A part of the mission of Iona’s Home includes a commitment to providing the homeless children of Uganda with proper shelter and medical care. Thus, Iona’s Home wishes to offer a special thank you to friends and supporters who decided to personally contribute to the cause of reducing exposure of Ugandan children to the malaria virus by raising funds and purchasing, sewing, and hemming fabric into mosquito nets to hang over the beds of children in Uganda and help protect them during the vulnerable times when mosquitoes are most likely to bite.  As of now, twenty-two nets have been made and have either made it to Uganda or are being prepared to ship!

Please browse the photos below to catch a glimpse of some of our supporters in action!

While at home our kids celebrate snow days and await an eager summer vacation, these children are desperate to attend. They’ll find an old uniform, worn and torn, sometimes literally falling so apart that it has to be manually held on or closed, and diligently care for it, washing it carefully so it lasts a year, or just the next term please. Even knowing they’ll be “chased” from school, they’ll get dressed, go to school, and diligently study until they are forcibly removed.

Fees vary by school, sometimes charging as little as $4/term (2 terms a year), but a UPE school still requires a school uniform, school supplies (like brooms, toilet paper, soap, etc), and personal supplies (paper, notebooks (“exercise books”), pencils, pens, etc). When a woman is scrounging fields for food to feed the children in her care, the supplies alone are outside the reach of her ‘income’.

Not attending primary school truly dooms you to a lack of formal education for life. The exams required after 7th grade are necessary to attend secondary (high) school. Exam results, if you’re allowed to take them, won’t be released until you pay the full fees and have purchased the required supplies. No elementary school fees = no secondary school. No secondary school = no university.

There are some schools in the south of the country I’m connected to that may agree to take on a few children at no cost. The north though is a distinct culture and language. It’d be like taking an American child, raised in an English-speaking home, and sending them to Russia to learn in Spanish schools. The Russian teachers would teach formal lessons in Spanish, and explain in Russian when the classmates were clearly misunderstanding. A child speaks a Luo-derived dialect amongst the Acholi people, but is sent to Baganda in southern Uganda, to be taught in English, with explanations in the Luganda-language when needed. They’d be severed from culture, language, food, everything that connects them to their true homeland, to what little family they have. Its personally hard for me to justify a long-term and extensive program that does this after the disintegration caused by a 20 year “civil war” in the north. Having survived that, you’ll now be sent away.

Establishing a sponsorship program can be difficult for many reasons though, not just the cultural concerns. Determining and communicating family relationships, indirect and direct costs, and setting appropriate community expectations, are all unimagined difficulties. And there’s one that I stay my hand in telling, because it shows my shallow character.

One difficulty is establishing current familial relationships. Who cares for the child currently? You’ll often be told a brother, an uncle, an aunt. This though is said amongst a people that believe it a disgrace to leave a child on the streets. During the civil war, it was a necessary tragedy, with all just desperate for safety and survival. Now, it could be that you see a child and know you have some connection. It could be that your cousin married a woman whose sister had 4 children. Your cousin and wife died and no one knows what has happened to the cousin’s wife’s sister. When you see the 4 children on the street, despite your income of 6,000USh (US$3) a day not allowing you to send your 3 children to school, your recognition of a connection means you’re responsible. It would be abhorrent to leave them there. So, as “uncle”, you take them, and others, in to share what food, what home you have. When a foreigner such as I asks about the family relationship, you’ll explain that you’re caring for your brother’s children. This is an accurate description amongst the Acholi people, where ‘cousin’ is most accurately translated to ‘brother’ in English, and where a connection by marriage means a true joining of families and not as in America, with an “in-law” separation dividing us. Indicating to an American audience that you’re truly sponsoring a street child is difficult when everyone is caring for their ‘nephews’ and ‘nieces’.

Determining cost can be another factor. Iona’s home reduces overhead significantly. My trip here is funded entirely by me, with some donated supplies that I pass on. All administrative costs have been funded by the Board, both in the US and Uganda. We’re asking our Sponsorship Program Director to work from home, because an office is the equivalent of sending 10 children to school. His supplies have been donated or purchased by the Board.

