Since Monday, March 5, the film KONY 2012 has gone viral on the Internet with, as of this writing, more than 64 MILLION views. Also promoted under the name "Visible Children,” the film depicts the atrocities committed by Joseph Kony, the leader of the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) over the last 30 years, mostly in Uganda, and urges viewers around the world to push their governments to find this man and bring him to justice.
The exploits of the LRA were documented in a film called Invisible Children, produced by the same people and shown to thousands of high school kids around the world. The film generated millions of dollars in donations.
But the LRA was put out of business in Uganda in 2006. And the film is still being shown.
In my opinion, this film – KONY 2012 – is the sequel, the next attempt to exploit young and naïve people to join a cause that needs no joining. The premise is that by making Kony famous and taking to the streets, somehow the UN will step up efforts to capture Kony and bring him before the International Criminal Court in The Hague. The film producers claim that their efforts are responsible for the U.S. sending 100 special forces troops to Uganda to help in the capture of Kony.
First, let me say the film is brilliantly done. And the producers’ ability to promote their product/cause is just possibly the most astounding and inspiring piece of work this old promoter has ever seen in his lifetime.
But here’s the problem with this thing: The premise of “the movement” is that if you get enough people yelling in the streets, the problem will be solved by somebody. If that worked, why wouldn't we have millions in the streets yelling for world peace?
But wait, there’s more. The producer keeps saying Uganda, Uganda, Uganda when referring to Kony. Kony hasn’t been in Uganda since 2006. If you access the producer’s Kony-Finder, you see the rebel has operated throughout central Africa in at least four countries. HE ISN’T IN UGANDA! When pushed by an NBC interviewer today, he admitted Kony is believed to have less than 200 followers. “Soldiers…” he corrected. “And that’s 200 abducted children…” he added. Last reports were Kony is living like an animal in the jungle with 200 ragged followers. THEY ARE BARELY SURVIVING… NOT ABDUCTING CHILDREN. And finally, it has been reported only 32% of the NINE MILLION DOLLARS collected so far on this project goes to help Kony’s victims. The producer says, “Oh, we have a different model of charity… it’s message, movie, mobilization.” What the heck is that? IT’S NOT A CHARITY.
This whole thing sounds like the perpetrator is on an adrenaline high funding a movement just to make noise and, well, line his pockets. As long as Kony isn’t caught, the movement continues to stir the hearts of young people and naïve celebrities like Angelina Jolie, Oprah Winfrey and Justin Bieber and generate donations. And if Kony is caught? I wouldn’t be surprised if the film goes on for years.
Maybe you are stirred by the message. I think it’s a brilliant, brilliant scam.
You read my piece on street kids in Kabale. That was the problem. Here is the solution. His name is Patrick Tushabomwe and this man is dedicated to getting every street kid off the streets of Kabale. Estimates are there are only 95 of them so the goal is achieveable but the work will not be easy.
On January 4, Patrick opened The Shepherd Centre in Kabale town, in a rented house, and in the presence of board members, supporters, government officials and clergy. It was a great event, particularly because there are 14 young boys under his care. The facility offers housing, counseling, parenting. The kids get to go to school. It’s a good start.
Patrick’s heart was broken for street kids more than five years ago. He started seeking them out just to let the kids know someone cared. He provided soap and some food for them at Christmas. He learned where they stay, how they live, and began to understand the family situations that would cause them to be tossed onto the streets. Even while he underwent intense discipleship and evangelism training in the ABIDE program for Juna Amagara Ministries, he thought of the kids in Kabale. Even while he earned his bachelor’s degree, Patrick planned facilities for the kids.
Eventually he found some backers from the U.S. who caught the passion and now Shepherd Centre can provide safe shelter, parental love and discipline AND reconciliation services for families. None of this easy or cheap but great progress has been made. The goal? Zero street kids in Kabale. However long it takes. Whatever it takes. That’s what Patrick says and I believe him.
To support to The Shepherd Centre, click HERE. Check them out on Facebook HERE.
