Breaking Camp

As I have written about previously, I am definitely a hypergamist.  I married up.  Way up.  Today (Sunday, June 16th), our 23rd anniversary, I was reminded of this one more time.  Joline and Jessica are currently on a 10-day trip around southern Uganda with the Gregston family doing medical clinics in rural villages and won’t be back in Kampala until Thursday the 20th.  (The Gregston’s blog is here.)  When I opened my suitcase early last week, I found the anniversary card Joline had stashed in there for me.  Unsurprisingly, I had not thought to put a card in her suitcase.  As I said, I am a hypergamist.

Her card said, in part, “It seems fitting that we are both throwing starfish on our wedding anniversary.  When I married you, I had no idea what kind adventures we would have.”  I didn’t either.  Not even four years ago.  God has led us in a completely different direction than we could have ever imagined.  I am blessed beyond words to be walking with Joline down this ever-changing path.

OK, back to the prison work with the Pepperdine team.

Friday morning, we printed out the final copies of the final briefs.  Exhaustion was setting in for most of the team, but it was the good kind of exhaustion – the kind you feel after you have emptied your reserves into something you believe in.

The entire team drove out to the prison for a final farewell to the 70 inmates with whom we had worked.  While the prison staff was gathering the prisoners, David and I met with the warden to discuss next steps.  We explained that we were handing the baton completely to the Ugandan defense lawyers who had promised to continue working with these clients.  The warden’s most pressing question was “when are you coming back?”

Our hope is that we won’t have to come back, that the Ugandan attorneys will keep the ball rolling.  David will be checking back periodically and likely even returning to Fort Portal from Kampala for a day or two in the coming weeks.

When the 70 prisoners were gathered, David said a few words to them about where their cases were going next and where he hoped their lives would go next.  He encouraged them to look for an opportunity for a new start, and to take full advantage of redemptive second chances.  He led a group prayer as the prison Katikiro (head inmate) translated.  The Katikiro then offered some words of his own.  “Thank you for coming all the way from America to help us.  Thank you for loving us.  God bless you and may you have a safe journey home.  We pray you will come back and help more of the prisoners.”  Those weren’t his exact words, but it accurately captures his sentiment.

We took a few group pictures, then parted ways.  For David and me, this departure was somewhat emotional.  We had been involved in several such sessions with juveniles and have found ways to protect our hearts a bit.  For several of the others in our group, it was very emotional.  I suspect it will continue to be for quite some time as they reflect upon the starfish they are throwing back into the sea.

Final Group Photo

From the prison, we splintered.  Eight of our number (the Doyle/Chase clan, and four students working for the judiciary this summer) ventured south for a date they had with the mountain gorillas.  A few of the students headed back to Kampala, while David, Jessie, Sophia, and I returned to the High Court for one last meeting with the judge and the prosecution and defense attorneys.  The meeting went quite well, with everyone reaffirming their commitment to the process we set up, and with the court registrar promising to add the forty-plus additional prisoners who came forward seeking to enter into plea deals while we were there.

Time didn’t permit Jessie, Dana, Sophia and me to return to the remand home before leaving for Kampala (I hate driving at night in Uganda), but that didn’t stop us from sending David’s driver to the market for three 30-kilogram bunches of matoke (banana/potato-ish vegetable) 10 kg of beef, 20 kg of rice, 10 pineapples, 30 mangos, and 48 blowpops.  David later dropped by the remand home on his way out (after returning to the prison to meet with one more inmate), and they thanked him profusely for the feast they had just enjoyed.

The drive home sucked.  We arrived into Kampala just in time to hit the heart of traffic.  My wrong turn put us smack in the middle of the taxi park, which added another hour to our journey.  We did, however, have the best steak in town at Emin Pasha before retiring to sleep like we were dead.

Saturday was Jinja day.  Jessie, Dana, and Sophia white-water rafted on the Nile while I relaxed at the hotel and worked on a writing project I am pursuing.  They loved it.  Afterward, we had a chance to spend an hour or so with a friend in Jinja who continues to amaze me with her strength, passion, and dedication to the God she serves.  Jessie closed our time with her and her daughters with a beautiful prayer.

