continuing the story of sarah and justin
on Um Zayd wa Atheer (Uganda), 03/Jun/2009 19:39, 34 days ago
The weeks are long and amazing. Every day opens up into the chapter of a book with unexpected dramas, highs and lows. The characters, their stories and their faces are all real and beyond fiction. On paper our weekly programme looks challenging but achievable. Last week there were net sales, follow ups, meetings with local politicians and even a water engineer. As we move from one activity to another my head fills and I often relive the events for several days. Some things are just too poignant to let go of quickly. A few days ago, as will travelled between remote villages Stephen (now the official Miirya Project Adminstrator, my Ugandan colleague and my pal) spoke of his need to record these special experiences in his life. He wants to write them down too lest he should forget......But I am turning the pages too quickly. Two Saturdays ago I returned to Nyakatiki village to see my friend Sarah. You'll remember the stories of her unexplained paralysis, the pressure sores and her wheelchair. It's an hour's drive along rough roads that become rougher, that eventually become overgrown tracks leading to a small cluster of mud huts. We caught Sarah and Justin unawares but Justin said that he had been waiting for me to come. Our joy was mutual and sincere. The grandchildren began to gather as Justin changed out of his gardening shirt. Most of them were too apprehensive to come close or smile eventhough they had seen me before. Their grandfather was gentle and encouraging and with the help of my handful of balloons bewilderment turned to beams. We sang nicknackpaddywack with Justin soon joining in. He said that the children would think I was 'jokeful' and were happy.I too was concerned about the visit. How would Sarah be? How would Justin be managing to care for a paraplegic wife in such harsh surroundings? I shouldn't have worried. Sarah is surrounded by her family, love and recognition and by her husband's devotion. Quietly Justin is struggling to grow enough food to feed his large family and to have a bit of food left to sell to gather a few coins. This is the lean season. The cassava has been harvested, eaten or sold. Beans, groundnuts and maize await their turn, still in the ground, hoping for more rainfall before they are gathered in. This visit there were no chickens scratching around in the compound, no cooking pot simmering on the open fire, no mounds of vegetables waiting to be dried. The wheelchair still idly sits to one side eyeing Sarah's life but aking no part in it. It now has a punctured tyre. It too has become disabled.The return journey to Masindi was quiet. Something special exists in Nyakatiki, in that small cluster of huts. I thought of the prayer of Saint Francis and know that Justin and Sarah are 'channels' of God's peace, there is no despair only hope and love.