It is a simple fact of life in Uganda that not all children go to high school. It is something of a miracle that they go to primary school thanks to a program put into place in the mid-1990s called Universal Public Education. Funded by a one billion dollar grant (1.7 trillion Uganda shillings), the program ensured schools would be built and staffed throughout the country. That was done, yet today, there is a shortage of qualified teachers and class sizes are huge, up to 150 kids per class.
To go beyond primary school requires fees which are often not available, and qualified test scores from the students. Even if parents can come up with the fees, with such large class sizes, the learning level is low and most children do not qualify. Therefore, the end of Primary School is a celebration. It is a day when parents say, “Yay, you made it! Good luck; you’re on your own now– go tend the goats.”
Yet, in the hills of Kishanje Highlands in the far southwest corner of the country, something of a phenomenon occurs at the end of the term. Kids in the New Times Primary School kids almost ALL qualify for secondary school. Why is this? Classes are small, teachers are better than average and there are mentors to help kids with homework. These kids can all realistically look forward to earning an “A” (advanced) level placement in secondary school (See Ritah in her new maroon A-sweater). Many will go to university on a government scholarship.
So here are the kids of Kishanje, proud to parade down the hill in their miniature caps and gowns. Primary school is behind. Now the hard work begins.
Many have forgotten the flap a couple of years ago when a Member of Parliament in Uganda proposed severe penalties for homosexual acts. You can read that background HERE.
While the subject has been back burner in the world media, those who push the gay agenda have been persistent. This week’s survey of local news in Uganda tells the story.
In October, Mr David Cameron U.K Prime Minister said publicly that “infringement on gay rights is one of the things that determine the country’s aid policy…” clearly threatening that foreign aid from the U.K. to Uganda is to be tied to the latter’s gay policies.
A few days later, Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe chimed in: “Cameron’s gay talk is diabolical,” he said. The President has threatened to mete severe punishment against gays for their behaviour, which he said is inconsistent with African and Christian values. He attacked British Prime Minister David Cameron for threatening to withdraw aid to African countries that did not embrace homosexuality, calling him ‘Satanic’.
Homosexuality is a serious issue in East Africa. It is not acceptable on any level. When will the West leave those countries alone to deal with it on their own terms?... wait, I know, when they become economically independent and are not tempted to take aid with gay strings attached.
After more than seven years hard labor (well, three years hard labor and four years wondering how to put it together) I’ve just received copies of my new book on Uganda called They Call Me Mzee: One Man’s Safari into Brightest Africa.
Called “a remarkable story of discovery,” the book charts the cultural and spiritual ife of present-day Uganda. Part memoir, part travelogue and part investigative report, the reader will learn about how the AIDS epidemic started in Uganda and spread throughout Africa. And, how Uganda is still the only nation in Africa to have arrested the disease. The report talks about the huge faith life of Ugandans, where it came from and what it means. There is much discussion from a personal perspective about the plight of orphans and how ministries, the government and the church are dealing with the ever-growing problem.
Most importantly, it is my personal story of discovering a place where faith underlies all. The people I meet, the visitors I take to Uganda and the lessons we have for each other are insightful, surprising.
Anyone who has been to Uganda, who is planning to go to Uganda or who supports the work in Uganda should read this book. You will laugh, you will cry and you will learn something of Africa you have never seen anywhere.
On September 4, 2011, two young, well-educated California men will begin a journey in Cape Town South Africa that will take them more than 8,000 miles up the spine of Africa to Cairo and then on to Jerusalem. They’re doing it for the adventure. They’re doing it on Honda XR 400 dirt bikes. They’re also doing it to raise funds to build the Juna Amagara New Times Primary School in Kishanje, Uganda. The event is called RideAmagara: Africa 2011. And you can learn more if you click HERE.
The riders are Nolan Gallagher, a small-town big-sky boy turned professional baseball player for the Seattle Mariners. A graduate of Stanford University, Nolan has given up baseball and when he returns from Africa, he’ll be studying for a degree in physical therapy. Stephen “Brownie” Brown is a missionary kid who’s lived all over the world. Also a graduate of Stanford, Stephen worked in corporate America after graduation but has decided, upon his return from Africa, to enter medical school.
