala... to the water projects in Bukedi... to the northern Uganda reconstruction programme in most of Gulu et al- and I wondered about the plight of the disabled people and whether their needs were being seriously considered in the planning of those vital public services, so that they are accessible even to people with disabilities. I know, 'Equal Access' can be a hard nut to crack. But we've gotta start somewhere.

In writing this particular blog, I thought I would appeal to each of you reading here to reflect on your own perceptions of disability -Uganda could be any other country for you- and how in your own life, with your own means, you can make a difference today by improving accessibility for people with disability and other special needs. In my last blog here, I talked about Millennium Development Goals. One other thing that is resoundingly clear about the attainment of MDG # 4 - poverty reduction - is that unless poverty reduction/eradication measures are made disability conscious, this particular MDG will not be equitably met. And on an economic perspective, the cost of excluding disabled people in a development programme far outweighs the cost of including them. Make a difference today! Alutta continua...


Other useful links on disability as a poverty issue:

United Nations: Disability Statistics

UNICEF: Child Disability, Statistical Tables

Identifying Disability Issues in Poverty Reduction

MDGs: an attitudinal change for conflict areas

At the dawn of the 21st century and new millennium, 2000, while at the United Nations Millennium Summit, 189 nations pledged to end the conditions and precipitating factors of poverty that people world-over face. The representatives of these nations defined a number of targets and indicators to mark progress and set a time-line. By 2015, everything from universal access to primary education to reversing the spread of HIV/AIDS should be accomplished according to that pledge. Together the United Nations at that summit referred to these targets as the 8 Millennium Development Goals, MDGs.

Periodically, each of the governments of the 189 nations is supposed to present a candid report of progress made towards the attainment of the 8 MDGs. In the preamble to the MDG declaration, a part of the phrase read: “...(to) free men, women, and children from the abject and dehumanizing conditions of extreme poverty.” Living in extreme poverty means living from hand to mouth, without any comfort or confidence in the availability of the fundamental elements that ensure human survival. Poverty, especially in Africa is also inextricably linked to conflicts and political instability -conditions which make an easy solution equally difficult to achieve.

Today, my heart goes out to the hundreds of thousands of people displaced by wars and strife all over Africa -Darfur in western Sudan, eastern Congo, northern Uganda and more recently north-eastern Congo and areas of the southern Sudan, to mention but a few. For this group of people, the continued strife remains a major hindrance to poverty reduction and ultimately human development as income is continually lost out through abandonment of economic activities -farming for one that represents a nearly 70% contribution to national economies in most African countries south of the Sahara- in some cases estimated to the tune of billions of U.S. dollars.

While the implementing governments seek to appease their respective MDG-programme donors this year with politicised statistics of progress made towards the attainment of the 8 MDGs, we should also seek to ask the question, are the MDGs any relevant to the millions of human lives living in 'conflict areas' - where the population of AK-47s, machetes, and axes seems to double that of the population- a sore-thumb still among many of the participating developing nations? Given that without a sustainable resolution of these conflicts, the plight of the majority of the population remains in a precarious state and this reduces the chances of any of the MDGs being realised effectively! In my opinion, there shouldn't exist even a semblance of a dichotomy between conflict resolution in war-ravaged areas and the implementation of the MDGs, because the success of the latter is also strongly hinged on the realisation of the former.

If we continue to ignore this glaring fact, we as participating nations in the MDG-framework shall continue to put our countries off target for meeting the MDGs, especially on 'elimination of poverty' and who knows, regional imbalance may even get worse! My plea is that we all take appropriate action. Alluta continua...

Storm's Eye

In less than a week from now, we shall be marking the 20th anniversary of the international annual World AIDS Day -1st December- a day when people from around the world that are passionate about fighting HIV/AIDS come together within a single effort to focus on global shared action and raise public awareness on specific issues related to HIV and AIDS. Some of the issues that will be raised on 1st December include the continued importance of fighting stigma and discrimination due to HIV and the disproportionate impact of AIDS on women and girls. The fight against AIDS is over twenty five years old and although some people choose to deny it, while others unabashedly ignore it; the AIDS epidemic is a global emergency that affects people in every country on this earth. That some of us would choose to hide our heads in the sand over such a matter is more than simply shameful. It is tragic. As we mark this 20th anniversary, will you stop to ponder for a moment on how your own actions have affected the global fight against HIV/AIDS. What are you doing to stop HIV/AIDS? This year's campaign theme from the World AIDS Campaign is LEAD-EMPOWER-DELIVER. Choose your pick, do something about HIV/AIDS today!

