Home Visits

Stock photo of a Ugandan village road.

To a Nevadan, the village roads are perfect for off-roading: hard-packed red dirt, dusty, some rocks, filled with deep ruts and large holes, narrow, lined by bushes and trees and tall grass. In the village these streets are used by all vehicles: sedans, SUVs, trucks, bodas (small-engined motorcycles), and bikes. We spent a lot of time on these roads when we visited our incoming students' homes this past week. Driving them is not hard as long as you go slow.

Amazima admits only the most vulnerable students. The villages reflect the vulnerability. It is obvious to say that the most vulnerable homes are "primitive" by American standards. No plumbing, no electricity. A curtain serves as a front door and in some houses an interior wall. The floors may be covered by a mat or pieces of linoleum, or may be just uncovered dirt. Some homes would stand up better by American standards. They had multiple rooms, interior walls, and concrete floors.

Stock photo of Ugandan village homes

We did not take any photos while visiting these homes.  Too often in the past, well meaning short-term missionary groups have entered the villages, performed service projects, snapped many photos, and left. Muzungus (white people), pointing camera phones at people and buildings, do not create a good impression.

Our students are being raised by Maamas (a birth mother or aunt or other female relative) and Jjajas (grandparents, most typically a grandmother). Of the 21 students we met, we did not see a single father.  In almost all cases the dad was either dead or had abandoned the family. This is far too typical in Uganda. We were told details of only three dads. One was an alcoholic. The mother, the actual birth mother of our student, asked us to pray for her and his alcoholism. Another dad is suffering from an unspecified mental condition and we were asked to pray for this as well. The third had left the home to work. We were not told what work he does or where he went.

Though extremely vulnerable our students all have someone in their lives who loves them and does their best to try to care for them. Our students are shy around us. We are strangers, who speak too fast, too loud, and are impossible to understand. Our students are polite and respectful upon first meeting. They greet us, they shake our hand, they bow. Our students have done well in their examinations, some extremely well, and all are excited about coming to school at Amazima. Our students know each other. Many are from the same villages and have gone to the same primary school. Several times, the student we were visiting showed us the way to the next home on our list. At one time, four girls rode with us in the back as we went to each one of their homes.

Stock photo of shops on side of road in a Ugandan village

Our students are also terrified. Amazima school is not their village. They have never spent a night away from their home. We are not their Maama or Jjaja. We are muzungus. They speak English with varying degrees of proficiency. Some are near fluent, others just know some words and phrases. English is the required language at Amazima. Fortunately, we have Biti. Biti is our Ugandan partner and Godsend. She grew up in a village, she had to leave home to go to school, she has ministered to vulnerable young women who found themselves on the streets, surviving as prostitutes. Biti understands and cares deeply about our students.  Six of our students are being raised in Muslim homes. Biti was raised in a Muslim home. We thank God every day for Biti.

The Maamas and Jjajas of our students were all excited to see us. They treated us with honor and offered us generous hospitality. They are all excited that their children are going to Amazima. Last year, at this time, when Amazima was just opening, many of the students' caretakers had concerns about the school, whether it would survive, what the white people would be saying to their kids, and how it would affect their children's Ugandan education. When we visited, no such concerns existed. Last years' students returned to the villages at the term break. The students came back different. They were respectful, they willingly did their chores around the homes without complaining, they served in the villages. In short, the students reflected the sacrificial, servant attitude of Christ that they were being taught at Amazima. The caretakers saw the changes in the kids who came back at the break and they welcome a similar change for their own children.

Please pray for our new students. Pray for their fears and dreams and families. Pray for us. Pray that our American culture and standards would not get in the way of loving and caring for them as Christ loves and cares for them. Pray that our students' love for and trust of God would grow. Pray for their vulnerability and physical needs.

Sandra came to Uganda hoping to have the chance to hold babies. Last week she got her wish. At church on Sunday, two infants born in December were brought to the service by another family. The mother of the infants had died, we don't know how, and the Jjaja had taken them in. The twins were born underweight and under-nourished so the Jjaja gave them to a Christian ministry that would feed them well so they could grow and become healthy. They were brought to our church by one of the ladies who was involved in offering the well-baby care for the Jjaja. Sandra held the baby throughout the service. She cuddled him and loved on him. She prayed for him.

Sandra and baby

Unfortunately, Sandra learned that the baby died this past Thursday.

Sandra has made four new videos, showing the new construction taking place on campus. You can view the videos here at our youtube channel.