The world seems to be rapidly revolving more than ever, before you know its dusk.
As I try to make sense out of the US presidential folks, the Wall Street is busy tumbling, calling for our attention as though we were the architects.
In Kampala its getting even worse with building site collapsing onto its own workers and the road carnage claiming over hundred people at different incidents in just a fortnight.
Missing Chapters
Life has been so rapid for me that I don't seem to know where I dropped the thread from. with ministry am investing more of my energies with the children teaching at the men's Bible Study Fellowship and facilitating the children’s' church in my local congregation.
Studio
Lately I have caught myself doing more miniature paintings it seems am loosing the passion for the bigger things anyway I enjoying it.
Prayer Request
That I get directions for living and also be able to obey!
Finale
Yesterday as was I hustling through the crowded Kampala city taking twists and turns, hope stepping the muddy potholes at the same time having to watch over my pockets and the "boda boda" motor cyclists, a man idly observing my despairing face said "a wheel-barrow pusher never waves"…
I will never cry again.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Peter Rocks!
Peter would always be one of the first four boys to welcome you, the moment you enter this Baby's home in a Kampala outskirt.
its not the case anymore, Peter now limps his way after a malaria injection that paralysed one of his legs, despite the beeming smile, you can still read the frustration and agony the 5 or 6 year old lad is going through.
Remeber to pray for Peter that God may provide a brighter future and better medical care and good health!
God bless
Peter rocks!
Simon - SETH - Peter @ the Babies home!
sam strums!
Sam is one other guy who would rock out all your musical senses,
He will soon be openning a music school for young folks and former
juveniles.
hey visit Sam Sekitto at http://www.myspace.com/unclesamuganda
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
The last 20 hours Nairobi – Kampala!
These days traveling to Nairobi without a major story is like watching a series of African movies without the famous “Ki- Nigeria” (Nigerian Movies). The last twenty hours of our trip were rather dramatic but minus the post election violence.
We spent the earlier part of Friday running errands in the bustling Nairobi; a thing that drove me into an internet café to punch-in to the home folks that Kenya was back on its feet. I was using this key board that was minus letter ‘U’, no wonder this was the only free computer in the stuffy room.
We shortly returned to the house we were staying to pick our bags and bid farewell , but like the biblical Abraham and the three visitors, our host could not let us go without having a meal, something she fixed in a dash though I would have gladly missed that part out.
My colleague Fred, made this prayer-of-the-year like he was going to ignite his own car back to Kampala, I still appreciate it because I might not need another one like it in a long time especially before meals. Just like I was ready to fly out of the house our host offered to give us lift to the main road for a taxi.
East African matatu drivers seem to be born of the same woman, eve or mama Cain. We literally “flew” over Langata road, accompanied with sound blast fit for any given discotheque, before coming to a sudden halt of a traffic jam. The driver was like he was aware of our fate; he somehow got us of the snakey mess but only to a more unfamiliar part of Nairobi jungle. Thirty minutes past our check-in-time, we were yet to figure out where our bus terminal was.
Thanks to my scanty Swahili coupled with some little English and body language we got our way out only to be told to pick a cab that would carry us to the central police for a final check before boarding the bus.
I could not wait to have a nap when I realized that now am out of Nairobi waking up intervals of police road blocks one after another, as we also went deeper into the rift valley like we were about to hit the devil’s mantle.
Coming out of the valley through the mother of potholes somewhere close to Kericho town we were woken to a rude stop together with 15 other buses; Thugs had blocked the way and went on rampage robbing passengers one bus after another of money, phones, anything loose, and also roughening them up.
It took me a little while to comprehend the whole situation, I wanted to make sure that I was not in a movie theater seeing the bold guy come to my seat and asking for pesa na simu (money and phone) I handed them to him like I had no use for them, he thanked me with a slap at-least before going to the next client. They left our bus having instilled fear in us that they would come back any moment a few minutes the plunder these guys sped off!
After the realization that these fellows had left, our bus drivers gathered guts and continued all the way to Busia and Kampala. Touching the Ugandan soil felt like jumping out of fire to freedom, more broke than ever, gladly I am recovering from the shock and slowly coming to terms with the whole adventure of the last 20 hours.
