I Hoped I Would Never Come Back

Joline, Henry, and I awoke early Monday morning and set off north to Masindi with my court-assigned driver, Michael.  Our destination – the Ihungu Remand Home just outside of Masindi.  Masindi is a mid-sized town three hours north of Kampala and one hour east of Henry’s home town of Hoima.  Masindi once bustled with activity when the railroads were running, but it has now returned to being a relatively sleepy town in the center of Uganda.

This town will, however, always hold a special place in my heart, as it was the first town in Uganda I spent any amount of time in.  It is also the town where I met Henry.  I was a wide-eyed professor on a do-gooder tourist trip, and Henry was the hope-depleted Prime Minister (designated “Katikiro”) of the Ihungu Remand Home – the head prisoner of the 21 inmates at this juvenile detention center where juveniles are kept who are awaiting trial.  As I have written about before, Henry and I believe that our friendship was God ordained and meant to be for a lifetime.  I can say without hesitation or equivocation that if I had not met Henry on my first trip to Uganda in January of 2010, I would not be living in Uganda today.

So why, two days after Henry completed his first term at the top A-level program in the country, would we be returning to this prison?  Shortly after we arrived at Ihungu, Henry somberly declared, “I hoped I would never come back to this place.”  So why did we come back?

About a month ago, I was in Masindi (in conjunction with the Doyle legal guardianship matter I wrote about yesterday).  While there, I tracked down the probation officer/warden of Ihungu, whom we affectionately call “Mr. William.”  Mr. William and I had gotten to be close in 2010 because we shared something in common – a deep affection for, and an abiding belief in, Henry.  Mr. William told me that the inmate population of Ihungu had swollen to 33.  When the Pepperdine team of lawyers descended upon Ihungu in 2010, the prison had been at capacity with 21 inmates.  Accordingly, over the past few weeks, I had cleared my schedule and made arrangements to visit Ihungu to take an inventory of the types of cases that were there and how long the children had been imprisoned while awaiting trial.  Last week, I spoke with the High Court Judge assigned district and received his blessing and encouragement to figure out how to get these cases moved through the system.

During an earlier conversation with Henry, he had volunteered to help in my juvenile justice work if ever an opportunity arose.  Henry speaks five languages fluently and can manage his way through two more.  He also knows exactly what it is like to languish in a prison, clinging only to his Bible and his belief in God’s deliverance to those who wait for it.  Accordingly, when I asked Henry last week if he would be interested in joining me at Ihungu to meet with the prisoners, he didn’t hesitate get involved.  He remembered vividly the day with Bob Goff and John Niemeyer came to Ihungu in the late fall of 2009 and announced to the prisoners they would return with a team of lawyers to help the children get access to justice.  He remembered just how much hope that visit brought and the impact it had on the prisoners’ morale.  He wanted to be part of it this time.

When we arrived in Masindi, we went straight to The Masindi Hotel where I had spent numerous late evenings and early mornings with other lawyers preparing the prisoners’ cases for trial.  I wanted to see whether the hotel was already booked during the time the next team of American and Ugandan lawyers would descend upon Masindi to dedicate five tiring days and sleepless nights preparing cases for trial.  Fortunately, the coast is clear for June 15-22, the likely dates of The Masindi Project II.  Since Joline had heard all about The Masindi Hotel and seen lots of pictures of the “war room” we created, we wandered around for a little while and took some pictures.  From there, we met up with Mr. William.  He and Henry exchanged warm hugs and were genuinely happy to see each other.  Mr. William jumped into our car and we all bumped and bounced out the horrible road to Ihungu.  Joline and I watched Henry closely as we arrived, hoping to catch a glimpse of the emotions he was experiencing.  It had been almost exactly two years since Henry was released and he had never been back.

“It is somehow different,” he said softly as the makeshift soccer field came into view.  The goalposts were gone that Henry had himself made from tree branches and nails he removed from the roof of the one-room warehouse he had called home for nearly two years.  In its place were a few cinder blocks.  Also missing from the field was the stone outhouse that had previously been in the field of play.  “It fell down about a year ago,” explained Mr. William in response to my inquiry.  As we turned the corner and the three stone buildings that made up Ihungu came into view, Henry gave a very Ugandan “Eh!” as he saw that other things had changed also, but much had stayed the same.  The maize (corn) plants had been cleared and a relatively fresh coat of paint had been applied to the building where the boys lived, but the rest of the structures were continuing to crumble and deteriorate.  Another thing I immediately noticed was that the distinctive, foreboding wooden door to the boys’ building that had figured so prominently in many of our initial pictures had been removed and replaced.  (More on that delightfully Bob Goff story in a later post).