But, what about the direct schooling costs?

A) The exchange rate changes daily, so if I quote an exact figure of $22.30/term, it might be $22.90 tomorrow.

B) Guardians, so used to struggling for fees on a term-by-term basis, and thinking only of the stress-inducing upcoming fee, strain to explain total annual costs. When you ask the school directly, they’ll tell you the fee, but omit the exam fees and the required supplies (assuming you know that a broom or toilet paper would be required). Inevitably some odd cost is forgotten- like 3 rolls of toilet paper are required the 1st term instead of the normal 2- despite assurances that every possible cost has been accounted for in a total given. Or, the cost of that broom might change.

C) The uniform is always a question. Many of these children wear the same uniform each day. It can be truly threadbare, where you can see their skin not just through the obvious tears, but through the thin fabric itself, but is acceptable to the school. Do we ask a sponsor to buy another? We say yes, to preserve the children’s dignity. Now they have 1 good uniform where many have 1 poor uniform. Do we ask a sponsor to purchase a second uniform so that the child can actually wash one set while they wear another? It may seem an obvious ‘yes’, but what if the cost of that 2nd uniform could pay the school fees for another child?

In the end, all these small factors make a difference and change the overall cost. When in doubt, we’ve chosen to round up, to ensure the costs can be covered. We can account for each cost once spent and each sponsor can see what their money was exactly spent on.

Another difficulty in establishing a sponsorship program in the north is the expectation of the community. In Gulu Town, you’ll find almost every discernible international NGO dealing with conflict resolution or children has established an outpost. And let’s say reducing overhead is not their biggest concern. Guardians will ask “Where is the official office?” as you meet in a hotel’s donated-through-contacts conference room. They’ll also ask about the Counselor, the Mentor, the Administrator, the Coordinator, and almost any other official position imaginable. Then they’ll begin to ask about all the additional services- medical costs, food costs, housing costs, etc. So many nod their heads in agreement when you explain that there have been many, many international NGOs who come and spend all their money in one term and are unable to support the children long-term. They close up that office and fire the Mentor, the Counselor, the Administrator, etc, after only a few months. We explain that we’re here to support these children long-term. Our focus now is on school sponsorships. We’ll build, sustainably, for the long-term and expand services slowly and when/if its right.

I’ve hesitated to state a final difficulty though, because it reflects so poorly on me. When they know you’re coming, when you’ve asked to meet them, the children and family dress in their finest. They may even borrow clothes. At first glance, you think “These children look too good.” Would it disgust you to know that some part of me wants them to return home and dress as they normally do? “Oh, no,” I think, “they’re wearing their best clothes, included borrowed shoes!” Walking around barefoot in a stained, torn, and limp dress near a burning pile of trash would truly indicate the need for sponsorship. Does some part of my heart wish they’d reduce their dignity, their pride, so that the need could be shown more thoroughly back home? Do I want to walk to the villages and surprise them at home, to take and publish the candid shot? Did I wish some children would turn a certain way or sit a certain way to show the true state of even these “best” clothes? Shamefully, yes. With, I fear, only circumstance and guilt stopping me more than altruism, love, and trust. Please forgive me for this, because right now I’m not sure I can forgive myself.

We’ve established a sister foundation in Uganda, Iona’s Home Foundation. We have double financial accountability and management oversight, as we work under both the laws of the US and Uganda. We also have no salaried overhead- every donation goes direct to needs. And our big news is we’ve hired our first employee! When I say “employee”, I truly mean committed, accountable, and formalized expert volunteer, as I’ll explain.

James Latigo Ojera is our new Sponsorship Program Director! Very exciting!