God bless!
We spent the earlier part of Friday running errands in the bustling Nairobi; a thing that drove me into an internet café to punch-in to the home folks that Kenya was back on its feet. I was using this key board that was minus letter ‘U’, no wonder this was the only free computer in the stuffy room.
We shortly returned to the house we were staying to pick our bags and bid farewell , but like the biblical Abraham and the three visitors, our host could not let us go without having a meal, something she fixed in a dash though I would have gladly missed that part out.
My colleague Fred, made this prayer-of-the-year like he was going to ignite his own car back to Kampala, I still appreciate it because I might not need another one like it in a long time especially before meals. Just like I was ready to fly out of the house our host offered to give us lift to the main road for a taxi.
East African matatu drivers seem to be born of the same woman, eve or mama Cain. We literally “flew” over Langata road, accompanied with sound blast fit for any given discotheque, before coming to a sudden halt of a traffic jam. The driver was like he was aware of our fate; he somehow got us of the snakey mess but only to a more unfamiliar part of Nairobi jungle. Thirty minutes past our check-in-time, we were yet to figure out where our bus terminal was.
Thanks to my scanty Swahili coupled with some little English and body language we got our way out only to be told to pick a cab that would carry us to the central police for a final check before boarding the bus.
I could not wait to have a nap when I realized that now am out of Nairobi waking up intervals of police road blocks one after another, as we also went deeper into the rift valley like we were about to hit the devil’s mantle.
Coming out of the valley through the mother of potholes somewhere close to Kericho town we were woken to a rude stop together with 15 other buses; Thugs had blocked the way and went on rampage robbing passengers one bus after another of money, phones, anything loose, and also roughening them up.
It took me a little while to comprehend the whole situation, I wanted to make sure that I was not in a movie theater seeing the bold guy come to my seat and asking for pesa na simu (money and phone) I handed them to him like I had no use for them, he thanked me with a slap at-least before going to the next client. They left our bus having instilled fear in us that they would come back any moment a few minutes the plunder these guys sped off!
After the realization that these fellows had left, our bus drivers gathered guts and continued all the way to Busia and Kampala. Touching the Ugandan soil felt like jumping out of fire to freedom, more broke than ever, gladly I am recovering from the shock and slowly coming to terms with the whole adventure of the last 20 hours.
God bless!
Saturday, May 10, 2008
wanderers!
Friday, February 01, 2008
out-of-the-boat
"Those that seek Me early shall find Me." Proverbs 8:17
Each Monday evening I have the priviledge of teaching some young souls, the Bible
there is something atleast that amuses me and keeps me going for another week:
when doing the Closing Activities of the class, a kid asked me with concern
"Teacher whats your tribe?" knowing whats going on in Kenya todate I laughed it off!
it is such times that I call the cheecky moment!
John beheaded! Jesus feeds 5000! man walks on water!
Our lesson was from Matthew 14
what a scary day, yet full of surprses; if you read newspapers off the street the way I sometimes do, you would share some of my sentiments.
Seing Peter walk on water that short distance was surprising in itself but also reminds me of Gods love and how far I am yet to go,When Peter began to really sink, God was present, and there to save him despite his little faith. my wish is that I may take a little step further.
Those guys that stayed in the boat were real faithfuls like I was.
I would rather sink with God in sight than stay in a boat that led to no where noteworthy, My prayer request is that I may stay afloat for as long as it takes.
I guess you know your whereabouts, dont you? Jesus too walked on water!
am out of the boat!
God bless
Each Monday evening I have the priviledge of teaching some young souls, the Bible
there is something atleast that amuses me and keeps me going for another week:
when doing the Closing Activities of the class, a kid asked me with concern
"Teacher whats your tribe?" knowing whats going on in Kenya todate I laughed it off!
it is such times that I call the cheecky moment!
John beheaded! Jesus feeds 5000! man walks on water!
Our lesson was from Matthew 14
what a scary day, yet full of surprses; if you read newspapers off the street the way I sometimes do, you would share some of my sentiments.
