My time in Uganda is fast drawing to a close – but today has provided a stark reminder that this is not something that can ever simply be left behind.
This morning, on my way to town to buy some breakfast, I was stopped dead in my tracks just metres from my front door at the sight of a toddler sitting on the ground in the doorway of a house. He was naked, crying, and covered from head to toe in a dry, brown paste. After speaking to neighbours, I found that the boy had been sick for a number of days, but that his mother had refused to take him for treatment, preferring instead to cover him in this local medicine. There is a commonly held belief here that if a child is to be injected, they will die.
Tears made tracks through the paste on his face. He was covered in flies, and screaming for his mother. As he did so, I watched three adults simply stepping over the inconvenience in the doorway. His mum had gone to her garden, over two hours walk away, to cultivate food for the family. When I went back at 6 this evening, the boy was still sitting there in the doorway. His big sister, who was maybe 7, was sitting next to him, digging parasites out of her feet with a compass.
One of the most painful aspects of my time here has been witnessing the cruelly unnecessary damage done to children simply because adults are either deprived of the time to invest in them or are, through their own pain, numb to the suffering of their own kids. Ignorance, too, has its huge part to play. KISS is trying to change this where it can, by advocating for the children at family and community level. But change can be painfully slow. And change will be too slow for some. Despite advice and financial assistance, the mother of the toddler in the doorway has still refused to take him for treatment tonight.
This afternoon, while I was in the office with Julius (our area manager in Kasambya), he introduced me to Noah. Noah is seven and, though not a direct beneficiary of KISS, has been a regular at our site. He’s one of a big group of boys of a similar age who come to the office to draw and to play with toy cars and do all the things that seven year olds back home do. Sitting on the floor with a replica London bus, Noah looked for all the world like an average seven year old kid. But last night, after losing his new shoes, Noah was terrified about going home to tell his mother. He knew what she would do to him when he told her what he’d done. In total fear, and not knowing how to respond to that fear, Noah did the unimaginable – and attempted to hang himself. A neighbour came rushing to his rescue and, although still marked from the incident, Noah hasn’t suffered any real physical damage. When Julius sat with Noah and his mum last night he found that Noah had got the idea from a film he had seen in which a boy of his age had been feeling anxious, as he was, and he thought that he would see what happened if he tried to do what the boy in the film had done. He had absolutely no comprehension that he wouldn’t live to see what happened.
This incident, whilst particularly extreme, does illustrate even more clearly the challenges that KISS staff now face in trying to change the way children are cared for in this community. Not only do children typically experience extreme fear of harsh physical punishments from parents and teachers, but there is also next to no censorship (or perceived need for censorship) on what children can watch and hear. The levels of violence and explicit references to sex in local papers and on television screens are shocking even to the adult eye. Noah’s experience is the second example in recent weeks of children known to KISS found acting out what they have seen on television screens in town. The task ahead seems enormous - but I can’t praise the staff we have in KISS highly enough for the way in which they have dealt with these two horrendous situations today. They have shown themselves to be selfless, compassionate, and faithful in their response to the children and their families – and fearless in their pursuit of all that is good and all that is just.
The money that KISS supporters have raised in England not only goes towards paying these guys, but it also provides for their ongoing training. Julius has just completed an eight month course in the care for vulnerable children which has left him more determined than ever that change is not only necessary for these children, but that it is also possible. KISS is about so much more than money. Our staff are currently working to give a voice to children who would otherwise be silenced. Please continue to support this work in both prayer and action.