Almost nothing is as it seems on the surface in Uganda, so you do the research, speak to multiple people, and you go slowly if you want to ensure things are well done. And I’m happy with our efforts. We explicitly stated we wanted someone with the following skills/abilities/education:

Detailed-oriented
Highly organized
Fluent in English and Acholi
Personable
Self-guided and proactive
Honest, with remarkable integrity
Social Work
Experience in Gulu
Computer: E-mail, Word Processing, Spreadsheets
Financial Tracking
Communicating Across Diverse Audiences

Gulu is a relatively small social community. Everyone has 1-2 degrees of separation. Through varied contacts, who didn’t know others were working upon it as well, we asked for recommendations and received the same name through different sources. When I told Christine Oryang, our Board President in America and a native Ugandan, James Ojera had been recommended by multiple people, she said, “Oh, I thought of James too!” Wow.

James, Stella (a mutual contact), and I met at Daddy’s home (my Ugandan family’s home where I now stay when in Kampala) for several hours one Saturday. Daddy was present and, given his advanced age and community status, served as our “elder” to instruct, guide, and mentor this decision. Although clearly using neutral language, I now know daddy enough to know he felt James was perfect for the task. We ate lunch, talked life, daddy provided subtle advice in the form of stories about the history of the community, and I then provided a job description to everyone present, copied at the end of this News Report for your benefit.

A capstone to this interview and discussion came after James reviewed the duties. “I’ve already been doing this.” He’s been doing just about the exact same things for two different people who started their own personal sponsorship programs. As he mentioned, they’re not formalized as Iona’s Home and have not outlined the specifics as we have, but over time they’ve each come to mutual agreement about, basically, these same standards. Its one of those moments where everything comes together so perfectly; the right person at the right time for the right job.

James had one concern. He wanted to be certain we were “bringing along the next generation”. That is, he wants to do the work with a younger companion, someone now being educated at university for example, who could use the experience and, perhaps, eventually become involved in supporting us long term as well. James has refused payment, as he says his current paid work provides sufficient for his needs and he wants to support our work in Gulu, knowing by our methods and contacts, that we know the community and were committed to the long term. Of course, I provided all basic supplies (e.g., ledger, pens, file folders, etc.) so the work won’t cost him money to begin. And we set a meeting in Gulu later this month to meet each of the children, along with our Foundation President here in Uganda, Charles (whom I described in an earlier post). Frankly, we likely will provide some token income to James, but the Board is committed to funding it ourselves as opposed to using donations we receive from others.

This is a true victory.

We have hired someone experienced, accountable, known, and committed to oversee the day-to-day sponsorship program work and ensure it moves forward appropriately and with great confidence. This is a flashpoint moment for Iona’s Home and the beginning of much to come. Get the right people and the work progresses

James is the right person.

I’m so grateful to all those who help, who respond to my e-mails and blog postings with “How can I help?” and who feel the love of this great and needed work. Sometimes, I just need to stand back and watch compassion fly. Educating a child here can cost so little. Can $50 change the course of someone’s life? It can. It does. From hopeless to hopeful, with soaring dreams and desires to help their fellow man in turn, and I’m privileged to be here, seeing it in person. I’m excited for the future and so glad to know that we’re setting things in place from the start that ensure we’ll be here for these children for a lifetime to come.

For details on the tasks James is taking on, read below.

Duties
Maintenance of Current Sponsorships
Send individual quarterly reports to sponsors to include:

• All current costs and receipts associated with education of the specific child (uniform, fees, etc.)
• Updated pictures of the child (one natural and one posed)
• Most up-to-date school performance reports (grades/report card)
• Personal note from student that includes personal details such as stories, likes/dislikes, future plans, etc, to build a relationship with the sponsor
• A brief assessment of the child’s performance from you (e.g., “Stephen has improved in math due to his hard work in a new tutoring class. Being gone for 5 days with malaria hurt his performance in Science as a test was administered during that time. He was comforted that he would not lose his sponsorship during that time.”
• A note of gratitude from Iona’s Home to the sponsor, explaining their direct and positive impact
• Send compiled individual quarterly reports to Iona’s Home Foundation (Uganda) and Iona’s Home, Inc (USA, e-mail report)

Maintain Payment & Income Records

• Obtain receipts at time-of-payment for all sponsored costs (uniform purchase, payment of school fees, school supplies, etc.)
• Maintain hand-written and computer-tracked income and costs by child, sponsor, administrative, and total (overall).
• Compile quarterly reports of income and expenditures and send to Iona’s Home Foundation and Iona’s Home, Inc.