Seing Peter walk on water that short distance was surprising in itself but also reminds me of Gods love and how far I am yet to go,When Peter began to really sink, God was present, and there to save him despite his little faith. my wish is that I may take a little step further.
Those guys that stayed in the boat were real faithfuls like I was.
I would rather sink with God in sight than stay in a boat that led to no where noteworthy, My prayer request is that I may stay afloat for as long as it takes.
I guess you know your whereabouts, dont you? Jesus too walked on water!
am out of the boat!
God bless
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Hush a bye baby!
SEA! Safari East Africa Atlast comes to an end enroute Nairobi,
the SEA journey, started out tough with a bus breakdown at Jinja town, just a two hours drive from Kampala.
we spent alittle over 2 days in the antiquating town just after few verbal exchanges between the bus operators and the "abilias" passengers
after the long bus trek crossing boarders we at a long last touched the Moshi ground welcomed with another round of tansport cultural shock. The scandinavia company bus fellows decided to leave us part way before reaching our final destination making board the lastic Tanzanian matatus. these things never fill up whatever the number. We could grasp the idea of boarding an already full mini-bus till some kind Ugandan a resident of Moshi told us "it is the way taxis operate here", lucky an empty one came onto the scene and rescued the situation.
Our Moshi hosts came for us and we were distributed in different homes, for the first time in three days I had to sleep with my legs well streched. The party seemed to have just began, we started visiting from one home to another, one site to another, Charles, Phil, Mwalimu Dhudha, took us around moshi town, visited with the orphange, dined, and guys made a messy mural on the wall with all hands in it!
In all Moshi was simply a blessing.
Dont cRy FOR mE taNzAnia!
We had to leave town and head back home aboard the Akamba Bus Co. spend a few days in Nairobi and finally go to the city with numerous hills, calm and chaos. That was our plan but God intended otherwise; reaching Namanga boarder post of Kenya and Tanzania, we were told that we cannot go to Nairobi that night following the election violence in Kenya, Lord we were yet to spend another night in the stationery bus before we were finally allowed to move to Nairobi.
Just God's Grace
By the time we arrived in Nairobi the mood in the town was gloomy and the airs smoky, mean fellows in the name of GSU police foot patrolling and a few others on horses, kind of not minding our presence there, who cares anyway we quickly boarded a city Matatu out of the towerly streets, and headed for the outskirts in Nairobi west. Our confused faces about the the whole situation made folks there think we had lost the elections.
boy! we know where we put our ballot papers when the need comes.
our area was relatively calm, and business unsual we could still buy food and other supplies and also snooze like the world was ours, in the meantime TV pictures were all gloomy and shocking; news of burning properties, looters, and the looted kept on flashing the Kenyan TV stations minute by minute, but on our part it was business unsual, we still visited the animal park and different parts of the city, we also had the previlledge of having (BSF International) Bible Study Fellowship in Nairobi class.
We were certainly depressed by the fact that we could not cross back Uganda at our will since western part of Kenya was virtually burning up. our patience was readily tested kept on checking with our transporter on the possibilities of travel till finally all became calm. Nice the good news came one sunday afternoon that it was now safe for us to travel to "biblical promised land" but still had to wait for another two days. Just wait the reception at the bus terminal kept on echoing to the different inquiries; we did just that till that Wednesday morning when we sailed out smoky free from the ghostly city.
George my host and myself, braved to the city center to visit with the several Ugandans who were stranded at the bus terminal and to also try to get some assistance from the Ugandan embassy, we couldn't get any significant help, so on our back home we ran into a scuffle between the police and the rioters, it was like the climax of the party, as some policeman told us to raise our hands others were telling us to go back and others to God who knows. but gladly we found our way through the ghostly railway and the industrial area and finally made it back.
East or west!
It is no doubt Kampala is best, happy Boda Boda motor-cyclists were eager to receive us aboard Akamba Bus and take us anywhere we wished to go for a fee ofcourse! phew worried hearts settled. I could not wait to taste the Ugandan coffee and unskimmed millk and also lay down with all my legs outstreched.