And before I sign off, I thought I'd bring this matter to light. It's a news article I just culled from IRN PlusNews about the on-going humanitarian crisis in the Democratic Republic of Congo. A classic case of 'between a rock and a hard place'. As you mark World AIDS Day next Monday, please say a prayer for the people of the Congo!

IRN PlusNews
18/11/2008
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Violence in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) has forced thousands of people to flee across the border into neighbouring countries, but relief workers in Uganda admit that HIV is low on the list of priorities.

"[NGOs] are prioritising water, sanitation, basic health; they are doing a broad intervention," said Innocent Asiimwe, a repatriation officer at the United Nations refugee agency, UNHCR. "They might do immunisations next week, but until that's sorted, they won't have time for HIV. We need a health partner to target HIV on the ground."

So far, no refugees have asked for antiretroviral (ARV) drugs or Septrin - an antibiotic commonly prescribed to avoid opportunistic infections associated with HIV - and it was unlikely they would do so unless there was an organisation specifically sensitising the community to HIV, he said. According to UNHCR, the violence in eastern DRC has displaced an estimated 250,000 people. About 12,000 have crossed into Uganda, with around 7,000 passing through the transit site at Ishasha, near the border of DRC's North Kivu Province. Although some returned to DRC after only a few days, others have gone to a permanent refugee settlement area in western Uganda called Nakivale.

There are approximately 4,000 refugees in Ishasha, but the transit site is not equipped to provide such a large influx of people with water, sanitation, food, condoms, and health care. There are only three latrines for this large population, and no garbage
disposal pit or system, but Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF), the international medical charity, is building a water-filtering system.

"[The need for] sanitation is immediate, but health care is needed in the long term. We need a more permanent intervention because people will keep coming," Steven Sebudda, the district health official at Ishasha, told IRIN/PlusNews.

"The population is at risk of HIV, but it is not useful to do VCT [voluntary counselling and testing] if we can't provide condoms or medicine afterwards, and we can't provide condoms until there is somewhere to dispose of them." He feared that small children would get hold of used condoms and play with them or use them as water containers, creating a huge public health risk. UNHCR is encouraging the refugees at Ishasha to go to Nakivale, where there are well-stocked health centres, plenty of medication, and trained counsellors and doctors who can assist people living with HIV. The Inter Agency Standing Committee - a mechanism for coordinating humanitarian assistance by key UN and non-UN partners - notes in its guidelines on HIV interventions in emergency settings that it is crucial to incorporate HIV into the overall emergency response.

The guidelines state: "If not addressed, the impacts of HIV/AIDS will persist and expand beyond the crisis event itself, influencing the outcome of the response and shaping future prospects for rehabilitation and recovery."

Right against poverty

Today bloggers around the world stand up to be counted as they unite to blog against poverty. As a joined up campaign member, I am dedicating this blog post today towards the global campaign to end conditions of dehumanising poverty around the world. I also dedicate this post to all the men and women around the world that have dedicated -small/big/entire portions of- their lives to this fight.

Whereas recognition of the inherent dignity and of the equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world,
Whereas disregard and contempt for human rights have resulted in barbarous acts which have outraged the conscience of mankind, and the advent of a world in which human beings shall enjoy freedom of speech and belief and freedom from fear and want has been proclaimed as the highest aspiration of the common people,
Whereas it is essential, if man is not to be compelled to have recourse, as a last resort, to rebellion against tyranny and oppression, that human rights should be protected by the rule of law,
Whereas the peoples of the United Nations have in the Charter reaffirmed their faith in fundamental human rights, in the dignity and worth of the human person and in the equal rights of men and women and have determined to promote social progress and better standards of life in larger freedom,
Whereas Member States have pledged themselves to achieve, in cooperation with the United Nations, the promotion of universal respect for and observance of human rights and fundamental freedoms, Whereas a common understanding of these rights and freedoms is of the greatest importance for the full realization of this pledge,

Now, therefore, The General Assembly, Proclaims this Universal Declaration of Human Rights as a common standard of achievement for all peoples and all nations, to the end that every individual and every organ of society, keeping this Declaration constantly in mind, shall strive by teaching and education to promote respect for these rights and freedoms and by progressive measures, national and international, to secure their universal and effective recognition and
observance, both among the peoples of Member States themselves and among the peoples of territories under their jurisdiction.

I believe that it is the right of every man/woman to live in their full dignity -a life free from the conditions of poverty. The bigger question is: does everyone else share this opinion? Once we are beyond this stage, then perhaps we can pose the next question: How do we go about lobbying the world body that prepared this beautiful preamble (see below) to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights to also declare the universal right of every human being to live a life free of all conditions of dehumanising poverty?
Do something against dehumanising poverty today!

"You can never win a war against terror as long as there are conditions in the world that make people desperate -- poverty, disease, ignorance, etcetera," -Archbishop Desmond Tutu

http://blogactionday.org/js/7c5838a6c5f182e005b3bcb4906dc2c44990ae51

Medicus curat natura sanat

(The doctor treats, the nature cures)

The day before yesterday, October 9th, the Republic of Uganda celebrated its 46th Independence anniversary. Ugandan Independence day to me brings connotations of such things as the Uganda Argus, jolly king Freddie, the legendary Elly Wamala and his music, Apollo Milton and his chauffeured Rolls Royce, the National theatre, Warrant Officer II Idi Amin (also the first of the only two decorated Ugandan military officers at the time), club Susana and Nakasero market filled with a new rising Ugandan middle-class society doing their shopping on a Saturday morning. And I wasn't yet born at the time. These are all images however, that I have come to associate with this event only over the time. Of course the picture is incomplete without 'the marching men in green' and oh, "the sankalewa (did I spell that right?) dancers"! One of my friends, aptly named "Uhuru" (kiswahili for independence) also celebrates his 46th birthday on this day. Heri za siku ya kuzaliwa rafiki! And Happy Birthday Uganda! Tunakupenda sana! I was on my way to an interment the day before Independence Day when I totally lost my way and had to solicit the help of school boys on their way back home to point me into the right direction. They obviously looked excited when I offered them a ride in return for their routing. As we negotiated the hills and bends along the way, we talked about their UPE school and I was surprised to find out what 'a typical day in the life of a Ugandan UPE student' seems like. My 'navigators' told me that they actually spend a larger chunk of their mornings playing (and fighting) before their 'school-master' allocates to them a boy/girl in an upper class to teach them. The reason for this, I was told, was teacher absenteeism. I was then reminded of Millennium Development Goal (MDG) # 2: achievement of universal primary education, and probably how of little consequence the Ugandan UPE might be for these little children's development. Without negating the Government's impressive progress towards achieving universal primary education in Uganda, I think it is worth mentioning that the policy is fraught with a number of challenges, like this one highlighted, that are counteracting its efficacy. And when that is said, it's worth our commitment to take responsive action!

I was prompted to blog this today when I came across this selection of children's quotes in a (UgandaDebtNetwork) report that I have been reviewing today. I thought they (the quotes) might perhaps put this UPE issue better into context:

“There is a problem of shortages: shortage of textbooks, shortage of pens, shortage of chalk and shortage of balls with which to play. There is even shortage of teachers. Why can’t government do something about these shortages?”

“I take no breakfast at home. I get nothing at school. When it is lunch time, teachers go home to eat and tell us to play. Can you imagine spending a whole day without eating anything?”

“We have classes under trees. We are either beaten by the sun, rain or distracted by passing people, bicycles and occasionally cars”. “Because we don’t have enough desks, we sit in the dust and end up making our uniforms dirty. When we get home parents beat us because it is expensive to buy soap to wash our dirty uniforms more frequently than is necessary”.

Which brings us back to the blog title and inexorably begs the question, are we only washing to hang in the dirt again? To throw all caution to the wind???