Meet with child quarterly to discuss performance and determine impact of sponsorship. Celebrate achievements and formulate plans for improvement. Update child’s file records with your assessment.

Meet with child’s family quarterly to determine impact of child’s sponsorship. Update child’s file records with your assessment.

Compile and send to Boards Annual Assessment Reports based on meetings with child and families.

Place sponsorship on probation if child’s school performance decreases notably (except where it is out of the control of the child- such as serious illness), if impact of sponsorship on child or family is negative, if child refuses to provide personal statements for individual quarterly reports, or if Iona’s Home’s requirements can no longer be met (e.g., inability to obtain receipts from school, etc).

Identify Potential Sponsorship Opportunities
Identify possible children to sponsor based on the following criteria:

• Primary-school sponsorships
• Total or partial orphan
• Child unable to attend school currently based on fees
• Diversity of children in sponsorship program based on criteria such as: Gender/Sex, Family lineage, Geographic area, Age
• Ability to meet Iona’s Home requirements

Maintain database of possible children to sponsor, including contact details for family, information about the child, and information about the potential sponsorship needs.

A few days ago Director Ruth took us through the lush area of Wakiso, not too far from Kampala. The pitted and crooked road hugged the hillside and its thinness concerned me- what if a car was to come the other way? The road itself should have indicated it was not often driven though and it turned into quite an exciting expedition when the unevenness of this sloped road caused the vehicle to tip onto two side wheels more than once. A fun adventure- you can’t get that kind of ride at Disney, at least not without being strapped in.

As we passed the small compounds that would occasionally present themselves through the growth in the flat areas, Ruth pointed out the newly installed water tanks on most. She explained that some type of American missionary outreach program was funding the water tanks. And its absolutely wonderful. The water tanks, connected to a gutter on the roof, collect rain water. Of course this is a sensible environmental approach, given that the dry season lasts for months and the water table is decreasing, but, for me, the biggest thrill is how this helps the children. They are the ones who are usually sent to fetch water. And, if the choice is fetching water a great many kilometers away to enable you to survive or attending school, water wins. In short, a water tank changes lives, and generations after, for the better every time. There were at least 20 put up in the last year. Consider joy- it is a water tank and I have seen it.

We stopped at the property purchased by Ruth about 3 years ago. They have planted cassava, sweet potatoes, banana, guava, etc, and have goats and cows on the property now. They also have 2 large chicken facilities for producing eggs. With all the headaches and heartaches I go through with the international volunteer programs I administer (But he LOVED me, how could he steal my passport and money?, Why is this you demand to see where the money goes or you will stop sending the volunteers? You are racist and prefer the children to starve., But, madam, the volunteers demand foreign foods, we must charge them more money.), these moments always bring me back to the core and keep me going. The volunteers, through donations and work, are enabling this program to become self-sustainable. To grow their own food, to sell extra they produce, and to purchase a significant amount of land so that, with even more work and donations, they can build a permanent home and no longer pay exorbitant rent for places that can house ~40 children, always under the expulsion threat. Its volunteer program planned obsolescence, and exactly one of the reasons I’m here visiting each project- to see that the program builds for the long term and reliance on foreign volunteers is short term.  To see the evidence- the actual sweet potatoes, the chicken house, the land; The generosity of the volunteers, the selflessness of the Director and staff, the strength of the children, the beauty of this fertile and blossoming land, to know these children will have food, a place to live, and some extra money for school fees- it all comes together in small rapture and you feel clearly the wonderful, miraculous, and resilient Uganda.

Then, on the return journey home, the Director stops so that we can view a water tank up close and visit with a woman who has benefitted. We find her 4 small children framed in the doorway, so alarmed or charmed by the sudden influx of brightly-skinned strangers that only the eldest, a girl, perhaps about 5 years, acknowledges the Director’s “Is your mother home?” question with only a slight negative nod.