Do still want to be on SEA! see you next time.
the SEA journey, started out tough with a bus breakdown at Jinja town, just a two hours drive from Kampala.
we spent alittle over 2 days in the antiquating town just after few verbal exchanges between the bus operators and the "abilias" passengers
after the long bus trek crossing boarders we at a long last touched the Moshi ground welcomed with another round of tansport cultural shock. The scandinavia company bus fellows decided to leave us part way before reaching our final destination making board the lastic Tanzanian matatus. these things never fill up whatever the number. We could grasp the idea of boarding an already full mini-bus till some kind Ugandan a resident of Moshi told us "it is the way taxis operate here", lucky an empty one came onto the scene and rescued the situation.
Our Moshi hosts came for us and we were distributed in different homes, for the first time in three days I had to sleep with my legs well streched. The party seemed to have just began, we started visiting from one home to another, one site to another, Charles, Phil, Mwalimu Dhudha, took us around moshi town, visited with the orphange, dined, and guys made a messy mural on the wall with all hands in it!
In all Moshi was simply a blessing.
Dont cRy FOR mE taNzAnia!
We had to leave town and head back home aboard the Akamba Bus Co. spend a few days in Nairobi and finally go to the city with numerous hills, calm and chaos. That was our plan but God intended otherwise; reaching Namanga boarder post of Kenya and Tanzania, we were told that we cannot go to Nairobi that night following the election violence in Kenya, Lord we were yet to spend another night in the stationery bus before we were finally allowed to move to Nairobi.
Just God's Grace
By the time we arrived in Nairobi the mood in the town was gloomy and the airs smoky, mean fellows in the name of GSU police foot patrolling and a few others on horses, kind of not minding our presence there, who cares anyway we quickly boarded a city Matatu out of the towerly streets, and headed for the outskirts in Nairobi west. Our confused faces about the the whole situation made folks there think we had lost the elections.
boy! we know where we put our ballot papers when the need comes.
our area was relatively calm, and business unsual we could still buy food and other supplies and also snooze like the world was ours, in the meantime TV pictures were all gloomy and shocking; news of burning properties, looters, and the looted kept on flashing the Kenyan TV stations minute by minute, but on our part it was business unsual, we still visited the animal park and different parts of the city, we also had the previlledge of having (BSF International) Bible Study Fellowship in Nairobi class.
We were certainly depressed by the fact that we could not cross back Uganda at our will since western part of Kenya was virtually burning up. our patience was readily tested kept on checking with our transporter on the possibilities of travel till finally all became calm. Nice the good news came one sunday afternoon that it was now safe for us to travel to "biblical promised land" but still had to wait for another two days. Just wait the reception at the bus terminal kept on echoing to the different inquiries; we did just that till that Wednesday morning when we sailed out smoky free from the ghostly city.
George my host and myself, braved to the city center to visit with the several Ugandans who were stranded at the bus terminal and to also try to get some assistance from the Ugandan embassy, we couldn't get any significant help, so on our back home we ran into a scuffle between the police and the rioters, it was like the climax of the party, as some policeman told us to raise our hands others were telling us to go back and others to God who knows. but gladly we found our way through the ghostly railway and the industrial area and finally made it back.
East or west!
It is no doubt Kampala is best, happy Boda Boda motor-cyclists were eager to receive us aboard Akamba Bus and take us anywhere we wished to go for a fee ofcourse! phew worried hearts settled. I could not wait to taste the Ugandan coffee and unskimmed millk and also lay down with all my legs outstreched.
Do still want to be on SEA! see you next time.
Friday, September 28, 2007
whats on? Step out safari
/>Kampala, Nairobi, Mombasa, Dar es salam, Moshi, NAIROBI, KAMPALA <>
We are getting back on road, this Christmas season
come Decemeber 21 to 2 January 2008
Sharing the Joy of the seasons with the rest of communities in East Africa
visiting in the midst of the season is only a humble gift we can give to the communinities way.