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On a more personal note, this is to my dear friends that lost a loved one recently. It is something that I wanna share with you that my own father oft said to me when I was a little kid growing up (I hope you find some solace in the words and e'en still our prayers are with you):

"The days in our lives may not all be bright and fair, but the same life holds both sunshine and showers. When we look hard enough through the showers, there'll be a rainbow close by. And you'll always find hope shining there."

Alluta continua...

African solutions to African problems?

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On being the change that I want to see...

As I reflect on the recently ended XVII International AIDS Conference in Mexico city, I am overcome with emotion to, in the famous words of Mahatma Gandhi, "be the change that I want to see in this world". This December I shall mark exactly 5 years since I got myself involved in the global fight against HIV/AIDS as a campaigner for both HIV/AIDS Awareness and Behavioural change as well as a proponent for the psychosocial support of individuals affected by HIV/AIDS. Again this December, together with Cheri (then) and a few others, it shall be two years since we resolved to wear the Red Ribbon proudly as proponents of the fight - and also began the GLOBAL BLOG campaign to challenge our peers to 'wear a red ribbon today' as a tangible testament of the continuing battle - against HIV/AIDS. In the words of (deceased) AIDS activist Debbie Hood Johnson, "HIV/AIDS is 100% FATAL but it is also 100% PREVENTABLE". By wearing a red ribbon, we show our solidarity with individuals that are living positively with HIV and we are also reminded to mainstream HIV/AIDS in everything that we do.

The Mexico conference presented an opportunity to be among passionate young & old activists, renowned researchers, and those living positively with HIV. In addition, the lessons that I learned from the youth activists as part of the YouthForce Mexico team will not soon be forgotten. I might be (almost) 5 years old as a proponent in the fight against HIV/AIDS but that does not mean that I know everything there is about HIV/AIDS. Matter-of-factly it is only by attending such fora as this one (IAC 2008) and others that we seek to know and learn more and then at the end draw up strategies on how we can together seek to redress the common challenge that is AIDS, even in very small ways!

Somewhere in the photo exhibition stalls was this collection from the last held AIDS conference in Toronto. It was by a little child and in one picture it had what appeared to be a table, in another a clock, and in another a refrigerator. Under each of those pictures the captions read: 'my father's table'; 'my father's clock', and 'my father's refrigerator'; . At the bottom of the photos, it simply had written: "missing my Dad". At that moment, even I was moved to tears! There was a glaring (in your face, if you like) AIDS statistic with a very human face to it. Suddenly it dawned on me that for all the seminars and workshops and a myriad other educational opportunities that I have had chance to attend about HIV/AIDS, none of them actually amounted to the understanding on HIV/AIDS that I had received that day in that instant as I looked at the little child's photos. Someone once said, "there is power in art", and another that 'silences make the real conversation between friends -not the saying, but the never needing to say is what counts!". Go on and take a silent moment with art, maybe you can learn something new, like I did.

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It is sad to note however, that in some countries (and territories), the legislation still denies the entry, stay or residence of HIV-positive people because of their
HIV status only. Such legislation is very discriminatory! The consequences of these travel restrictions were made even more clear during the conference plenaries. A few people shared their own experiences of how such restrictions had affected their personal lives.

Fact from the International AIDS Conference 2008:
As of 2008, it appears that 67 countries still impose some form of restriction on the entry, stay and residence of people living with HIV. Some 9 countries bar entry of all people living with HIV based on their HIV positive status only; with an additional 5 countries denying visas for even short-term stays. Thirty countries deport individuals once their HIV infection is discovered. Ninety-six countries have no HIV-specific restrictions on entry, stay or residence. For 21 countries, the information is contradictory; and for 12 countries there is no available information.

I shall share with you in a subsequent post at the group blog:Wear a Red Ribbon Today! how even you reading this can participate in the advocacy initiative to help eliminate HIV-related restrictions on entry, stay and residence in the listed countries!

Fortunately, American President George W. Bush signed into legislation the bill (now law) repealing the travel restrictions placed on HIV-positive individuals visiting or immigrating into the United States. During one session at the conference, California Congresswoman Barbara Lee shared the process that concluded in this repeal. Somewhere towards the end of the session the conversation was brought back around to other human rights areas where the United States is lacking. One lady approached the microphone to congratulate Ms. Barbara Lee on her role in repealing the travel restrictions, but also to say that she would not personally attend an AIDS conference in the United States until an official apology was issued for all the human rights abuses that the United States commits in other countries. Although using the session on travel restrictions against HIV-positive individuals as a platform for chiding the US over the Iraq-issue, or as she put it "marching into other countries in the name of democracy", seemed slightly inappropriate, one could say it is a part of what the conference is about. Congratulating and celebrating to encourage progress, along with questioning and criticizing to show that we have not forgotten what remains to be addressed.