Over approximately four months, the adventurers will cross borders into 12 countries: South Africa, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Tanzania, Burundi, Rwanda, Uganda, Kenya, Ethiopa, Sudan, Egypt and Israel. Their only plan is to make it before Christmas. There is no detailed road map. Accommodations are the tents on their backs. There is no support van. I don’t think there’s room for extra fuel. But they are equipped with Bibles. And immortal youth.
What, are they nuts?
There are no Interstate highways on this route. What about breakdowns? What about spare parts? What about hostile territory? What about pirates? What about those long lonely stretches of savannah where there are no people, only warthogs? What about all the different languages? What about the Sept/Oct rainy season? What will they eat? How will they protect themselves at night in a tent in the middle of nowhere? What about border crossings with surly and professionally uncooperative bureaucrats? Did we mention men with spears? Roaming bands of Arabic slavers? Tsetse flies, boa constrictors, thorny bushes, roads rutted like canyons?
Only the riders know the answers to these questions. And certainly they have thought about all of these things, right?
Meanwhile, Nolan and Brownie are asking for people to support the humanitarian reason for this ride. The goal? Raise $200,000 to finish a primary school and dormitory that will serve the needs of more than 500 children. As you’ll see on their website, the riders are seeking corporate sponsors, but also individuals who can pledge $ per mile traveled – or support for a rider – or just a donation. This is a worthy goal, as children in Uganda crave education and need it to survive. The best kept secret in Africa is… the solution to overpopulation AND poverty is education. This school will play a major part in all those roles. Currently operating in rented buildings, New Times students regularly rank in the top percentile of all students in Uganda. With improved facilities and dormitories, these Juna Amagara orphan children will blossom into outstandingly productive adults.
Nolan and Brownie are carrying a PocketFinder GPS locator so we can all follow them in real time. They promise to post frequently on Facebook (assuming they can find a computer). And hopefully they'll smile if they are on CNN. They request prayers for the journey. God willing, they'll make it to Jerusalem by Christmas.
No doubt about it, being a white NGO or embassy worker or expat in a third world country can be stressful. I’ve seen the Mzungus with tense faces riding through Kampala on Vespas or trying mightily to navigate the eddys of traffic roundabouts. I’ve watched them wander the halls of bureaucracy or deal with endless requests at the embassy. And I’ve always wondered how they cope.
It turns out there’s a bar, an Irish Pub over by Embassy Row in Kampala that is the unofficial watering hole for frustrated (mostly youngish) white Westerners. It is a good place to ask people how they cope.
“I clear my mind by blogging,” says a girl code-named JackFruity. “There is just so much crazy about this place, I have to write it down. There are quite a few bloggers here; we all read each other’s stuff. It’s like cyber-therapy and it doesn’t make any difference if anybody on the outside reads it. They wouldn’t understand anyway.”
“I find it helpful to numb my mind with alcohol,” says a young man in a white shirt, a tie and a Long Island Iced Tea in his hand. “Most Ugandans don’t drink which makes me wonder how they cope but after a day of shoveling against the tide of paperwork, only the fruit of the vine seems to make the day worthwhile.”
The next one perked my interest. “I come here for emergency sex,” said a UN worker named Pam. Tell me more, I said… would you like a drink? “Drink, yes. Well, you know, the days and nights get long and dealing with this culture, the stress is huge – there’s only one thing that does it for me, a good aerobic romp in the hay. About once a month I come here looking for an exercise partner. There is no shortage of candidates; some are repeaters which makes it all easy – a text message and a rendezvous and bam, it’s done,” she added.
“But you’re here at Ground Zero for HIV/AIDS, aren’t you worried?”
“Nah,” she said. “We take precautions. It’s just sex.” She glanced to the back of the pub. “And nobody blogs about it.” Then pointed to the bar. “I’m suddenly feeling like a Long Island Iced Tea.”
I had a sudden urge to become a professional humanitarian.
Meet Charity, a young lady in the faraway village of Kishanje who, in my opinion, represents growing hope in a generation of despair. When I first met Charity she was 18 years old, and the head of her family of siblings – four in all. Mom and dad died of AIDS and left the kids behind, on their own, with no resources except a small house.
