Keeping the faith

Kelli and I found ourselves heading out east, again. We endured another five-hour van ride along a maze of great potholes. Once more, we past through what my lungs deemed must be a great dust bowl. This trip better be worth it. Our previous visit to Busia had been cut short and we wanted to spend more time with a man named Gerald and learn about his program called Radiant Love Caring Mission.



I have been filming a few of these organizations, such as Radiant Love, so I can include them on my website at www.projectsuubi.com. I want to make a commercial for each, showing the programs that are at work. I believe the visual blurb will be a better tool to get people to donate. All the funds that Project Suubi had raised were dispersed among groups within the first few weeks upon our arriving. All we offer now are our hands and hearts. I can help network an organization which might lead to possible funds, but I cannot personally bear money. Sometimes that does not sink in with people. Once the word “money” is mentioned at all, people’s eyes glaze over and a steady string of drool comes out their mouths.

To Ugandans, if you are a mzungu (white person) you must have money. It is just plain fact and cannot be disproved. Kelli and I frequently display our empty pockets, but that method is never successful. When volunteering, what we represent to Ugandans tends to work against us. As soon as we stepped out of the van we met trouble. The word had gotten around that we were meeting with Gerald, and other non-profits in the area were jealous of this. “They say I am stealing the mzungus away from them,” Gerald exclaimed to me when we arrived. I corrected him, “Don’t worry about it. We are not property or possessions that can be stolen. We can visit with whom we please.” I was a little dumbfounded by this unexpected situation. The non-profits were fighting over us like two kids deciding who gets to push the elevator button. I find this a strange mentality for any non-profit to have, especially ones that share the same goal. You don’t see PETA getting pissed because Greenpeace gets a large grant to fight poaching. This isn’t the space race, people. Who cares who helps the orphans first as long their helped? There should be some camaraderie in Busia between organizations. Unfortunately, there is not.

Gerald shuttled us into the back of a beat-up car and we set out to gather information on Radiant Love

Or not.

Gerald stopped the car on every corner and chatted up every passerby. He found reasons to lollygag. It began to dawn on me that he was showing us off. He wanted to be seen with Kelli and I, the mzungus, his mzungus. He was like one of those sixteen year old boys that cruise around mall parking lots proudly showing off their new Ford Mustang.

I finally got frustrated and cracked my whip. Our time was limited here. We needed to get down to business; no more pussyfooting around (by the way, “pussyfooting” has got to be the most ridiculous word ever). Anyway, we set off to visit four areas, each led by a different coordinator of Radiant Love. Some of the places we reached by foot, because there were no roads. When we crossed a rickety bridge, Gerald declared that we were the first mzungus to pass over into this land. Too bad, I left my flag at home.

In each area a massive amount of people had mobilized to greet us. Kelli and I repeated why we were there videotaping. I then recorded personal story after personal story. Women grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to them, “school fees, please, school fees,” they’d whisper in my ear. There were hundreds of children running around. They should be in class, but none of them can afford it.


At one stop there was young albino boy. When I shook his hand I could feel his burned raw skin and his ears and lips were severely chapped. Kelli grabbed the sunblock out of our bag and showed it to his grandmother. We tried to explain that he has no pigment, melanin, in his skin to protect him from the sun’s harmful rays. He needs special attention and should wear a hat and longer layers when playing in the sun. Kelli opened the bottle and smoothed the lotion on his peeling body. The other children formed a tight circle around her, inquisitively watching her strokes. As she finished, she put the sunblock in his hand and reminded him to use it everyday. Sadly, that lotion will most likely be passed around and emptied before nightfall.


I listened to plea after plea. One girl’s cheek had swollen to the size of cantaloupe. She was badly in need of a dentist. “Please, I cannot afford medical care,” her guardian implored. When we left the zone, I turned to Gerald. I tried to clarify that the people I have met seem to carry false hope that I will be the solution. This mistakenly implied responsibility cannot rest on my shoulders. I hope the video will bring in funds, but I will not physically be here to pass donations out. I could do my part and round up donations, but Radiant Love was going to have to be accountable for distributing. They will have to answer to these distress calls. I continued to question Gerald, is Radiant Love ready for that incredible responsibility? How will they decide who gets school fees and which child receives aid? These questions must be thoroughly considered before funds come in. He nodded and said he understood. But as the day wore on, all I saw were more people praying for relief. I had a lurking fear there was no program set up, no plan of action, no proposed solution.


We spent that night at Gerald’s house. His wife made a feast for dinner. She brought out plate after plate and sat them on the table in front of us. “If you do not eat, I will fight you,” she stated. I let out a chuckle thinking she was being humorous, but she shot me a serious glance. She wasn’t kidding. I gulped and wiped off my smile. She disappeared into the kitchen to fetch more plates. Kelli and I quickly looked around the room for a way out. I seriously considered dumping some of the food into my camera bag. After we cleaned three plates each, I unbuttoned my pants and sighed. “Eat more, eat more,” Gerald and his wife encouraged. You have got to be kidding me. Kelli distracted them with a long story and I used the old childhood tactic of pushing food around on the plate to make it appear like I had eaten a lot.

Right before bed, Gerald sat us down and requested that we help him find school sponsorship for his four children. They were already in school, but he wanted to place them in better boarding schools. There was a silence before I responded. Frankly, I was a little taken back that he would ask this of us, considering the number of children we met today that do not have the opportunity to ever see the inside of a classroom. I said I would try, but to remember that his children are lucky. They have two parents, their health, and can afford education. Kelli and I shared a glance. We have spent so much time together we no longer need to communicate verbally. We both knew that the other was nervous, for how can we trust him to not use the organization’s money on his own family.

We quietly sat there. I watched a mouse scurry over a mat that his child was laying on. I guess I can’t blame his request, really. You find that in a lot on non-profits the people that are running them are struggling and in need themselves. How can you begin help others if you can’t help yourself?


The next morning we woke up early. Kelli and I were heading back to Kampala that evening. If Radiant Love was an actual program and not just an idealistic afterthought I had to find out today. We traveled out to the fourth and final area. The director of that area, a man named Jimmy, was a little preoccupied because he had spent the majority of the night trying to find a doctor for his pregnant wife who had fallen dreadfully ill with malaria. Despite his troubles, he surprisingly still wore a smile when he met with us. He showed us the zone’s school and children’s center for the orphans. Plus, he took us to see land that was purchased for building a larger school and a farm. This is what I wanted to see, someone who had their act together.

Before we departed, Kelli and I sat down with all the coordinators in each of the zones. We went over our findings. There is an immediate need for schooling. If Radiant Love is fortunate enough to receive a $3000 donation, they can easily spend that on school fees for 10 children for one year. OR they could put that $3000 towards building a school that would educate many more children for many more years. We reiterated that the focus needs to be kept on long term results and not immediate consumptive needs.

We reviewed their project proposal/budget and made corrections. Night was upon us and it was time for us to bid adieu. We parted ways and I squished myself into the back of the van and prepared for yet another torturous ride home to Kampala. I practiced my yoga, contorting my body to find a comfortable seat position. Although that never happened, I did find comfort knowing that I had not lost complete faith in the Radiant Love program. These directors will come together and create accountability and responsibility. This organization will survive. Why am I so sure of this? Because they possess a rare empathy and understanding of what is going on. They face the very same challenges and fears, which has made them even more determined to fight for improvements.