If you can SUPPORT this cause through the purchase hand-made greeting cards, to help us raise adquate funds for supplies, each purchase adds a smile to someone this Christmas holiday.
All proceeds go for this cause.
here a few samples
We are getting back on road, this Christmas season
come Decemeber 21 to 2 January 2008
Sharing the Joy of the seasons with the rest of communities in East Africa
visiting in the midst of the season is only a humble gift we can give to the communinities way.
If you can SUPPORT this cause through the purchase hand-made greeting cards, to help us raise adquate funds for supplies, each purchase adds a smile to someone this Christmas holiday.
All proceeds go for this cause.
here a few samples
Thursday, September 06, 2007
SethS sweethearts
Above: Seths' Sweethearts at the Babies' home - Kampala
Umuco, A Burundi cultural troupe in Kampala
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Candle-light-stories!
Never say Die; little angel Lowi lives on.
In a small village a couple of miles away from Uganda's Capital city, Kampala a bell rang and the whole school was plunged into a loud roar in a manner of a great relief.
For some reason the school closed earlier than usual so there was good time for the boys to play some soccer game at the church yard before retiring to their homes.
Richard, the game's architecture put final touches to the banana fiber woven ball and dashed his little out weight out and others followed straight to the grounds. A few preparations were made; goalposts were improvised with their school bags and shoes, they divided into two teams and the game soon started.
It was a like a beehive of some sort, either side attacking trying to score a winning goal before dusk blows the timeout whistle. The ball finely landed to Kaye; He was this stout but short guy, obviously a little older than the rest of the boys with a seemingly inflated rounded feet. He had the command of the game and flare, the kind every girl would scream for in a competitive match. He pulled the ball with his left foot to the right and shot past the goal line into the bush.
Shouts and joy of scoring the winning goal faded steadily as the golden East African sun sunk deeper into the horizons. "Where is the ball?" they all asked. The boys dashed into the bushy grassland and scavenged for the ball but to no avail.
It would take awhile before another was made; it takes rolling a few fibers tightly and then finely woven with a thin layer of strings.
As the boys were giving up each beginning to take a different direction for home, one of them shouted calling them back; he had seen something strange that terrified him so much that he could not talk but point to the direction of the mango tree just close by.
The boys moved closer to see what might be the cause of this alarm, suddenly they saw a lady's bag lying next to the tree trunk. It shook itself a little and then a little more. This frightened even the worms in their little bellies and all shouted for help.
The village people gathered in response to the alarm, armed with sticks machetes, and lamps. Some thought it was the beast that had been terrorizing their fowls for along time so they came to show it, what they are made others thought it was the mystical cannibal they had heard of in the neighboring village this would also be an opportunity to end that story.
They got closer to the scene and this time the bag shook even harder as if it also wanted to know what was happening. Black ants had scattered all over the ground meanwhile the red ants had started eating away part of the sisal bag and were building a mound around it.
One elder Mukaya, who was known for his prolific hunting skills and prowess as a youth, stepped in amidst mixed feelings and fears braving the ants and any other barrier. Mukaya called for more light and started examining the kicking bag like he was the village's forensic expert.
Amidst the dark vacuumed polythene bag, carefully placed in the sisal bag little Lowi defied death, probably just few days after his birth. Perhaps the cruel mother never thought that the little angel would never see the light and face of earth. Ran in his granny's courtyard, play juvenile football like the other children, or perhaps grow into a man who would fight for the liberty of the other.
The villagers rescued Lowi with a few sores on his back, probably left with only a few more hours before he bids this world adieu but survived.
DEDICATION:
To all my fellow Kampala Needy Kids Volunteers and supporters.
Tears have little or no healing
Fears will only derail the way,
Hope, Courage, and Faith
Will drive us home!
God Bless you all.
I meant harm, no tears or fears.
This little story is only a fiction
based on my daily encounters
in walk and work
It would be unjust to let
them just lie in my uppers
yet the world needs them.
In a small village a couple of miles away from Uganda's Capital city, Kampala a bell rang and the whole school was plunged into a loud roar in a manner of a great relief.
For some reason the school closed earlier than usual so there was good time for the boys to play some soccer game at the church yard before retiring to their homes.