On a significant development for Africa, at the end of the Mexico conference, Ugandan Dr. Elly Katabira was elected next president of the International AIDS Society. He shall be the first African representative to hold the position when he assumes office in Vienna, Austria in 2010.

"Six decades after the [Universal Declaration of Human Rights] was adopted, it is shocking that there should still be discrimination against those at high risk, such stigma attached to individuals living with HIV. This not only drives the virus underground, where it can spread in the dark; as important, it is an affront to our common humanity... I call for a change in laws that uphold stigma and discrimination – including restrictions on travel for people living with HIV (emphasis added)."
-Ban Ki-Moon, United Nations Secretary-General, at the United Nations High Level Meeting on AIDS, June 2008

Alluta continua (the struggle continues)...

And as a final note, I thought I would share these statistics with you (taken from: Global Database on HIV-related Travel Restrictions):

Countries/territories/areas that appear to have a complete ban on the entry of all HIV positive people: Brunei, China, Oman, Qatar, Republic of Korea (South Korea), Sudan, United Arab Emirates, United States of America (until recently) and Yemen.

Countries/territories/areas that deny applications for entry by HIV positive people for stays beginning as short as ten days up to 90 days: Egypt, Iraq, Singapore, Tunisia, Turks and Caicos Islands.

Countries/territories/areas that deport foreigners once they are discovered to be HIV positive: Armenia, Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (North Korea), Jordan, Bahrain, Republic of Korea (South Korea), Bangladesh, Kuwait, Sudan, Brunei, Malaysia, Bulgaria, Moldova, Mongolia, Tajikistan, China, Taiwan, Egypt, Oman, United Arab Emirates, Hungary, Qatar, United States of America (until recently), Iraq, Russian Federation, Singapore, Sri Lanka, Syria, Uzbekistan, Saudi Arabia, and Yemen.

? is the Love @

It has been an interesting couple of weeks that I've had. I wanna mention my gratitude to everyone that's been a part of the joy and fulfilment during each of the past 14 days. Thank you. Life is certainly such a story -of course you miss the beauty of it when you are so caught up in your own little world trying to make it better, losing out on the details in the bigger world picture. I am not the most important thing in the world; you are! Sometime ago I was discussing this with one of my close friends: who is more important? you or the other person. Later I figures that one can only be in a good position to answer that question when they 'die to self'. Only then can one begin to realise the true meaning behind such words as -'LOVE', 'FRIEND' and 'NEIGHBOUR'. Archbishop Desmond Tutu captures it best in his definition of the African humanist philosophy, Ubuntu: I AM BECAUSE YOU ARE!

"A person with Ubuntu is open and available to others, affirming of others, does not feel threatened that others are able and good, for he or she has a proper self-assurance that comes from knowing that he or she belongs in a greater whole and is diminished when others are humiliated or diminished, when others are tortured or oppressed." -Archbishop Desmond Tutu

Shall we all say that together again: U-B-U-N-T-U -the African concept of loving your neighbour. Who knows, that could be all the difference we need in this world! One wise person said once that you begin to get wiser when you realise you actually didn't know very much. If we knew any better, we would be advocating for our children to learn the simple notions of Ubuntu right from day one at school.