Life for child-headed families – and there are tens of thousands of them in Uganda alone – is one of hard labor, daily survival and if they take time to think about it, a bleak hopeless future. The days are spent hauling water, gathering food, doing menial labor like breaking rocks or as house help. Everyone get used to one meal a day. School is out of the question. Charity, with a welcoming personality and brilliant smile, was fortunate because she was not assaulted by sexual predators. Nor had she taken the easy route of getting married to a man just so her family could eat.
In 2006, Juna Amagara Ministries began construction of buildings that would become a school, a conference center, vocational training center and medical clinic. Local people began to make bricks. They quarried gravel and hauled sand. Hundreds became brick haulers, earth movers, water haulers. One day, Charity asked the head of the ministry if she could learn to become a bricklayer, normally a job performed by only by men. He immediately said yes, of course, and assigned the head mason the job of teaching this young woman a trade. On his next trip to Kabale town, he bought Charity her own set of bricklayer’s tools.
In this village culture, it is customary for women to wear skirts and dresses. The apprentice bricklayer wore skirts at first, but climbing on scaffold became cumbersome and somewhat embarrassing. Soon, she wore jeans under the skirt. Within weeks, the skirt was set aside. But because she was learning a new skill and plowing new ground for women in the trades, the other women did not resent the change in tradition.
Charity became one of only two women bricklayers in Uganda. The other is a friend in Kishanje. The money she made bought food for two meals a day for her family and all the kids went through school.
After work stopped at Kishanje, Charity started a small construction group that did masonry work for the road project being built nearby. There, she met a man and got married. She gave birth to a daughter. And then the husband died of complications from HIV. Today, Charity is living in Kishanje with baby Elizabeth. The masonry tools are ready. When the building begins again, she will be there.
The first week of April is a somber time in Rwanda, East Africa.There are no weddings or parties.Night clubs are closed.People speak in hushed tones.Greetings are especially warm.Families cling together like no other time
during the year, for this is the time the nation remembers the Genocide of 1994
when more than 1,000,000 people were killed in 100 days of terror.
The Rwandan genocide was intricately planned pre-meditated
murder.Its roots began at the turn of
the 20th century when France,
Germany, England, Belgium
and Portugal agreed among
themselves to divide Africa in to
colonies.Rwanda fell to the Germans who
began the process of changing two peaceful tribes, the Hutus and the Tutsis
into racial enemies.After World War I,
the Belgians became the masters of Rwanda and exacerbated the divide
by issuing ID cards for each tribe – “to be maintained across families in
perpetuity.”The Hutus, defined as
anyone with more than 10 cows, became the ruling class.The Tutsis, anyone with less than 10 cows,
became the worker bees.
Almost from the beginning, this system began to fail.The very idea of defining a cultural people
group by property ownership was folly.Yet, political and government appointments were made on such status and
caused deep-seated resentment that became kindling for conflict.
From 1985, the Hutus began to plot the extermination of the
Tutsis.Hate propaganda went on for years.Practice, mini-genocides were
staged in “the war” from 1990.The
hatemongering continued through 1993 to the extent that the UN sent
peacekeeping forces under Canadian Lt. Gen. Romeo Dallaire who became concerned
at the level of pending violence and petitioned the UN to send troops to
prevent it.UN Secretary General Khofi Annan denied the
General’s request, a decision he later publicly regretted.
On April 6, 1994 Rwanda President Juvenal Habyarimana, a Hutu
with a Tutsi wife, hwas returning to the capital city of
Kigali after holding reconciliation talks that would possibly prevent violence.With him was the President of Burundi.There were rumors that the militant forces of
Hutu who did not want reconciliation were unhappy with the President and
threats of his assassination were frequent.Yet, he decried any threats confiding to his generals that traveling
with another head of state would most likely protect him.However, on this day his plane was blown out
of the sky on its final approach to KigaliInternationalAirport.45 minutes later, soldiers blocked all exits
from the country and people began hacking their neighbors to death.
Charles Byarugaba, a Ugandan man who was living in Kigali and working as an
electrician at the time of the Genocide remembers:“I saw the plane landing and I saw the bullets fired from the ground. Soon after we heard the President’s plane
crash, Hutu militia went door to door exterminating families.We could hear the screaming.Children watched their parents shot and were
then beaten to death.Anyone with a
Tutsi ID card was killed.Catholic
priests called parishioners to church promising sanctuary and when it was full,
called the Bahutu who came with rifles and grenades and killed everyone, 10,000
in Nyamatu alone.Husbands killed their
Tutsi wives and half-Tutsi children.People escaped by hiding in latrines or under piles of dead bodies.I kept asking myself why? Why? Why?”
