I’ve spent two weeks in the field, traveling from one sub-county head quarters to the next, meeting with local council members, head masters, farmer group leaders, students, and drop-outs. Traversing the three counties composing Arua district (Aiyvu, Maracha, and Terego), and their respective sub-counties, parishes, and villages, has really made my work delightful, helped improve my Lugbara, and made me feel like I’m contributing my skills effectively to CARE’s programming.
My task has been to make photographic and video documentation of the implementation of the government of Uganda’s central policies on education and agriculture (Universal Primary Education – UPE and the Plan for Modernisation of Agriculture – PMA). The photos speak louder than my words, but I’ve had a bandwidth nightmare since returning and haven’t had much success getting them all online. I think this one says it best, in so many ways: Uganda is in dynamic strungle of development. Struggle? Strangle? You decide - I think it’s both.
The work made me think of this great quote about the unadulterated joy of being alive, despite the fact that I was seeing many of the pains that come along with being alive. It was something of a defining moment, riding along in the four-door truck, with Anthony pointing out areas of key significance, of what I had always hoped my work here to be like. I learned a lot from and about Anthony over the course of these weeks. He told me about the death of his mother, about fleeing to Congo, and describing what buildings were what before the ravages of war left them standing as bare, crumbling, overgrown structures. For a good while I thought these “buildings” were just half finished projects, whose owners never had enough money/time/initiative to complete the skeletal brick frames. How could I have been so naïve?
I fell in love with West Nile during this week and a half, despite its pock-marked roads and violent history, dating back far before Amin and Colonialism, to the frontier land days of Western/Southern Equatoria. Witnessing the misguided “good intentions” of development/donor-money and government funding on the other hand, made my heart break at times. We traveled quickly, with a few bags of g-nuts, sunglasses, water, and multiple cameras. We traveled from end to end, Nile river and into Congo - well, at least I put my feet inside the border long enough for Anthony to photograph me. I met children who had never met a Caucasian (and accordingly, I scared the shit out of them).
I even found a theme song for the experience – everyday at 4:13 on Nile FM, at the beginning of my favorite radio show, “Lugbara Lady,” there is an utterly ridiculous and fantastic intro song, that is a crazy Lingala meets Mortal Kombat meets 90s Techno mash-up, that perfectly set the pace for my adventure.
Anyway, enough talk.
PMA Findings
Cattle inputs and Ox-Plow Trainings greatly improved the operating capacity of farmers, yet often beneficiaries found the procurement policies restrictive and the inputs of bad quality; a farmer in Maracha shows the photos from his training, the equipment stored inside his home, guides us to see the sick cows he received, and then shows me his land.
Through PMA inputs and funding, Draru Rasil has been able to develop the Andifeku Women’s Apiary Project; West Nile’s honey industry is strengthened and women are empowered.
A greater number of farmers are now growing fruit-bearing trees, thanks to improved seed variety dissemination. In Aroi Village, farmers are growing a wide variety of fruits, including the Zabib fruit (which is now my favorite fruit ever, a subtle blend of vanilla, pear, apple, and peach):
In Kijomoro, hybrid mangos (the size of a human head) are growing and farmers are beginning to export products, including seedlings.
The problem of proper information dissemination remains. Many potential beneficiaries are still unaware of the PMA programs and benefits for which they qualify. These non-beneficiaries remain dependent upon small-(land)holder, subsistence farming, and as a result are not able to sell their product in bulk, risk higher competition, and remain financially insecure.
Government funds were used to construct a new bridge at this junction, a project that failed to recognize that bridges should not be built to stand in mud, nor within the lowest point of a valley that floods. Six months later, the bridge is more of a Malaria breeding ground than a service to the community.
UPE Findings:At Muni Primary, the Headmaster describes the challenges of maintaining enrollment, specifically of girls, but acknowledge that through UPE funds the school library facilities have been greatly improved.
Also at Muni Primary, UPE funds have been used to construct new latrines, to replace overgrown and unsatisfactory facilities. The new latrines, however, suffer from shoddy construction and are unfit and unsanitary.
Old:
New:
Many primary schools suffer from low enrollment because the facilities are so poor, often because UPE funds have not been received or because of mishandled money, or faulty construction. In cases where UPE funds have been received, the issues are particularly disheartening: classroom blocks whose roofs have "blown off " or whose classrooms have been neglected in order to finance new teachers' quarters. Alternatively, when there is no UPE funding, all efforts are on the shoulders of parents.
Conversely, there are many cases of overcrowding in schools, like at Aroi Primary and Endrici Primary where up to six children share one desk:
The problems of the "girl-child" are significant; at the majority of schools enrollment of girls decreases by half annually. This is due to many factors, including discrimination, the need to complete household chores, and early pregnancy. This woman of 18, a student of P6 when she became pregnant, now remains at home since delivering her baby last month.
At Endru primary there is a wonderfully high number of female students in the P7 class.
(Thanks Wolfowitz!)
One of the biggest shortcomings of UPE is the lack of institutional support and/or proper facilities for people/students with disabilities. This boy of 20, in Aiivu county, is a non-beneficiary of UPE because on days when he is well enough to traverse the hour distance to school, the amenities do not accommodate for his condition.
And a few others: Traditional Lugbara
scarification:
Grinding
sorghum, one of the dietary staples/cash crops of the area:
My view of hundreds of school children running up to, chasing after, and shouting "Che cheooowaaaa" (greetings! welcome!), as seen daily in the exact same scene for two weeks across 20 different schools. The only difference? The school uniforms.
When I asked, “What is a calvert bridge?” Anthony insisted upon taking my photo in front of one:
The students are Smurfs?
At Muni trading center there is a small women’s tailoring course:
One of the many mass graves within Arua, from an ambush on Oct. 15, 1980
Anthony’s family, in front of their compound:
