A Day in the Field

Post by Nicole

As we come to the end of our second week of work here is Kampala I’m getting more comfortable at my NGO and falling into a nice rhythm.  First, a little about the office environment I’m working in, my first office environment in a long, long time.  The office consists of approximately 11 people, many of whom are Ugandan interns or volunteers.  Since the job market is dismal here, it is common for well-educated locals to volunteer at offices in exchange for transport and lunch. The office is small with modest furnishings and a pantry area where people eat lunch and can help themselves to coffee or tea. I work in the “resource room” which also serves as the meeting room.  Electricity is intermittent and the generator seems to be on the fritz.  I might have contributed to this fritz when the other day the power returned I plugged in my computer, felt a slight electrocution, and heard a loud bang.  Two computers and a copy machine went kaput.  When electricity goes off and the computers die, people are seemingly un-phased, they turn to chat with their neighbor or pull out a newspaper.  I’ve been advised to “roll with it”—very wise words.

I spent the first several days learning about the NGO, which advocates on behalf of marginalized people in the workforce.  They do quite impressive work with few resources and are currently on a big campaign to ban child exploitation.  It is very common here for families—even poor families—to “hire” orphaned or poorer children from the villages as domestic workers.  Although there is a law prohibiting child labor, and technically primary school is mandatory for all Ugandan children, I have learned quickly that there is a major disconnect between the written law and the enforcement of legislation.

After a week and a half of learning, reading, editing documents and helping create web content for the organization, I finally had the opportunity to get out “in the field.” I joined a group of three young men who are recent college graduates and interns in the Child Labor and HIV Education Department of the NGO.  Since July they have been creating mapping tools, holding community meetings and working on a task force to identify children in one community between the ages of 14-17 who are working as domestic laborers.  The NGO has a grant to pay the boarding school fees and uniforms for these children to attend a 6-month vocational program about 1.5 hours outside of Kampala.  The team had identified approximately 100 children and they collected important information about each child (name, age, where they come from, what, if anything, they are getting paid, living conditions, medical problems, job description, guardians, etc).  Each child was asked if he or she would like to go to school and each employer was then asked if he/she would grant permission for the child to be taken from the home and placed in schools. 

On the day that I joined the team, each of the children had been spoken to already.  This was a second go around with the intention of getting verbal consent from the guardian (at times a parent or relative and at other times an employer).  The twist to this story is that the first community targeted is the police barracks.  This warrants some explanation:  all types of officers in Uganda live with their families in the police barracks, which is essentially a slum. It is a huge community of small concrete or tin homes—one on top of the next, none larger than two rooms and each housing many people. Toilet facilities are communal. They do have intermittent electricity and running water. In some of these homes, as many as eight people live in one room. Each family is large, in part because a mother’s  “children” include her biological children, her husband’s children from prior marriages, her brother’s orphaned children who she is looking after since he died, etc.  It is what we could call “blended families” to the max. Officers, on average, earn 200,000 shillings a month, which is the equivalent of 71 USD.  Obviously this is a very low wage and stretching it to cover and family of ten often leaves parents with the inability to pay school fees (approximately 50 USD per child per year).  Often the eldest child is responsible for caring for the younger kids while no parent is around—sometimes the parent is on duty far away for upwards of two weeks at a time.  In other cases, a relative has taken a child in because her own parents were too poor to feed or clothe her.  In reciprocation for food and shelter, the child is put to work.  This usually involves washing the clothing, preparing meals, cleaning the small home and looking after the other children. Still other times a child is sent from the village to the city under the guise of going to school and is instead exploited as a child laborer.

Ironically, these officers who employ child domestic workers are either unaware of the law prohibiting child labor or have complete disregard for the law (usually the latter).  Some are cases of clear exploitation while other cases are far more complicated. As you can imagine, this becomes a tricky process.  

