Finding hope

While I was in Gulu, I stayed at St. Monica's Tailoring School for Girls. It is a school run by the Sisters of the Sacred Heart, and it is a school where young women can learn trades - tailoring, catering, secretarial, etc. Most of the girls are boarders, but there are some day-schoolers. Almost all of them dropped out of secondary school for various reasons (i.e. they were abducted from their homes and taken into the bush, they were orphaned, there were no school fees to continue education, they became pregnant, etc.) There is a creche on the premises for children of the girls, and some other children from the community. Some of the kids were born in the bush and their fathers are still fighting for the rebels. We visited the creche and interrupted their alphabet lessons under the tree to introduce ourselves. Kathy asked one class if they could sing a song for us. Immediately they all broke into this lively song, and when we asked the teacher the meaning of the Acholi words, she said, "Oh, this is one of our traditional songs. It's about how our fathers can't pay our school fees because they are drunkards." Our "head and shoulders, knees and toes" seemed a bit tame afterwards... I guess one thing that struck me about the kids was how innocent they all looked (you can see the photos in our gallery). It seems absolutely incomprehensible and evil to me that someone could look at a child like this; kidnap them from their home and family and force them to kill. When we saw giggling children in town it was sort of eerie - like seeing ghosts - it could have been them to have their whole childhood ripped away from them.

I was blessed to meet these girls, and to share life with them for a few short days. I admire their courage, their strength, and the way they are carrying on and persevering with grace. I was blessed to hear them saying the Rosary and repeating over and over "pray for us" "pray for us" "pray for us." I was blessed to play volleyball with them. I was blessed to sing with them, and to hear the rhythms of the drum and the shaker. I was blessed to share tea and beans in ground-nut paste with them. I was blessed to see how much faith they have in God. It seems that in North America, when things get tough, we blame God or doubt God. In Africa, when things get tough, people trust God and turn to Him. It would seem to be the smarter choice; and it's often the hope that's keeping people alive.