Trying to help

Do you believe in the providential hand of God in our lives? Although I'm a Christian, I'm hesitant to rush to attribute circumstances to the direct intervention of God. "It was meant to be" is not a phrase you will hear me utter casually. Nevertheless, we had an encouraging convergence of circumstances this weekend that just might get me to say it.

When my mom and brother were here in January, we took them to the Ngenge villages where Paul has his primary project to repair and replace broken wells. We spent a long day visiting various villages and seeing the work there. At the end of the day, when we were worn out and ready to get back to our guest house, Rev. David, the church of Uganda pastor who was translating for us and overseeing the work, said he needed to pick up some charcoal from his brother in a village further out. We drove at least another 45 minutes, in the opposite direction from home, to get to the village. I was crabby. This place hardly counted as a village. There were a handful of huts out in the middle of nowhere. While we were waiting for Rev. David to conduct his business, we noticed a man sitting on the ground on a cushion. Then we saw why. His legs didn't work. The man slowly began to make his way through the village, scooting on his rear end and pushing his useless legs in front of him. Although none of us said anything, we were transfixed and appalled. To spend your adult life on the ground, moving through the dirt - it seemed an unbearable way to live.

Later, when we were back to civilization, we talked about this. We all were concerned and wanted to try to do something. We asked Rev. David about the man, and he confirmed that it was a disease (polio?) that robbed him of the use of his legs, and said he was acquainted with the man. We began to look online for an organization that would provide a wheelchair in Uganda but only hit dead ends. I asked a friend of ours who has been a doctor in Uganda for many years, but he didn't know of any place to get one. There are no such things as medical supply stores here. We couldn't think of where else to turn. Then, when we were on our way to Jinja this weekend, on a whim Paul asked Farouk, our favorite driver (he's the one who took up a collection for us when we were out of money on our first safari) if he knew of anywhere to get a wheelchair. He said yes, he did, and in fact they were manufactured in Jinja, practically right across the street from where we were going. He took us there when we arrived in town, and we were able to sit right down with a worker and talk through options. She suggested that an adult disability trike would be better than a wheelchair, because it had space to carry things, so the person could perhaps begin to support himself financially by being able to transport, say, soda or clothing for sale. It could be ready in a week. Farouk, amazingly, offered to oversee transportation for us. Once the trike was ready he would travel to Jinja and have it loaded on a matatu, then travel with it the 5 hours to Kapchorwa, where Rev. David would meet him and take it from there.

Although this all seemed good, we hesitated. Westerners do so many good deeds with the best of intentions in Africa, and then they backfire. There are unintended negative consequences. We left the shop without making a decision because we wanted to talk both to Farouk and to our Jinja friends who grew up in Africa and understood the culture better than we did. Would people in the village be jealous of the man's gift? Would it get stolen? Break down? What could go wrong that we weren't thinking of? As we talked it through, both Farouk, and Phil and Emily, encouraged us that the potential benefit was worth the potential risk. I asked Farouk the question that had been bothering me since the day we saw this man: I understand that the villagers are poor, but why in the world had nobody done anything more for this man than get him a cushion? Families pull together to help each other in Africa. Couldn't they pool their resources to get him some wheels to attach to a board? How is it that he had had nothing done for him for years? Farouk's answer was basically that Africans often just don't think of it. There is a warm-heartedness in Westerners that Africans lack (mind you, this is a Ugandan telling me this). Even if the man's brother had money, he might spend it buying dresses for his wives rather than on his needy brother. Maybe if the man had voted for a politician then the politician would help him out as payback but not otherwise. These were Farouk's examples. We've seen Africans be generous with family or tribe members in need, but it wasn't happening here.

We went back the next day and ordered the trike. We'll contact Farouk when it's ready and he'll oversee transportation. We hope and pray that it will benefit the man. It was too hopeful an opportunity to pass up.