I have been sent to Uganda by Mama Hope, a nonprofit organization based
in San Francisco. Their goal is to partner with grassroots projects in Africa
in order to improve the quality of life at a community level. It is my role as their
Global Advocate to be on the ground, listening and learning in the Budondo
community as the Mukisa family sets out to build the village’s first ever
health center. They have named it “Suubi” which means “Hope” in the local
language, Lusoga. I have been fundraising for the project and now I am finally
here to see it complete. Bernard Mukisa, the visionary behind the dream,
invites me outside his village home to listen to his story:
Hands clasped together in his
lap, Bernard Mukisa begins. “It was in 1980 when the feeling of helping the
community was first aroused.”
In 1980, Mukisa and his wife,
Teopista, were concerned about the quality of health care services being offered
in Uganda. The local hospital in the northern region of Busoga, which was run
by missionaries, only concentrated on treating disease and illness rather than preventing
them. Mukisa wanted to know why. When
questioned, the Reverend Father simply said, “If our program focused on
prevention, then the hospital wouldn’t make money”. Shocked and disillusioned, Mukisa
remembers how those calloused words changed him. “They live in me,” he
reflects.
Years later, Mukisa had the opportunity
to travel to Russia to advance his degree. It was a chance to insure stability
and security for his family; it was, perhaps, the only chance he would get. But
this incredible opportunity meant living away from his home for six years. Mukisa
and his wife both knew that his absence would bring challenges, but together they
decided that Teopista’s strength could overcome any hardship and Mukisa’s
education was too important to sacrifice. Mukisa flew far from home, hopeful
for the future but concerned for the loved ones he left behind.
Every day that he was gone,
Mukisa worried about the health and well-being of his wife and children. He had
left them without any resources: there was no land to harvest crops for food, no
salary to pay school fees, he had no money to send home. As a way to make ends
meet, Charles and Modest— his oldest sons—hunted guinea fowl with their
catapults, selling their catch to buy small amounts of paraffin, soap, salt and
tablets. If they were lucky they might catch two birds, meaning the family
could eat that day.
“I drew a picture in my head,”
Mukisa remembers, “very thin people, poorly dressed, malnourished children. But
when I came home I found vibrant children, a happy wife. I asked Teopista, my
wife, how had things been? She narrated very difficult things, the challenges
they had faced, but most of all, the sicknesses.”
“Going back the Africa tradition,
before the Europeans came to Uganda, Africans used to live in homesteads. There
was no divide between families. Whenever someone got sick, the neighbors would
come to help.” When Mukisa returned to Uganda, he saw that it was this African
tradition that helped his family survive during his absence. He thought, “What can I do to pay back the
community? What can I do to say thank you?”
And so in 1999, Bernard and
Teopista did some research in their home village of Budondo. They uncovered the
true extent to which the government’s medical services were failing its citizens.
There were poorly trained nurses, doctors whose fees were too high,
inaccessible hospitals and health centers, and a general lack of health
education. The most shocking discovery, however, was the vast number of women
and children who died during childbirth. A change had to be made.
In 2003 Mukisa asked the District
Health Officer to grant Budondo a community health clinic. He even offered his
family home to be converted into a maternity ward with an outpatient quarters. This
proposal was approved and the government promised to hire a midwife while
contributing medical supplies to the clinic. This was encouraging news. The
wheels of progress were beginning to turn; a new kind of life was possible.
Mukisa could finally say thank you.
But things weren't that easy.
Since the clinic was community based, it was the community who needed to join
together and formally apply to the District Health office. This didn't happen. Community
politics got in the way of progress. Some people felt threatened by Mukisa’s ambition,
some feared a shift in power, and some thought that the clinic was an elaborate
scheme for the family to get rich quick. The hope of the clinic collapsed.
“That was when we started
dreaming of building a private health center,” Mukisa explained. “Because the
government one had failed”.
While the plans for a private
health center grew, Mukisa continued to serve Budondo as a social activist
through theater and performances. He directed plays that highlighted the
challenges people faced, always trying to recreate the pulse of his community
through art. He piloted many initiatives that aimed to empower individuals,
emphasize the importance of education, and provide a platform for social
change. He helped establish a boy’s performance group for school dropouts, the
Twogere “Speak Out” Girl’s Club to empower young women, and the Suubi Women
group who were trained in preventative healthcare measures. Mukisa continued to
fight for the future of his community.
In 2007, Mecca Burns and Brad
Stoller heard of Mukisa’s theater group. The couple worked with an organization
that used theater as a means of community healing and growth called Forum
Theater. They traveled from Charlotte, Virginia to meet Mukisa and his family
to see how their techniques could support Mukisa’s efforts. Through Forum
Theater, the Mukisa family was able to conduct a needs-assessment of Budondo.
They performed a play—a true story and all too familiar scene—of a woman, nine-months pregnant, who died
on the back of a bicycle as she was transported to the hospital (watch the play here). The Forum Theater format
allowed members in the community to freeze the play while it was being
performed, insert themselves into the scene, and act out alternative ways of preventing
the woman’s death. It was a way for people to actively participate in the
changes they wished to see.
As more stories emerged from
Budondo through Forum Theater, the family realized that the issues in their community
were mainly about women’s health: children dying too young, women unable to
survive pregnancy, young girls attempting risky abortions that took their
lives. From these stories, the idea of a Women’s Reproductive Health Clinic
emerged. With support from Mama Hope and strong fundraising campaigns from all
over the world, Mukisa finally had the resources to start building a health
center. Suubi was born.
“We are trying to be tailors,”
Mukisa concludes, “according to the needs of the community.” And the community
has responded. Families are eager to have access to quality health workers,
skilled midwives, experienced doctors, and services that range from
vaccinations to counseling to maternity care. Every day, Mukisa hears people
buzzing about Suubi. When will it open?
Have you seen the building? We are praying for Suubi! The excitement is
electric and the anticipation is growing. Before too long, everyone in Budondo
will feel the effects of Mukisa’s long-lived gratitude. Everyone will hear his
thank you.
Nowadays, you will find Mukisa
monitoring the construction site. Always attentive, always aware; he refuses to
let this opportunity slip away. He labors and sweats with the rest of the
workers; his presence is inspiring. Everyone wants to keep up with his pace.
As the final days of construction
approach, Mukisa does not rest. He will not limit the potential he sees. There
is more work to be done: a mini theatre for minor surgeries and operations, quarters
for health workers, a theater hall to hold seminars, conferences and
performances, a passion fruit plantation that will support salaries and medical
supplies. The list goes on.
I am in awe of the man before me.
I feel the love he has in his heart, his genuine desire to serve. I believe
that if Mukisa has it his way, he will never stop dreaming for Budondo. He will
never stop asking, “What can I do to pay back my community?”
