You know when so much has happened you can’t really think of
how to describe it? That’s kind of
how I feel about the time since we have left Gulu. I just wrote the past two posts over the past few days that
we haven’t had internet access, but feel like there is so much more to
say. Every day is packed full of
things but I feel like my brain is on overload and I cant remember anything.
Right now I’m sitting in my new home for the next 2
weeks. It’s smack-dab in the
center of Kigali, Rwanda’s capital.
The past few days getting here have been long and tiring, and looking
back at them, everything seems blurred together.
Francesca and I at the Equator on our way to Mbarara
We set off from Kamapala on Sunday, about a 5.5 hr drive to
Mbarara , a large town in the West.
Because it was more like a layover, we didn’t have much time to explore
in the two days we were there. We
did get to meet the SIT Rwanda program students though. That was interesting and really made us
appreciate our own group. There
are 23 of them and apparently they don’t get along too well. They talk a lot of smack and are pretty
crazy (they party hardy). I’m
really glad that all 14 students in our group are truly interested in the
content of our program and have the easy-going personalities that we do.
The night we met up was actually Uganda’s 50th
anniversary of independence. That
was exciting to go out that night to celebrate, but turned out to be a little
too rowdy. I’ve never really felt
too uncomfortable since I’ve arrived here, but the men that night were a little
too aggressive for anyone’s liking.
It probably didn’t help going out with a group of about 30 muzungus,
where only 8 were boysso most of us ended up going back very early. Simon was with us and brought two
local friends, and even they were little help deterring unwanted attention.
It’s unfortunate that the some people here have this perception not only of muzungus,
but of women in general. We
weren’t the only ones getting paid attention to…
During the day we had quite a different experience. We took a trip just outside of town to Nakivale
Refugee Settlement. The landscape
instantly changed to a flatland, clearly infertile, between mountains on all
sides. In this 71 K2 area, 70,000
refugees are currently living.
There are around 30,000 Congolese, 10,000 Somalis, 8,000 Rwandese, and
the rest consist of Burudis, Ethiopians, Kenyans, 1 Liberian, 1 Iraqi, 1
Frenchman, and 1 Tanzanian. We
also learned that as of July 2013, the Rwandese will loose their refugee status
here because it is deemed safe for them to return to their country, so then
they must either repatriate, apply for citizenship in Uganda, or appeal their
case of refugee status. It just
amazed me because this land is beautiful to the eye, but clearly not a place by
any means easy to live in, so obviously these people are staying here for a
reason. The way it was put suggested that they are just trying not to go back
even though it’s fine for them to.
With only receiving 7kilos of food for a month, I doubt anyone would opt
for this lifestyle if they had a better option.
Group picnic in the flatlands of Nakavali Rwandese community in Nakivali Settlement
Uganda’s refugee policy is
interesting. It seems that
they do the most the can as they do not have “camps” but “settlements.” This means they allot the newcomers land
to live, grow food, etc. rather than just a temporary plastic tent squeezed
next to others. This at least
gives people a little freedom to try to maybe live similarly to how they did in
their previous culture.
In this settlement, there is 1 secondary school, 9 primary
schools, 1 vocational training school, and only 4 health centers, which are
inefficient and corrupt. The main
problems that the settlement faces as a whole are peace, peace building, and
reconciliation, so I’m sure that alone paints a vivid picture of what life is
like there. Although each ethnic
group stays in its own village, there are still tensions amongst them. It was interesting reflecting afterward
to see how different groups perceived their camp experience.
Our group split into two, one to talk to Somalis and the
other to talk to Congolese. My
group talked to Somalis, who thought the camp is very safe and that tensions
with other groups are non-existent.
However, the other group talked to Congolese, where women openly
expressed their fear of going out to collect firewood or farm because of the
probability of rape. They also
resented the other groups who were getting resettlement in other countries. It is clear that every group has a
different idea of what life is in the camp.
Somali area of Nakivale Settlement
A (relatively) nice home in Nakivale
What I was most surprised of was the openness in the camp. In Gulu, everyone has endured tragedy
of some sort from the conflict, but many people don’t talk about it
openly. In the camp, people would
just walk up to us and tell us their stories. One man from Somalia lost his whole family and wishes to
never even hear of the place again.
Another man was once a doctor and is now here with not enough money to
even eat every day. In our group,
we talked to about 30 Somali men and women. It was interesting that one woman was the first to stand to
tell her story. She shared that she
was kidnapped in 2011 by Alshebaab for 7 months. She wouldn’t openly talk about the atrocities that went on
in front of the men, but allowed the girls to read her medical report. Out of respect for her I wont share her
name or the details of her story, but what you can imagine happened to her is
probably not nearly as bad as what actually did. She is now left with a demobilizing gash on her right leg, four
children, no husband, or hearing in her right ear. But as she says, life goes on and she makes the best out of
every day.
Another issue the camp faces is the situation of the
children. The group we were
talking with expressed concern of no loyalty to their mother country among the
youth because they either were too young to remember, or were born in the
camp. They now also are
getting poor education, and often are neglected by their parents. One woman says she is ashamed because
her children will come crying and she can only ignore them because she knows if
she answers there is nothing she can offer to satisfy their need.
So much was going on it was hard to take in. It’s tricky to believe that in such a
picturesque place there is so much suffering. But I’m also starting to realize that is a trend here in
Uganda.
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