Everyone should have the opportunity to travel abroad. To witness the various ways that human beings survive in this world. To gain a different perspective.
There are two classes in Uganda, the rich and the poor. Those that are born into money continue to build wealth by constructing yet another beautiful high-rise building or starting a new company. Those that are born into poverty remain on the floor cleaning the dirt left behind. In many circumstances, it's not out of laziness or lack of effort. Many Ugandans are determined to make a better life for themselves and their families, but even honesty, integrity, and hard work isn't enough to break them out of poverty.
I was headed to the airport to pick up one of my dearest friends of all times. I asked the taxi driver, Sam, how many children he has. "2" was his response. He then stated, "My wife and I would like more but it's very complicated". Sam drives an ambulance during the day and is a taxi driver at night. In total, he earns less than $700/month. This allows him to just barely afford the fees for school tuition, uniforms, and transport for his two children. Unfortunately, his responsibilities go far beyond taking care of just his immediate family, and working two jobs doesn't cut it.
There is a saying in Uganda that a dead man has no children. In the case that a father passes away, the oldest son is responsible for the support of his siblings. If he is too young, the responsibility falls into the lap of the late fathers oldest brother. There is no word for cousin or aunt/ uncle in Lugandan, rather they would be called brother/sister or mother/father, respectively.
Sam's, brother passed away from AIDS two years ago. He left behind the 9 children that he had with 7 different women. (Polygamy is widely practiced in Uganda, making it common for a man to father 20-30 children in his lifetime.) The children’s mothers were all illiterate and sold small trinkets to try and make a few shillings, but they could afford to support themselves or their children. The responsibility of seven families fell on the lap of Sam. During the rainy season, there is a greater demand for taxi services, which gives his new children the opportunity to go to school. But when the sun is shining bright, as it usually is, the need for taxi services plummet, and Sam can barely feed these children, nonetheless send them to school. It’s been three semesters since his children have step foot in a classroom . He laughs as he tells me he does a rain dance on a nightly basis, praying that his taxi service will once again pick up business.
As Sam tells me his story, he speaks with confidence and gives me straight facts, never falling into the role of being a victim. This is his life. This is the life of so many Ugandans. He expresses his gratitude for his wife and the health of his 11 children. He smiles as he speaks of the possibility of sending them to school the next term. "God knows I'm doing my best", he states.
As we pull up to my home-stay I ask him the cost of the taxi ride, “30,000 Ugandan Shillings” he replies. “Half price for you because you are here doing the work of God. Thank you for helping our women.”
Even as they fight for their own children to prosper, their generosity is endless.