The Director wants her picture taken by a water tank. I do so and she indicates we must go because she still has yet to finish packing for a flight out. As we begin to take leave she expresses some sadness.

“It is shameful we have to leave these children without their mother at home. Not far from here, just maybe some two houses over, a baby was stolen for sacrifice.”

Perhaps this is shameful but I no longer instantly react to such statements. I pause. I breathe. I sometimes look away. Then I ask calm questions.

“What happened?”

Ruth explains that the mother took her older children and went to visit a neighbor while the baby slept. After some time, she asked her oldest child to check on the baby and see if it had yet awakened. The child returned from checking and said “I cannot find the baby there.”

It was gone.

And this is not the first in the area. Many children have been taken, and some have been known to be sacrificed. So, the assumption is that all the stolen children are being sacrificed.

Witch doctors.

One of the few times I have been in the presence of overwhelming evil, an evil so great that I was confused,  with a weight surrounding me, and an urgent desire to leave, but didn’t know all the affects until I was gone from his presence, was when I was taken, unknowingly, to a witch doctor to be healed.

Witch doctors.

They have been telling the people in the area, that to become wealthy, to fight off their disease, to help their family and crops, they must sacrifice their children. Sometimes the bones are needed to be buried under a building, sometimes parts of the child must be eaten, sometimes parts of the child must be scattered.

After the Director explained what happened to the mother, one of my first statements was “It must have been a neighbor who took the child.”

“Yes, a neighbor”

“Who else could have known that the mother was gone and a sleeping baby in the home? She had to be watched.”

“Yes.”

Sometimes, the truly wealthy are told by a witch doctor that for their large commercial venture multiple child parts will be needed. They then contract with the villagers to obtain the needed sacrifices.

The Director explained various ways they kill the children, in quite graphic detail. I won’t describe it. But I also doubt I will ever forget and the images conjured reside in my mind while I type this 3 days later.

And in these moments, my resilient, wonderful, miraculous Uganda becomes my horrid tragedy, shockingly ignorant, bastion-of-evil Uganda.

How do I find Uganda? It is the best the world has to offer and the worst you could imagine.

So, what did we do? What was my distressing decision? I left those 4 little ones because I’m deep in a village with traditions I’m very foreign to, and the Director, who has the vehicle, needs to return home and finish packing for her journey.

The children hadn’t moved their silent vigil from the doorway as we left them behind and drove away.

And while this shows the extremes, in Uganda this happens to me every day. My good friend David and his wonderful wife Christine, an even better friend, contacted his brother and father and asked if I might use their home as a base in Kampala while I travel back and forth between several villages and great distance over the course of weeks. (And coming “home” and not to a hotel after days away, has been so comforting for me.)

His brother, Charles, is one of those people that you instantly like and admire. Strong, dark, tall, intelligent, and friendly, Charles is quite discrete and generous. He is the President of our Foundation in Uganda and it is well chosen. He’s trying to set up his own law practice, something which requires a great deal of time and money, as it would in the states. Yet he paid for a private car to travel from Kampala, hours in advance of my arrival at Entebbe, to ensure it was there on time. He then waited several hours while I arrived, went through customs, and got my luggage. He had paid for this private car to ensure there would be enough room to hold my luggage- burdened by a thousand donations. While traveling to his father’s home, we stopped so that Charles could purchase foods and supplies, seemingly to make my stay comfortable. Butter, flour for the chapatti I said I liked, bottled water, etc, all offered and placed on the counter before he knew I would insist on paying for it all myself. Yet I know he is trying to save money and doesn’t have much coming in. If you knew nothing else about Charles, that would tell you all. While he could sell you the shirt off his back, he would give it before you even asked. The best the world has to offer.

But still, on the drive, as we are stopped at an actual, can-you-believe-this-is-the-same-Uganda, traffic light, a severely-thin Karamoja child approaches the car with hand outstretched. The parents train them, and a begging culture has grown. Charles explains he saw a Karamoja child about 1 and half years old on the busy median of the Kampala streets begging. This is an area where I have said I am more likely to be hit and die by traffic accident than anything else that would harm me in Uganda. A toddler, in the thin and dangerous median, begging.

