Living with your Neighbours

The riots and killings following the Kenyan elections in December were reported around the world. It had been hoped that this flagship of East African democracy would not fall into the trap of the corruption and rigged elections of which Mwai Kibaki has been accused by Raila Odinga. A month later and we are still waiting to see what the outcome will be and praying for the success of Kofi Annan’s present diplomatic efforts.

We remember well reading of similar crises in other countries when we were living in the UK. They seemed very distant, and although we knew they were serious for the country involved, we hardly gave a thought to any knock-on effects in other countries.

As an island, the British Isles has always enjoyed a certain measure of security from the effects of uncertainty and instability in other countries. Even during the 2nd World War, whilst Belgium, France and other countries experienced invasion the buffer of the English Channel helped to protect us from the same fate.

Living now in Uganda we find just how different life can be for a country that not only has land borders with its neighbours, but is totally landlocked. Whereas Britain can, when it chooses, enjoy a sense of splendid isolation, Uganda has no choice. Its present and future is tied up inextricably with the lives of its neighbours.

Whilst we have not personally experienced much disturbance, the fragile economy of Uganda has been considerably disrupted by the events in Kenya. Until the present crisis almost all of Uganda’s imports came through the port at Mombasa. The riots following Kenya’s elections closed that port and the road between Mombasa and Uganda. In particular, oil is an essential import, and the sudden loss of supplies drove up the price of petrol and diesel, for a while by 100%. In Arua, the supply of heavy diesel for the power station has been significantly reduced, and the town now has only 8 hours of electricity each day with the consequent effects on businesses in and around the town. Oil is now getting through from Tanzania, albeit not in the previous quantities, but the price is still very high. Whether it likes it or not Uganda is dependent on its neighbours for most of its imported commodities.

All this is, of course, exacerbated by the influx of frightened Kenyans in eastern Uganda, which are additional stresses for the Ugandan economy on top of refugees in the south-west from DR Congo and Rwanda, and in the north from southern Sudan. For a landlocked country like Uganda to thrive the keyword must be not independence, but interdependence.

This is, perhaps, a characteristic the economically powerful western nations, including our own island race, would do well to foster. It is also, perhaps a quality which we as individuals should seek to nurture in our own communities.

When is a Library not a Library?

Before coming to Uganda, we made sure we included a reasonable collection of books in the air freight. Some books were for our leisure, others for our work. We had to be selective because of weight restrictions, but managed to augment our collection with several weightless ‘e-books’ and ended up with a reasonable library at home.

Books are things we take for granted, and especially if we’re teachers or students. Can you imagine a world without books? Even if you don’t have the particular book you want, it can usually be found at Waterstone’s, on the Amazon website (what a wonderful institution!), or in the local library.

So, in our recent tour of the diocesan Archdeaconry Training Centres (ATCs) it seemed reasonable to look at their libraries. ATCs are responsible for training the majority of lay church teachers to lead local congregations. Students are mostly full-time and live in thatched mud huts (pictured above), often with their families. They are taught in classrooms, such as that pictured. Their training lasts up to three years, but separated by periods of time ‘in the field’. These lay leaders represent the grass roots of church leadership, and may go on to ordination. Their ministry is crucial for the health of the church in Uganda.

We were shown several ATC libraries, and the photographs speak for themselves. The largest library had around 200 books. Some books were new, but the majority were old, and few were suited to students whose first language was not English. Many I would have found heavy-going and most I would have cleared from my bookshelves a long time ago. Indeed, many of them probably came from a similar source! But the custodians of the ATCs cared for these books as best they could, after all they were theirs in trust. In one library I found one book two-thirds consumed by termites. It had been retrieved, and carefully stored with all the other books now kept in a termite-free environment. The smallest library we saw had just 12 books and a few dog-eared booklets. Its most recent book was dated 1927.

I was close to tears as I thought of the resources I had brought with me and the books I had left in the UK. Many pastors in dioceses like Madi/West-Nile have few books of their own, and most lay leaders will have none. If there are no books in the ATCs, how will these church leaders be fed? And yet we found amazing faith and resilience amongst the ministers we met, a sacrificial commitment to ministry that put me to shame, and all of it pursued against a most challenging social background and with staggeringly limited resources.

It is impossible to come to a country like Uganda without becoming acutely aware of the inequality of distribution of the world’s goods. It is truly heartbreaking when you realise how much it extends to the world-wide church as well. It will take some time to process this experience.