Richard, the game's architecture put final touches to the banana fiber woven ball and dashed his little out weight out and others followed straight to the grounds. A few preparations were made; goalposts were improvised with their school bags and shoes, they divided into two teams and the game soon started.
It was a like a beehive of some sort, either side attacking trying to score a winning goal before dusk blows the timeout whistle. The ball finely landed to Kaye; He was this stout but short guy, obviously a little older than the rest of the boys with a seemingly inflated rounded feet. He had the command of the game and flare, the kind every girl would scream for in a competitive match. He pulled the ball with his left foot to the right and shot past the goal line into the bush.
Shouts and joy of scoring the winning goal faded steadily as the golden East African sun sunk deeper into the horizons. "Where is the ball?" they all asked. The boys dashed into the bushy grassland and scavenged for the ball but to no avail.
It would take awhile before another was made; it takes rolling a few fibers tightly and then finely woven with a thin layer of strings.
As the boys were giving up each beginning to take a different direction for home, one of them shouted calling them back; he had seen something strange that terrified him so much that he could not talk but point to the direction of the mango tree just close by.
The boys moved closer to see what might be the cause of this alarm, suddenly they saw a lady's bag lying next to the tree trunk. It shook itself a little and then a little more. This frightened even the worms in their little bellies and all shouted for help.
The village people gathered in response to the alarm, armed with sticks machetes, and lamps. Some thought it was the beast that had been terrorizing their fowls for along time so they came to show it, what they are made others thought it was the mystical cannibal they had heard of in the neighboring village this would also be an opportunity to end that story.
They got closer to the scene and this time the bag shook even harder as if it also wanted to know what was happening. Black ants had scattered all over the ground meanwhile the red ants had started eating away part of the sisal bag and were building a mound around it.
One elder Mukaya, who was known for his prolific hunting skills and prowess as a youth, stepped in amidst mixed feelings and fears braving the ants and any other barrier. Mukaya called for more light and started examining the kicking bag like he was the village's forensic expert.
Amidst the dark vacuumed polythene bag, carefully placed in the sisal bag little Lowi defied death, probably just few days after his birth. Perhaps the cruel mother never thought that the little angel would never see the light and face of earth. Ran in his granny's courtyard, play juvenile football like the other children, or perhaps grow into a man who would fight for the liberty of the other.
The villagers rescued Lowi with a few sores on his back, probably left with only a few more hours before he bids this world adieu but survived.
DEDICATION:
To all my fellow Kampala Needy Kids Volunteers and supporters.
Tears have little or no healing
Fears will only derail the way,
Hope, Courage, and Faith
Will drive us home!
God Bless you all.
I meant harm, no tears or fears.
This little story is only a fiction
based on my daily encounters
in walk and work
It would be unjust to let
them just lie in my uppers
yet the world needs them.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
signs or sins
hey!
Er, its about time we got penworthy, folks are watching this space with keen interest, let me signout that kind of era this way;
a list of books that I would only read just for a living, try them out.
while in Kampala real wave with all five fingures stiffened up or else a bunch of guys will come your way.
I wonder how this one works out an agent gave me this tip; in case you have a cool property you want to sell off fast
start with NOT FOR SALE then Contanct addresses or SOLD with phone number or company logo, it will sell like a hot cake.
In case you intend an up country journey using a matatu, say a little prayer and then point heaven-words a taxi to your real desitiny may show up.
in case you are just having a walk and not going anywhere in particular point down-to-earth
a few will still bother you any.
till then! seth
Er, its about time we got penworthy, folks are watching this space with keen interest, let me signout that kind of era this way;
a list of books that I would only read just for a living, try them out.
- 1 Chronicles 1-9 ............Chronicler
- Darkness at noon .........Arthur Koestler
while in Kampala real wave with all five fingures stiffened up or else a bunch of guys will come your way.
I wonder how this one works out an agent gave me this tip; in case you have a cool property you want to sell off fast
start with NOT FOR SALE then Contanct addresses or SOLD with phone number or company logo, it will sell like a hot cake.