Byarugaba said he was reasonably sure his family would not
be killed because they were not Tutsi, but he was forced by the Bahutu at
gunpoint to collect the dead.“After
three days, the smell became so great, you could hardly breathe.We stacked the dead in culverts where
bulldozers covered them with soil.We
did this for weeks.”
Eventually the rebel army of Tutsis captured enough of Kigali that an escape route was opened to Congo.Byarugaba’s wife and three small children
took off on foot while he followed a week later.“All along the way, people died," he said. "Some of exhaustion and fear.Others were shot.I walked with death every hour for 200 miles
over 16 days; we ate food found in fields along the way and if we needed a
blanket or shoes, we robbed the dead.Once I reached Congo,
I was fortunate to find my family safe.We all hiked back to Uganda
to our land where we began digging potatoes for a living." Today, 16 years
later, the memories of those days are strong: "We only survived by the will of
God,” he said.
Elsewhere in Uganda,
people still remember the genocide vividly.Eva Turyashemererwa was a first grade student in the town of Kabale in 1994.“We could hear shooting to the south and the
town’s river ran red with blood.”Herbert Ainamani recalls, “Refugees came over the hills at Kashasha
escaping the killers.The local people
tried to help them but the Bahutu army pursued and killed many, even some
Ugandans, one of them my cousin.”
The genocide produced not just one million dead but 300,000
orphans, 2 million refugees and 500,000 women raped, many by soldiers who were
HIV-positive.It was finally ended when
the U.N sent 5,500 troops to the area.
There is no way to describe the horror but Rwanda is serious about
remembering, about encouraging reconciliation, and moving on.The first Genocide Memorial was opened in
1999 in the capital city of Kigali
and today, there is some form of memorial in every district. At the site in Kigali, the visitor walks
through a straightforward presentation of the incident, its history, its
reality and its aftermath.The photos
are chilling.Blood-soaked clothing
fills several displays.One is
encouraged to walk the grounds where 276,000 bodies lie in mass graves.Large public gatherings are held in sports
arenas where people are encouraged to openly grieve and pray and remember those
who did not survive.
Rwandatoday is peaceful, a shining star of economic growth
in Africa.It is a strikingly beautiful place of hills and lakes and volcanoes and
mountain gorillas, good roads and an international airport.President Paul Kagame is trying hard to
attract tourists.“Hotel Rwanda” is the
Milles Collines, a swanky business hotel.But ask Charles Byarugaba if he is tempted to travel 30 miles to the
south to see how the place has changed in 16 years and he says, “No.I am afraid someone there will recognize me
and arrest me.I cannot go back.”
I was
watching Olympic ice skating last night when on comes this nice looking young man French fellow named
Florent Amodio.While he was making
u-turns on the ice in preparation for his short program, the commentator said
offhandedly, “Florent was an abandoned child left in the streets somewhere in Brazil when a
French couple found him and adopted him.”I was blown away.Here was a
young man who had just won the French Nationals in figure skating, now skating for his adopted nation in the Olympics, who started his life discarded like a piece of garbage tossed into the street.
I could not
help but think of the 150 orphan kids we are nurturing in Uganda. They too come from hopeless and discouraging beginnings. In talking to these kids about their dreams,
they have said they want to be missionaries or pilots or doctors or lawyers or
managers of multi-national firms. And I
have no doubt they will achieve their dreams because the fortunate few orphans who are taken in, given good food, safe
shelter and an education have a certain fire in their bellies for making
something of their lives. Nothing is
taken for granted and the goals of
being self-reliant, relevant and productive dominate everything they do.
Even though
we have Amagara kids in University now, we will not know for a decade or more
exactly how strategic these people will be in their society and the world, but
it is certain they will be at least as accomplished as Florent Amodio and will
be equally stellar examples to everyone about why we must save and nurture every
orphan child no matter where he or she may be. We cannot afford to lose one.
