We Must Risk Delight

A few days back I was sitting with three young men in a tiny dark room in a small alley in one of the worst slums outside Kampala. These young men, (one year out of high school, age 23-25) complete the sealing process of MakaPads and LOVE their job. Our lighthearted conversation turned into one about the complexities of life as they know it as I listened to their description of the many “ironies of third world poverty.” Our conversation was filled with jokes and witticisms (as are practically all conversations in Uganda), and Abraham, the most talkative of the three, joked, “I’m working and learning. I am a man, but I am making pads.” That being said, the conversation was also filled with interjections about how scary changes in government (especially major elections) are in the third world, and how trapped one can feel when “you can study and study and study and get your PhD and STILL find no work.” These heart-wrenching comments provided grounding among the jokes of marriage and curiosity about my ‘Muzungu skin that can get hurt by the sun and turn pink.”

Abraham commented on how funny it is that when people visit Uganda from a short period of time they end up witnessing so much more of his country than he ever has or will. I, in the past two weeks, have not only taken a weekend trip to explore Jinja, but have also traveled during the week to the outskirts of Kampala and Entebbe for work AND in a few weeks will be in the far west, in the Kabarole District for Kasiisi Project… I have already seen so much more of Uganda than any of the Ugandans with whom I was talking. They talked about how although they’ve known poverty all too well, they have only seen peace because they have never been to the north. Imagination is his source for exploration beyond Kampala. As we looked out the opening of the wall at the hot, dusty red dirt Abraham imagined out loud how thrilling it must be to “run on ice and snow” and to ski. Unfortunately, although he envisions novel experience and travel, his income is not enough to save beyond basic needs. MakaPads have allowed these boys to keep themselves busy and employed after high school when they may otherwise be getting themselves into “typical teenager troubles” (as they said). Employment is more than many can hope for in this starving environment. The boys raved about their employment with MakaPads because:

“It’s relaxed and you self motivate. No one tells you to work. If you work, you have money. It’s self-esteem and motivation.” and because “the more you work, the more money you make, so you find yourself pushing yourself to work hard.” One boy talked about how the hours they work (typically 7 -4), the lack of transport needed to get to work, and the work-week being limited to M-F made their jobs “so much better than a regular African job”.

The complexity of working with people who can see beyond the truly debilitating and overpowering poverty in the slums of Kampala and maintain an open and curious mind is incredibly humbling. These young men are well educated and employed and therefore in a much better position than the majority of their peers. But despite their intelligence, they are stuck in a world of corruption, uncertainly, and deprivation. But they also experience delight, and laughter, and friendship.

I read this poem early this fall and it really resonated with my inevitably mixed emotions inherent in being a privileged white American working in a third world county and seeing poverty, illness, and capability deprivation… and realizing “risking delight” is something we need be ok with as hard and as hypocritical as it may seem at times.

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