Posts like this are never easy. Yet events such as this are what remind us why our work in Uganda is so vital. How the lives we touch need so much what we give…

Our country director, Dena (whom you hear from a lot on here), recently notified us that George, the brother of one of our scholarship girls Nyangoma, died last week. Dena spent his last days and weeks with him, his mother Florence, and the rest of the family. Here is her touching account of the tragedy:

This has truly been an emotional roller coaster. One day we see progress with Florence and the boys, the next day they are suffering and it’s difficult to know the best way to help on the emotional front. It’s nearly impossible to turn away when you see the need of someone like Florence and her family, they are truly among the poorest.

It’s hard to imagine what it must be like as a single mother, living with AIDS and with two small children with AIDS. Her family gave her away when she was young (never providing her with any education at all) to an old man for a bunch of cattle, and now they won’t support her in any way, not even when her son George died this week. She has no family to turn to for support, no land (no place of her own, not even to bury her son), no garden, no one who believes in her… and yet she is expected to just pick herself up.

People around here (myself included at times) have gotten annoyed with her for being in denial about her situation for so long. No one talks about the fact that this is a normal psychological side effect of the disease and instead people judge her. What do they judge her for? Because she would get frustrated at times for having to take George to the hospital so frequently.

What people don’t understand is that she’s frustrated because every day she was with George at the hospital was a day when she was not working – a day she won’t be able to buy food.

Just before George got sick this last time she was so proud for working so hard: she had been promised enough work to buy a bag of corn flour (that would allow her to make porridge for the family for one month) and save enough money so that she could visit Nyangoma (her daughter and one of our scholarship girls) by herself on visiting day, for the first time. Now this has been a major goal for her in recent weeks. And she had to give it all up so that she could take care of George. Florence was forced to choose between the work that would feed her children and the hospital visit that would ease George’s suffering. For a single mother like her in Africa… to care for one child can mean the others starve. To keep everyone fed can severely affect the child wasting away from AIDS. No mother should ever be forced into such a choice. Watching Florence endure this broke my heart.

She really struggled, being so sick herself with AIDS, and taking care of two boys who also needed a lot of medical attention, she really did everything she could to help George. George’s father finally did come yesterday to take George to the family’s home place to be buried, which is customary. Florence really wanted this too, because the alternative would have been to bury him in a public site (which is basically a mass shallow grave). Her family is not in the picture or apparently helpful at all, so she is truly all alone. The father seems to care about the boys, but we don’t know where he has been all of this time. At least he was here now.

The nurses tell me that George was coherent just before he passed away. He told his mom he was losing energy to breath and asked her to take him in her arms, to sleep with her on the mat. He thought this would give him strength.

He passed away in her arms.

I sat a long time with Florence while she cried for him yesterday morning and last night. Brian (George’s brother) kept looking for George everywhere in the hospital; he still thinks George is just sleeping. The father could only afford to bring one motorcycle for George to take him to his home village of Basoga for burial, very, very far away on the opposite side of the country. He couldn’t afford to get another motorcycle to bring Florence and Brian with him. Florence said it was okay, but we put some money together to get a second motorcycle so that her and Brian could also attend, which is so important for them both.

When I think about George, I think about the times we spent here, the day we drew pictures together while we waited for his treatment outside the hospital and how happy he was about the houses and letter and numbers he had drawn. About the X-mas we all spent together watching Harry Potter, and eating cake, with the other kids, and how after his mom took him to Mild May to get treatment for TB, he came back looking so health and happy, his eyes were dancing, as if to say, “Look at me, I’m okay now.” He was so happy to be able to play with the other kids. I remember seeing him running and playing with kids for the first time. I’ll remember George this way and I’m glad he doesn’t have to suffer anymore.

Thanks so much for all of your thoughts, and thank you for your comments on remaining vigilant in helping women and children — so important, the poorest of the poor are truly in dire, dire need of help. I think for any of us here, we can get so overwhelmed by the need that it is easy to give up on the neediest, but children like George and Brian and Nyangoma and mother’s like Florence are definitely counting on us. Thank you for supporting me here and allowing me to assist in JLMC’s mission.

Love,
Dena Lewerke