How long? Not long. Cause what you reap is what you sow.

(10 points for anyone who can tell me where the title is from)

So yesterday I walked into a riot. It wasn’t on purpose, mind you. I was just taking my normal route to the taxi park where I catch my matatu home every day. As I began my walk, I noticed that there were far more people than usual going the opposite direction from me. As I continued walking, I quickly caught on that something was very out of the ordinary. People were leaving in droves from the direction of the taxi park and I was the only person walking toward it. I watched, bewildered. One man leaned down in my face and screamed, “He’s a dictator! He’s a thief!” I knew he was referring to Museveni (Uganda’s current president), and I quickly realized that Besigye (the opposition leader) had been arrested (and get this: on attempted rape charges from 1997). Then came lines and lines of honking cars and lorries and boda-bodas, with people shouting from the windows. I encountered some students I had met during the course of my research so we stopped by the side of the road to observe and figure out what was happening. All around us gates were slamming shut and doors were being locked. Then all the people were running, screaming. Then there was tear gas everywhere, and our eyes were burning, and we couldn’t breathe. At that point, I quickly made my way back to Uganda Crafts and watched as thousands of people fled the city center where Besigye’s supporters had begun burning cars and looting. It was mass confusion—civil unrest.

I can’t quite explain the tension in the air (or was it the tear gas?). Police were driving through the streets shooting into the air. Women were screaming and running for cover. Everyone was alarmed and anger was mounting against Museveni. People said things like, “This is proof that he’s a dictator!” and “What support he had left is demolished by this!” and “This is only the beginning.” In some ways, I was simply fascinated to observe how the situation and unrest grew—how one person’s fear incited another person’s terror or anger, how one person’s decision to run turned into hordes of fleeing people. Given, there is good reason to run from tear gas. The stuff is brutal. To me, it seemed the police were only making things worse by flying through the streets on trucks, wearing riot gear, shooting guns and throwing tear gas. They were trying to quell the violence of Besigye’s followers, but in their attempts to do so they poured fear into the city and created an environment ideal for looting, violence, and mass chaos.

Additionally, they shut off the telephone networks, and the electricity had been off for most of the day. I really began to wonder what it would be like to live in a dictatorship. I waited the chaos out at Uganda Crafts, where the entire city passed by since it was the only safe direction out. So from here, I got all the information about what was happening in the city center. As it turned out, the taxis were all striking (or too fearful to attempt their routes) so there was no chance of me making it out to Kitemu. The only logical option? Go to Sam’s, which happened to be in the safe direction of Wandegeya. I told him what had happened, and spent the night there, discussing the political situation in Uganda and watching (ironically) Fahrenheit 9/11.

This morning things seem to more calm, but there is no telling what is to come. About every hour many honking vehicles exit the city toward Wandegeya, probably avoiding blockades or tear gas. I am not afraid, but I will certainly be cautious. Don’t worry about me, but you could pray for me, and the situation in Kampala. Who knows, maybe they’ll release Besigye, maybe he’ll get a fair trial… or maybe Museveni will keep him in jail on trumped up charges and rig the upcoming election. My faith in M7 (Museveni) is quickly fading.

In other news, I have been visiting students in secondary schools for the past 2 weeks, a task which is very time-consuming and tiring—not to mention expensive! At the same time I have enjoyed being with the students and experiencing the dynamism that is present among them. My basic program is: show up at a school, introduce myself to the headmaster or director of studies, get introduced to the students, ask the teacher/headmaster to leave, talk to the students, hand out a questionnaire, hand out copies of StraightTalk newspapers. In my preparation of the students, I explain to them that I am a university student from the US carrying out research in Uganda in the area of sexuality and marriage. I tell them that the survey will cover some sensitive and/or embarrassing issues, but that the most important thing is to be honest. Their teachers will not read these surveys, I explain, it is only I who will read them. I tend to think I’m somewhat engaging in the way I speak to them, and it doesn’t hurt that I’m a young white girl. During the course of the survey when I stand in the front and wait to field students’ questions, I find them staring at me.

Overall, I have been pleased with their response to me and their willingness to ask questions. The most difficult times are when young girls approach me with questions about avoiding pregnancy or ask questions to which there is no answer. One girl came up to me after everyone else had left and quietly asked about how to count her “safe days”—i.e. those days during which it is least likely she will become pregnant. I told her that in reality, there is no such thing as a safe day, because every woman’s cycle is different and the safest thing to do is use a condom. This answer did not satisfy her, so I explained as much as I knew about ovulation, menstruation and the typical ranges of fertility during a woman’s cycle. The fact is that I didn’t know the real answer, so I told her I wasn’t sure and she should talk to a counselor or health worker. As expected, she told me that she couldn’t talk to anyone else because she wouldn’t feel comfortable and they could get her in trouble.

I left feeling guilty for not being able to answer her question more satisfactorily and for leaving so little time to actually answer students’ questions. My survey ends by asking what questions the student has about sexuality, their body, relationships, or anything. While some ask questions like, “Can I marry you?” most have legitimate, pressing questions that remain unanswered. While the purpose of my survey is to probe for gaps in the sexual education in Uganda so that others in the future can address the problem, I feel it is somewhat unethical to (can I say) exploit these young people for my own ends while leaving them with misconceptions (about how HIV is spread, about how one “loses his/her virginity,” etc) that could alter the course of their lives. Essentially, though I am not a sex educator, I feel responsible to do something for the young people I am encountering.

So I do what I can, answering the questions students ask me orally, and distributing copies of a newspaper called StraightTalk which educates adolescents about their bodies, relationships, health, spirituality, and—most prominently—HIV and AIDS. Since being in Uganda, I have been very impressed with the Straight Talk Foundation, the organization that produces these newspapers monthly as well as running a radio show, hosting clubs, etc. that aim to educate young people to view themselves and others in a healthy way. In every arena, I feel they do an excellent job of addressing relevant problems in a relevant way, taking a holistic approach, acknowledging the importance of faith, and urging students to make wise decisions. Their newspapers are free, and the latest issue—the one I have been handing out—addresses poverty and sexuality, explaining that poverty is no excuse to have sex.

One of the biggest problems regarding young people’s sexuality is just that: poverty and basic needs drive young women (and young men) into sexual relationships with older business-people who then pay their school fees, clothe them, and buy them the things they need to live. Everywhere there is talk of “sugar daddies and mummies,” with many young people admitting to being willing to engage in such a relationship to continue their schooling. As if the frequency of this practice wasn’t enough of a problem, its danger is heightened by the fact that old men desire young women/virgins who they believe to be uninfected with HIV. In reality, this exposes both young and old to the disease.

Things at home have been great. I have been enjoying Kuki a lot, and playing and dancing with the kids more than ever. Jjaaja has said many times that she feels I am her real granddaughter and that she is going to cry and cry when I leave. I have really come to love these people and I am not looking forward to leaving them, though there is a definite pull to reengage in my relationships at home. There are so many people I love in this world.

My parents are coming next week, and before then I have a lot to get done. Essentially, my internship is finished since Betty has released me to work full time on my research. As it turns out, I have needed all the time I can get for this project. I still go to the office almost every day, but the only day I really do work at Uganda Crafts is Fridays when the artisans come.

So, that’s my life in a nutshell.
I pray all is quiet on the western front.
Peace,
Emily