In case you intend an up country journey using a matatu, say a little prayer and then point heaven-words a taxi to your real desitiny may show up.
in case you are just having a walk and not going anywhere in particular point down-to-earth
a few will still bother you any.
till then! seth
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
SethS Paintings!
Here are some of my Pick of the Paintings
Average Size : 8"x 11"
Please let me know what you think.
the SON shines even brighter!
Fortunate not so!
Dance Africa!
Herds? Men?
Rythms Africa!
Old Jars of clay!
upon time!
...and so go forth brother!
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Another Day out
It is rare for me to go for a field day on a Tuesday, usually am touching up a few things . This time round a friend tipped me of a visiting American student who was doing his research on higher education in Uganda but wanted to see roots. I suggested my country village of Mende; why?
By a mere pressing of a few buttons, I was already touch with the relevant and off we went. As ever it is a nightmare moving out of this city where you have something little to do before you live, this time we had to fix Willi’s car before setting off, still optimistic we continued our way.
After a thirty minutes’ drive we got to the village which welcomed us with hilly beauty and the pink, purple, green school uniforms whose bearers must have been in lunch break.
The first school option that I had in mind was not the kind my guest wanted to see, I suggested we get to my grand’s place before we venture out elsewhere.
That sounded good and drove uphill where my mom and grandma were in busy harvest of ground nuts, something usual for me but also that impressed my guests.
My mom suggested a couple of other schools, we strolled down to one of them.
We were the unexpected guests to grace the enthusiastic school proprietor of Mirembe Primary school who took us around the newly constructed school with a population of about 50 pupils (that’s my guess).
You don’t need to pay this guy anything for him to volunteer the needed information; this guy had his profile well set like a first class PowerPoint presentation. With the history, of the area his pupils, school all at hand and how he was evicted from the previous rented premises to the current, we were fed on all this material in just about one hour.
Chris my reserved guest took a couple of picture while Willi my chauffer did most of the interviewing while I and Bernard looked on rather in awe.
Mende village, is like one of those unread novels stuck on the shelf, a lot has changed especially the people, my contemporaries seem to be another two decades older, and the social economic situation has gradually changed.
There is now a stone quarry industry that has sprung up replacing the traditional agricultural environment and also the cottage KANZU industry that was flourishing just about one decade ago.
In all that was my unusual Wednesday.
Till then.
By a mere pressing of a few buttons, I was already touch with the relevant and off we went. As ever it is a nightmare moving out of this city where you have something little to do before you live, this time we had to fix Willi’s car before setting off, still optimistic we continued our way.
After a thirty minutes’ drive we got to the village which welcomed us with hilly beauty and the pink, purple, green school uniforms whose bearers must have been in lunch break.
The first school option that I had in mind was not the kind my guest wanted to see, I suggested we get to my grand’s place before we venture out elsewhere.
That sounded good and drove uphill where my mom and grandma were in busy harvest of ground nuts, something usual for me but also that impressed my guests.
My mom suggested a couple of other schools, we strolled down to one of them.
We were the unexpected guests to grace the enthusiastic school proprietor of Mirembe Primary school who took us around the newly constructed school with a population of about 50 pupils (that’s my guess).
You don’t need to pay this guy anything for him to volunteer the needed information; this guy had his profile well set like a first class PowerPoint presentation. With the history, of the area his pupils, school all at hand and how he was evicted from the previous rented premises to the current, we were fed on all this material in just about one hour.
Chris my reserved guest took a couple of picture while Willi my chauffer did most of the interviewing while I and Bernard looked on rather in awe.
Mende village, is like one of those unread novels stuck on the shelf, a lot has changed especially the people, my contemporaries seem to be another two decades older, and the social economic situation has gradually changed.
There is now a stone quarry industry that has sprung up replacing the traditional agricultural environment and also the cottage KANZU industry that was flourishing just about one decade ago.
In all that was my unusual Wednesday.
Till then.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
SWORD Community Projects
The community is our business as well, we took time off to work at the
Orphanages,
very special thanks to all you who have backed us
in this cause.
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