Africa
on Um Zayd wa Atheer (Uganda), 19/Nov/2009 12:47, 34 days ago
Africa, a continent of bush villages, shimmering heat, disturbing insects and nothing much to do. Africa, a continent of exotic picture books animals and birds, dusty warmth, crystal clear skies and so much busyness eating up every daylight hour. Most tasks done by hand as they have been done for hundreds of years. The 40 Villages of Miirya Sub County free from technology and machinery save for the battery operated radio, mobile phones and motorbikes. Homes free from electricity or tap water but aspiring for education for their abundant families. Daily life is very routine and predictable, governed by the rising and the setting of the sun and tropical downpours. Changes are insidious, creeping into the folds of life and accepted without challenge. Brief interludes of inconvenience, even death being God's will.As an outsider from this mindset, it is difficult to understand and brush aside. Within one week I take on their anger and frustration single-handed. I will fear for twelve-year-old Joshua beaten by his mother for going to school, instead of caring for his baby brother at home. Joshua has now run away, sleeping and eating goodness knows where and when. Meanwhile orphaned Baby Charles is six weeks old, cared for by his very elderly grandparents in the bush. His layette in rags and cows' milk his only lifeline when there is little spare money. There is no time or energy to grieve a lost daughter.A few miles away Amina's fractured leg has still not healed after her accident 9 months ago. Unable to stand she is locked into the circle of dust around her mud hut, using homemade crutches to bear her weight and relieve her pain. At least Mohammed's elderly father is recovering. From their village, in the middle of the night, he was brought on the back of a motorcycle with a strangulated hernia. Not a single light on the path to show them the way along dirt tracks. Surgery was swift and all are grateful for his survival. Today he has made his return journey home by the same means as he came.And so the stories emerge week by week. No anger is expressed, no tears visible, no blame apportioned, just accepted as the inevitable, just as the sun sets and rises, just as the rain disturbs and disappears.