And what was my distressing decision then? To focus my eyes on the outstretched hand of the child at the vehicle door and not give him money. The worst you could imagine.

Why is it that I return home each time from Uganda and after a LONG and searing-hot shower, must sleep for 26 hours straight? Its not physical exhaustion. Its my spirit. It needs the soft place to fall, to feel the comfort of pure thoughtlessness.

I remember calling the Kabira School of Orphans in the Rakai District of Uganda, where HIV/AIDS originated and the devastation of such an epidemic is found in the thousands of orphans, and graves, throughout the villages, soon after the latest Presidential elections. I found Director Mukwaya in great excitement.

“You have had a big election!”

(Of course, this conversation is much more interesting when you remember that the ‘l’ in “election” was pronounced as an ‘r’.)

Mukwaya: “You have had a big election!”

Well, not me, but… wait, what?

Mukwaya: “The election you people have had. It was big.”

Me: “You have heard about our… election.” [Yes, I pronounced the ‘l’ as an ‘r’]

Mukwaya: “We are SO happy about the election.”

Oh, will this ever end?

Mukwaya: “Our cousin is now an American President!”

Me: “Barack Obama is your cousin?!”

Mukwaya: “His people are from Kenya.”

Me: “You are in Uganda though, in Rakai.” [one of the furthest Ugandan points from Kenya]

Mukwaya: “Ah, but, for us, he is East African and we are East African. He is our cousin!”

Me: “You do not usually say that those from Kenya are your cousins.”

Mukwaya [laughing]: “Ah, but they have never been an American President. When one is an American President, they are our cousins!”

I should have known then. One or two years wouldn’t change a thing.

So, as I swept the hallway in the children’s home of Another Hope in the Nansana District of Uganda that morning, I sang “OhhhhBama, you are my real, African helo,” alongside them.

Later, as Sheila, a young teen woman with a severe case of malaria, and I sat in the larger gathering room drinking boiling hot cow’s milk and eating a rare and special bread-slice treat for breakfast, I looked at the Obama picture they had glued above the window, next to the “Jesus Loves Me” poster, and we discussed the American President.

“One of us has become great” she said.

I learned that Moses and Kato every day for quite a long while after the election would wake up and say that was the day they would meet Obama. They had both received suits from an American volunteer and, at first, Kato refused to ever wear his. “I will wear this suit on the day I am to meet Obama”.

Then, one morning, he got dressed in the suit. “Eh! But Kato, this is the suit you are going to wear when you meet Obama.”

“Today I am going to meet Obama.”

And then every day for a few months, Kato first dressed in the suit and would say “Today I am going to meet Obama.” You have the same difficulties in a Ugandan orphanage that you do in America getting children to dress in the morning. Imagine a child then willingly getting dressed in a suit, in the hopes that somehow this American suit would call upon the American President, an African hero, their hero, to visit that day, then changing to his school uniform.

I asked Kato and Moses to go get their suits that I might take a picture of them holding what they are to wear when they meet Barack Obama. Perhaps, I mused, I would send it to the White House. As I waited, I thought of all the reasons I vote, we vote, for our Presidents. I thought of my own jaded soul always believing that it doesn’t matter who wins, because nothing ever changes. Same play, different lead actor. Somehow, though, I always vote. Even when I fear I’ll be late for my flight to Uganda, I stop and vote. Instinctively I feel it matters though logically I think it doesn’t.

And, waiting for these boys, I thought there are few reasons better to choose a President then this. That, in a country the size of Oregon with over 2 million orphans, and in a region devastated by disease, poverty, and war, with even more, these children, with so little hope, and even less means, would be inspired. Would look at my President, an American President, and feel a connection, a hope, a respect, and a love and would think “He is one of ours.”

We’ve received official 501c3 approval from the United States Government. So, donations back to the date of filing can be claimed as tax-exempt.

Receiving tax-expemt status is an important step. We’re excited and hope you are too!