Watoto!

 A dear South African friend of mine who lives in Bendigo recently wrote to me, and in his letter, he wrote these words: "Once you have been touched by the powerful soul of Africa you will never be the same again – take my word for it – and you will return to Africa again some time in the future because of what it has silently done to you. You may not realize it yet, but it changes you."  Let me tell you . . . these words are so very true.

 

As per my last post, we were behind in our flight schedule, and so we were not able to spend the time we wanted to in Uganda.  We elected to fly on a commercial flight back to Uganda because this flight is about showing how horrific malaria is, and not simply about flying around the world.  This flight is merely a platform . . . a foundation . . . to hold a banner for all of us to see the suffering people all over the world are experiencing because of this disease.  Thus, we changed our schedule and at 3:30am we drove down the deserted streets of Dar Es Salaam and five hours later we landed back in Entebbe, Uganda.

 

"Once you have been touched by the powerful soul of Africa you will never be the same again . . . ." 

 

The flights had been difficult to obtain due to the FIFA World Cup here, and let me tell you, I could not even begin to tell you how privileged I feel that I was in Africa when the World Cup started here.  The pride that all Africans have in their country . . . the unity that this sport has brought amongst so many of these countries is literally amazing.  The ads on TV about Africa United and about daring to dream . . . it is so inspiring.  I have heard so many people here say that this is the greatest event Africa has ever hosted . . . and they have done it proud. Truly.

 

We were picked up at Entebbe Airport by Phillip and Solomon - members of the Watoto team.  Then it was out to Kampala.  I could write for days and never adequately paint a pictures of the sights, sounds and smells that we experienced for the next two and a half days.  Droves of people everywhere riding, driving or attempting so in all manner of vehicles at all manner of speeds and in varying directions.  Roads are more like guidelines rather than dictated specifications of travel direction rules.  Motorbikes everywhere and the balance of the average African woman is unequalled by any Western gymnast.  In beautiful, bright coloured dresses and skirts, the elegant women sit side saddle on the motorbikes with their hands in their laps while their eager dusty drivers seek to rival Valentino Rossi in traffic that the Western world could never understand.  My eyes met the eyes of one such African woman as the bike she was on zipped between our car and then in front of a truck, and she nodded her head and smiled as calmly as you and I would if we were sitting across from each other on the city bus.  If I was on that bike, it would not be side saddle, and I would be handing on like grim death to any fixed part of that motorbike! My eyes would be clenched shut, and I would be muttering over and over the policy number of my Tower Life Insurance policy!

 

 

After attending the Watoto Church that Sunday afternoon, Phillip and Solomon took us to Baby Watoto - The Bulrushes. This is an orphanage for babies that have been abandoned, found on rubbish heaps and in rubbish bins or dumped at hospitals or police stations.  We saw the ward for premature babies and then wandered through the rest of the centre.  Outside on the verandah, there were a considerable number of babies playing there with their carers.  We were encouraged to hold one of the babies.  I fought tears as I picked up and cradled a little baby girl in my arms.  She would have been about a year old, and yet here she was . . . thank God for Watoto!

 

The next morning, we headed out to Suubi, Uganda to see one of the Watoto Children's Villages.  In essence, this is a haven for orphans from ages 2 - 12.  Here they are loved, educated and protected at this incredible place.  The facility was amazing with close to 1000 children and staff on site.  Each child shares a home with seven other children, and a devoted woman is a mother to these eight children.  Tim and I went down to the Kindegarten (Preps) where there were 13 children being taught by the teacher out in the school yard.  We were invited into the class, and we gave Millions Against Malaria caps to the teacher for distribution to the children.  She did this straight away and she encouraged me to sit on the ground and give the caps out.  As each child got their hat, they gave me a hug.  Then they all bunched in close around me and sung the song, "We love you, you love me . . . ."  At the end of the song, one of children gave me a kiss on the cheek and said "I love you!"  I had to really work to hold back the tears.  With their hats firmly planted on their heads, the kids headed back into the classroom, and the teacher gave me a tour of the classroom and showed me all the things they did and made . . . this teacher was one amazing teacher!  Finally (and reluctantly) we left and continued on.

 

We then stopped in at the next Baby Watoto that had just been recently built in Suubi.  There were a number of children here with physical and mental challenges, and the love those children were receiving from the nurse in charge was just fantastic.  They just adored her.  One chap, Blake, was particularly friendly and got along famously with our friend, Phillip, who was showing us around.

 

From there, we headed out to another village at Bberi.  This was another Watoto Children's Village, and the roads we took to get there were fascinating!  Most of us would only go down them in a 4WD, and yet we were in a standard car banging away . . . . and always the sights and sounds on the side of the road were incredible.  An ongoing array of shops in the form of stalls stood on both sides of the road.  Meat hanging in the open air, then beside that, a tailor stall with all manner of Western, Eastern and local clothing . . . next was a stall large enough for a pool table and in the dim far corner of the stall, a small Phillips TV was showing the current World Cup game in play.

 

At Bberi, we saw a replica of what we saw at Suubi . . . a large number of orphaned children being nurtured and cared for by this wonderful organisation, Watoto.  Here are some statistics for you from Watoto's brochure:

Watoto Children's Villages are currently caring for 2,000 children.

 

By the end of the day, we arrived back at the guest house both physically and emotionally worn out.  Before Phillip left though, I asked him if I could interview him regarding the impact of malaria here in Uganda.  He agreed and he explained that malaria is killing more people in Africa than even HIV/Aids.  I asked how they dealt with malaria at the Watoto Children's Villages, and he said that mosquito nets were paramount.  He said that if a child sleeps under a mosquito net, then their chances of contracting malaria drops by 80%.  On top of this is the necessary medication required should the child get malaria.  The children at Watoto are cared for meticulously in combating this disease.  I then asked him if he had known anyone personally that had been killed by malaria.  He looked at me and nodded. "Yes.  My dad."

 

We MUST do something about malaria.  We must.  As you drive through the tracks and roads here in Uganda, and you will see the dusty, sweating children playing, working, laughing . . . . I noticed two boys lugging huge buckets of water along the road - they would not have been older than seven or eight.  Then there was the little girl standing under the tree waving at each car that went past.  There was the young boy - maybe five or six - standing guard by the cow grazing along the road.  All of these children run the risk of contracting this disease and dying.  To prevent it, they only need a few dollars!

 

The next morning before we left the guest house to head back to the airport, we flicked on the TV to get the football scores from the World Cup.  As we flicked through the channels, we came to a program called "Take Me Back Home".  The interviewer was interviewing child after child who had been abandoned and then making a plea on the television for parents or relatives to come and claim their child.  I could not change the channel.

 

So here we are back in Dar Es Salaam.  I look out the window and see a large number of cars parked below.  A chap in overalls squats on the ground with a large grinder and commences some body repair work on a tired old Toyota Camry.  One car down, another chap dripping in sweat welds up a crack in a door . . . . I can hear the long wail of a police siren . . . and the people are everywhere - of every colour, every race, every religion . . . . they walk - in no rush - just walk, talk, smile, laugh.  Tomorrow, we fly out to Seychelles and then on to India, but I believe I will have to return to Africa in the not too distant future to find that piece of my heart that this country has claimed.