Some of the male inmates were milling around outside in filthy, tattered, mismatched clothing as they cooked their morning porridge in the outdoor “kitchen.”  (The inmates at the Naguru Remand Home in Kampala wear clean uniforms).

Cooking in the "Kitchen"

Most of them stopped what they were doing and stared at us as we exited the vehicle.  Since we were with Mr. William, they must have known we were authorized to be there.  Joline and I slowly exited the vehicle and got her camera and my computer out.  I pointed out a few things to her from next to the car and then we looked around for Henry – he had been right next to us when we got out, but had disappeared.  We eventually found him with a group of prisoners, shaking their hands and introducing himself to them in their local languages.  After Joline I met several of the prisoners,, Mr. William retrieved the two girl prisoners and led us all into the boys’ building.

The boys’ building is about fifty feet long and twenty feet wide.  The floors and walls are concrete slabs and there are no windows, only small bar-filled rectangles on the walls near the twelve-foot high ceiling.  These rectangular holes have no screens, however, so the malaria-laden mosquitos have ready access to the prisoners.

Mr. William interpreted as I introduced myself, Joline, Michael, and Henry.

Talking to prisoners at Ihungu

The inmates seemed dutifully impressed that Henry had been Katikiro (Prime Minister) for almost two years and had left Ihungu two years earlier and was now back in school.  I explained that I had come with other lawyers two years ago and that I would be back with more lawyers in less than two months.  I described for them the information that we would be gathering on this visit and then what we would be doing when we returned.  They expressed their appreciation through a hand-clap pattern they all did in unison (they do this same thing at the Naguru Remand Home).

As we set up plastic chairs under the same tree that Henry and I had spent five days under more than two years ago, with him interpreting as I (and other lawyers) had interviewed Henry and his fellow inmates, Henry and I had a quiet moment.  “I hoped I would never come back to this place,” he said.  After a pause, though, he added, “I am glad I am here to help you.”

As we got started, Michael drove Mr. William back to town.  Starting with the two girls, we set up an assembly line, of sorts.  Joline wrote their names in large letters on a piece of paper and took a picture of them holding up their names, then escorted them to the chairs under the tree.  With Henry interpreting, I interviewed them and gathered some basic information – age, education level, crime charged, date and location of arrest, and date of arrival at Ihungu.  We also asked their favorite football (soccer) team – Manchester United handily beat Arsenal.

Midway through, Michael arrived back at Ihungu and he and Henry took turns interpreting.

Henry and Michael Interpreting

Michael has become more than a driver – he is a friend, and he relished the chance to participate in helping these children gain their freedom.  When all was said and done, we had a handful of murder cases, a handful of theft cases, and the rest were defilement (unlawful sex with a minor).  One had been at Ihungu for just over a week, a few had been there two years, and the rest were scattered in between.  To a person, they were exceedingly grateful to us for coming.  After we finished the interviews, which took a little less than three hours, we all gathered in the boys’ building again.  Before we said our goodbyes, Henry said a beautiful and moving prayer, asking God to protect and comfort the children while they waited for justice, and to forgive all of us when we fall short.  Another unison handclap from the grateful prisoners.

When we got outside, one of Henry’s fellow inmates from two years ago (Jabel) had arrived – Henry had told him we were coming.

Jim, Jabel, Mr. William, and Henry after lunch

They had an emotional reunion – they had been close and had been together for almost two years in Ihungu, with Jabel serving as Henry’s Chairman (#2 in command) during much of Henry’s reign as Katikiro.  From there, we all drove back to The Masindi Hotel for lunch.  I had called one of the prosecuting attorneys in Masindi last week, and he had agreed to meet me for lunch.  So Mr. William (we picked him up in town), the prosecutor, and I ate at one table, while Joline, Michael, Henry, and Jabel ate at the other.

Lunch could not have gone better.  Both Mr. William and the prosecutor fully embraced the idea of copying the pilot program we are running in Kampala and utilizing it in Masindi.  There are still some hoops to jump through to make it happen, but I am optimistic that the 33 inmates at Ihungu will soon be working their way through the justice system.  All in all, it was a great day.  One of the best parts of it was the fact that Joline and I got to work on a project in Africa together, which had not yet happened.