hope for Africa

Uganda has problems.  It has very poor roads and transportations systems—no public transport, no trains at all, hardly any stop signs or traffic lights (though numerous roundabouts or rotaries), and uneven enforcement of traffic rules.  For example, police often direct traffic—frequently giving conflicting signals—but the Boda boda, the ubiquitous motorcycle taxi, just pulls around them.  When there is road construction, and one side of the road is dirt, with rocks and sticks strewn over it to prevent traffic, motorcycles, and sometimes cars, just weave in and out.  It’s all very congenial—no one gets angry or even impatient, but the system can’t handle more.  There is no free education, so families spend their little all on school fees.  There is no publicly funded health, so medical care is too expensive for most.  There is no public pension for the elderly, so they must rely on ancient bonds of family—often broken by the ravages of epidemics like HIV/AIDS.  There is no public housing, so people like in improvised barrios, on improvised dirt roads in the middle of the city.  There is no oversight of business transactions, so land fraud—“selling” land that is not yours—is common and impossible to prevent.  Electricity comes and goes, as does the internet and phone service.  The sewage flows into cesspools and rivers and lakes (though I have not been anywhere that smalls bad), so the water is not safe to drink anywhere in the country. And finally, so many many people are poor, there is no tax base from which to raise the funds necessary to provide services that will bring development on Ugandan terms.  Thus reliance of foreign aid and investment.

   But...  But I am left with a cautious optimism.  The resources here are great.  A stable government and peaceful society mean that tourism flourishes.  Trouble in Kenya has driven thousands of tourists to Uganda instead, because they can trust that it is safe everywhere.  There is about 40 years' worth of oil under some of the most spectacular wilderness sites, like Murchison Falls Park, and it will be extracted, but the government knows that they cannot destroy their most durable asset—nature. An indication of the security of the nation is that it is safe and stable enough to reintroduce rhinos—their horns are as enticing as if they carried huge gold nuggets on their heads, and they are being poached to extinction in other countries. 

   What gives me hope is the Ugandan people.  They are ambitious, serious about education, and hard working.  Many Ugandans have multiple jobs, or stay for weeks or months away from home for work.   There are as many shops as there are people, it seems.  Almost anyone can retail phone airtime, for example. Even the ever-expanding traffic jams in Kampala (or anywhere) become open markets, with young men and women sprinting from car to car, selling newspapers, toilet paper, sodas, water, airtime,  meat on a stick, grilled bananas, and in one case a full set of classroom flip-charts and maps.   Everything you ever wore out or threw away is here in Kampala, repaired and ready to be sold.  There are enormous carpentry and outdoor upholstery shops selling chairs, and (of course) beds.  There are welders and metal working shops everywhere, the white-hot glow of arc welders sparking above the red dirt.  There is a large market on the way to Murchison where, when a coach bus pulls up, people in numbered blue vests literally sprint from window to window to do business.  And their prices are fair—though negotiable.  I have never seen people work so hard—and for so little.   Despite the problems that exist, and new ones that will follow more development, the people give me hope for Uganda.