Torn

There is a young lady I know, Catherine, that has become a close friend. After siring 6 children by one wife, her father married a second wife, who bore him another 7 children. He neglected the first wife's children and allowed his second wife to chase them away from the home. My friend, at the tender age of 13, was thrown out of the home. She subsequently left school and went to work as a maid, where she was routinely abused. She contracted HIV.
Two years later, a priest heard about her plight, had her connected with the hospital, and sponsored her stay in school. She is now becoming a nurse and is healthy and productive. Her father is now trying to re- establish his relationship with her and ask her for money.

This story is so typical that I am almost bored typing it. Any Peace Corps volunteer would be bored to read it. It is the story not only of Catherine but of half of the children I run across and many of those seeking sponsorships.

I love Catherine herself and want the best for her: from that perspective I am happy she was sponsored by some white person somewhere.
There are millions of parents, however, like her father. They just have children and believe that a muzungu somewhere will care for them. As long as this keeps happening, nothing changes.
And what happens to the role of the government and civil society when foreigners continue to support inadequate institutions and policies instead of allowing Ugandans to challenge their own institutions?

I am torn. Every day, these questions come up in a million ways. From, should I help with the money for doing X at the school? Yes there is no money, but the parents don't send money because they think the sisters have a lucrative muzungu connection. To, should I sponsor so and so when I leave? She is a good girl, great student, but her parents should also have some part in it.

The easy solutions are the worst: 1. Those poor Africans! I want to care for them! Who made you the mother or father of these people? Do you really want all these adults to act like children? That is disempowerment, that is paternalism.

2. Hot mess-- these people have to get it together, I'm out! The second is my present inclination.

I remember, however, how I have been helped in my own life. A very good friend has never given me money but she pushed me to do all I can and to "be all I can be." In fact, she made me apply for the Peace Corps in the first place. She is now on my neck for completing what I need to do. When she found out about the medical school dream, we had a planning session of how to bring it to reality. Does she belittle me? No. Does she do the easy thing and throw money? Never. This, however, is a personal relationship; requiring mentoring, time, advice, and, at times, calling me out. That is what we do as Peace Corps Volunteers. Try to befriend, try to be a part, try to bring out the best in the other. My best role for donations/ aid when I go home will probably again be these personal relationships. Becoming a big sister or friend to a parent-less American youth and keeping in touch with friends from Uganda-- these mundane, time consuming personal connections are the ones that matter.

Secondly, as one priest reminded me, those parents giving birth to 10 or more children are uneducated. My friend Catherine, for example, despite her parents' decisions, will not have many kids. In the end, despite my qualms, school sponsorships are the best forms of aid that I have seen. When I go home to the US, I will have positive comments about many school sponsorship programs in Uganda. I know a young lady that I am thinking of sponsoring for education when I leave as well. She has never asked for money, but I know her parents recently died. She is also a hard worker, a former student of mine, and consistently first in her class. I don't pity her-- I want to be a part of where this great lady is going!