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Last week I encountered an animal back home that I'd never before seen in my life -it looked a little like a raccoon except its snout was much rounder and its tail longer. It moved with extreme caution and calculated dexterity. When I came eye-to-eye with it, we both froze instantly -it possibly because it wasn't expecting a stranger in its path; and me because I had never seen the little thing in my life. I had heard stories of stubborn little creatures that could bite through the girth of a 5-tonne truck because it obstructed their way. And I also once saw an angry colourful salamander chase a fully-grown man down a tree and pursue him to a cabin house on an Indian ocean island. With this little animal, I didn't know what to expect. I was in its way because I was trying to get a nice photo-shot of a rare species of butterfly (I take nature photographs for a hobby) that I had followed into an overgrowth. The little animal shook its head and made some sounds with its teeth then disappeared back from where it had come. I thought it was over until a few moments later, still transfixed in my spot, because I was awaiting 'my butterfly' to settle down onto the flora before I could take my shot; the little animal returned with a whole army of similar looking creatures in line behind it and they all marched past me -each one stopping only just a metre short of where I was, for what seemed like a fraction of a second, to make the same sounds with their teeth that the first had made on our previous encounter- until they all disappeared into another nearby thicket. As the last one went by, I thought I'd return the gesture and make a few sounds with my own teeth, but I only managed a poor imitation of whatever it was that they had uttered. 'When in Rome after all...' I was fascinated at how extremely sociable the little animals seemed -among their species and also at what I considered their stopping to acknowledge mankind with their -however annoying- sounds. So I thought about our own species and then it hit me that quite increasingly, we (mankind) fail to do that even for ourselves. It's every (wo)man for themselves most of the time.

Today when I reflected upon that episode again, I fancied to believe that perhaps the little animal upon our previous encounter had respectfully gone back to bring with him his whole family to say 'hello' to the 'representative of mankind' that had suddenly appeared in their habitat. Of course he could have just been scouting the territory too before he called out the 'all clear' signal so that his colleagues could pass but I'd love to go with the former perception -it's more appeasing to the mind. I guess the moral of that strange encounter with an animal of the wild for me, was: are we (mankind)really the most social beings on this earth? And if we aren't, what are we doing about it?

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The XVIIth International HIV/AIDS Conference is on now here in Mexico city. The sessions are more than just interesting! Incidentally this is also the biggest global gathering of HIV experts from all walks of life: doctors, researchers, advocates, development workers and people living with HIV. What are you doing to fight HIV/AIDS in your community? A group of fellow bloggers and I are doing our bit here as we wear our red ribbons proudly. Check it out and see how you can add some value to what's being done already. See you guys later.

Sweet sound

There's probably no sound as sweet as that of many voices praying, yes, even silently to God. Lately, I have had chance to sit down and listen even to the wind talk -I know that might probably sound a little crazy but that's how close I can get to writing about my "listening" experience. Getting back to the praying voices, it is as though the sound of a great waterfall -the rushing of many waters! Today I had about four little children -the eldest could have been 6 or 7- gather around and pray for me. Again, there was nothing as beautiful as the sounds that emanated from the four pairs of lips. It is oft said that little children, when they put their trust in someone, it is usually for the long haul. Perhaps you've already heard the one about the little girl who believed her Dad was the strongest man in the world or of the little boy who believed his father was the fastest driver on the road. As my four little friends did their laying-on-of-hands, eyes closed, and each one muttering their own words, I couldn't help to wonder at how awesome the Living God is, that even such little ones could attest to His greatness! Glorifying!

A couple of nights ago, I was at this house and one of the little girls there who should be only 2 and a half years old I was told was being bade goodnight when her mother said to her, "God loves you". I guess it should have been such a recurring experience for the little girl, her mother speaking to her that way each night, so this time she asked back, "Where is God?". "God is everywhere", her mother replied to her. "O.k. so you can go now since God is everywhere", she told her mother back. We all had a laugh when the mother recounted their experience to us as she joined us again in the parlour. And then I got thinking, that little girl simply believed what her mother told her. She trusted her mother. Why does that whole 'trust-thing' become increasingly difficult for us when we get older?

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On another note I would like to say my piece about "peace-keeper predators". A recent report from Save the Children -U.K. shows that U.N. peacekeepers and aid workers from more than a dozen organisations have sexually abused refugee children -even as young as 6- in the Sudan, Cote-d'Ivoire and Haiti. Many of these incidents had gone unreported or the culprits unpunished. Which begs the question, what does one do when the very organs vested with the authority and power to guard them from human rights abuse instead turn back on them and exploit them... perhaps even more than what they were supposed to protect them from. Should the hunter now become the hunted? I'm sure it's only a case of a few bad apples but surely Secretary General, Ban ki Moon should see to cleaning up this mess. God help us all.