My First Day in the “Field”

I got in the car, super excited for this adventure with my three new intern friends who took me in as if we’d been buddies forever.  As they sang along to some Snoop Dogg, we exchanged stories and had some good laughs. We arrived at the police barracks and my young intern friends suddenly became very professional as we met with the commander of the police department. He is a middle aged, happy and engaging fellow who expressed full support for our project.  He offered to assist us if we ran into trouble with the employers (other officers).  He was hoping our interaction would remain friendly and that after we explained to the other officers that the organization will be paying for the school fees and this is an important opportunity for these young people, they would quickly consent.  Turns out, it was not quite that easy.

Our team consisted of myself, two invaluable women from the community who are the task force member leaders, and the three interns.  Our goal was to, over the course of two days, reach all 98 of the children and obtain consent from them and their guardians, answer questions, and ensure that each child has a mattress and bed sheets to bring. The vast majority of the targeted students are girls since domestic work is largely the job of women in this community. 

I was immediately struck by how shy and respectful these young girls were. Many curtseyed to me as they shook my hand.  One child, just shy of 2 years old, got down on her knee to greet me as a sign of respect. A couple of girls brought tears to my eyes when I saw the joy and appreciation in their faces at the prospect of going to school. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” they whispered.  They told me that they feel blessed to have been chosen.  It was incredible to see how eager these kids are for even a small fraction of a formal education.  Many aspire to be hair dressers, tailors, or shoemakers and are hoping to learn those skills in vocational school.

I was equally impressed by the way my intern colleagues worked in the community and the way in which they were able to connect with the children and their families.  They were professional, respectful, caring and non-confrontational. I think this is partly Ugandan culture and partly the nature of these young men.

I was a novelty in the village and soon children appeared form every corner shouting “muzungu.”  I was feeling the love.  “My muzungu,” one girl told her friend.  No, “My muzungu,” the friend argued.  We all had a good laugh as I assured them that there was plenty of me to go around.  A little further into the day, a gentleman on a motorcycle screamed, “Muzungu I love you!!!”  I probably can’t take credit for all the love I received today as they associate muzungu with donor funding and movies.

But, not everyone took to me so quickly. One small boy burst into tears when he saw me. The grandmother cradled him and began to laugh, explaining to me that he had never seen a muzungu and that I should not be offended. Smiling at the child only made him cry louder so eventually I accepted that not everyone was ready to make the muzungu their friend. Maybe next time.

For other young girls who were being given the opportunity for school, today’s story did not end happily.  Many of the employers refused to let the children be taken because they have nobody to look after the other kids. Other employers were not around to give their consent.

And then there is the complicated issue of the villagers hoping that since I have white skin, I can fix their problems.  I was brought to the home of a family with a child who is disabled. “Please see her,” the community task force member asked.  “This girl, she cannot talk or walk and it is so hard for her family, ” she explained.  I met the mother and child who clearly has cerebral palsy. My heart broke for this family who cannot afford therapy for their severely disabled child.  Since the mother must constantly tend to the child, her earning ability is nil and thus all 7 other children also suffer. I’m now on a mission to find free or heavily subsidized therapy for this child. Fingers crossed.  At the end of the day the task force member asked if I knew of anyone who would sponsor her children.  Sometimes being white here is a tough cross to bear.

Of the 60 homes reached today, we managed to get consent from 22 families. Another 26 are pending and the remaining employers refused.  The next step is to develop a strategy to convince these other employers to release the children. We are all hoping that after mediation and some more counseling, we can convince the employers. If not, legal action will likely be taken.

Ultimately, my role here will be to educate these lovely adolescents after they are settled in the vocational school.  I’m developing a basic health education curriculum and plan to discuss nutrition, pregnancy and HIV prevention, and how to make healthy lifestyle choices.  I have also been asked to counsel these young women and teach the interns some basic counseling techniques.  This will be quite the learning experience for me, as I do not have formal training in counseling.  If anyone reading this blog has ideas, please share!

I am starting to feel that there is a higher purpose for me being here. I am overwhelmed by how much I have learned on only my first day out in the community.  I can only hope that as time goes on I can reciprocate in this incredible process of knowledge sharing across the globe.