We ate at a local pizza joint before getting on the road for the supposedly two-hour drive back to Kampala.  On the television in the background was the Uganda v. Angola World Cup qualifying match.  Uganda came from 1-0 down late in the second half to win 2-1.  They will advance to the final ten (from which five will advance to the World Cup) from Africa if they win or draw next week against Senegal.  So why am I writing about this?  Well, the national stadium is situated between Jinja and Kampala.  The drive back at night is scary enough, but when drunken celebrating revelers are added to the pedestrian and boda boda mix, it was downright harrowing.  I don’t think Jessie, Sophia, and Dana will soon forget it.  (On the way to Jinja, we saw a boda vs. car accident occur right in front of us – the car won.  While the driver and passenger vaulted the handle bars, they landed on the grassy shoulder and didn’t appear to be seriously injured.).

On Sunday morning, Jessie, Dana, Sophia, and I drove out to pick up Henry from school.  I met briefly with his headmaster and then we set off to meet up with David for brunch.  A little over three years ago, Jessie wrote Henry a letter while he was in a juvenile prison, not sure if or when he would be released.  I was able to deliver Henry the letter during my second visit to Uganda in May of 2010.  Henry was quite touched at the time, so it was a very sweet moment when Henry and Jessie met in person for the first time.

Henry and Jessie Finally Meet

Henry is working very hard in his penultimate term of Secondary School.  The national exam to determine whether he gets into medical school (an undergraduate program) will take place in late November.  In the meanwhile, we are awaiting the judgment in the appeal I argued in March on his behalf.  A local attorney who argued a case in the same week as I did recently told me that it should be issued in the near future.

On Monday, we will be meeting with several judges and with representatives of Sixty Feet.  Several of our group then head back home on Tuesday.

On the road to Rukunjiri

On our way from Kabale to Rukunjiri, we stopped to see the view of Lake Bunyonyi.  We took this time to take a photo of our medical team.

Mobile Medical Team overlooking Lake Bunyonyi

The Gregston family is on the left.  Jessica and I are in the center.  David (our driver, clinic helper, and “big brother”) is in the back.  Dr. Joseph (our clinical officer, spiritual encourager, and comededian) is in the front.  Faith (our clinic coordinator, treasurer, and “body guard”) is on the right of me.  Kyle (OSU grad, future med school student, and photographer – thanks for sharing your awesome photos for this post!) is on the far right.

Rukunjiri is a beautiful area of rolling hills and valleys, with crops of rice, coffee beans, bananas, and maize.

Rukunjiri

We spent all day Friday and half of Saturday doing a medical clinic for the community of Bwambara (just outside Rukunjiri) at the Bwambara Community Church.  We saw 250 patients the first day and 100 patients today.  Many people were given the chance to receive the medication and spiritual care that they needed.  Some accepted Jesus as their savior as they prayed with the church pastors.

Patients waiting to be seen outside Bwambara Community Church

Today, there were far too many people to be seen in a half day, so we first saw those who had come yesterday but we didn’t have time to see, then those who were the most sick.  We would have stayed longer today, but we had accepted an invitation to a wedding reception.

Ugandan wedding cake

In addition to the sparklers coming out of the cake, they also released confetti when the bride and groom cut the cake.  If you have never been to a Ugandan wedding reception, you may not know that there are lots of speeches (like one to two hours of speeches).  They even asked Dr. Jay to give a speech, as a representative of America.  He gave a very funny speech, but sadly much of it was lost in translation.

On our way from today’s clinic back to the house where we are staying, our van overheated, so we had to stop by the side of the road.  This allowed time for the engine to cool down and for us to make some friends.

Soccer ball for school boys

The primary school boys were so excited to get a new soccer ball for their school from us, that they went running and yelling all the way down the road back to school.  A few minutes later, the director of their school came back with some of the boys to thank us for the ball.  We told them we were on our way to get ready for a wedding reception, and they actually knew the bride and groom.

Some of us took this mandatory vehicle rest stop as a chance to get some exercise.  Jill and I and some others went walking along the road.  As we walked, the people who lived in houses along the road, came out to greet us.

Walking along road from Bwambara to Rukunjiri

We only walked for about 15 minutes before the van was up and running, and picked us up.  We got back in the van just in time before it started to rain with plenty of thunder and lightning, so it was good that we got off the open road when we did.

We have enjoyed our time here in Rukunjiri and Bwambara.  We have made some good friends and will be sad to leave them tomorrow.

Flurry

Like the swarm of bees we have been since we arrived in Fort Portal, we established a hive in the breakfast room on Thursday morning.  Flash drives earned their name by darting in and out of computers as the final summary briefs moved down the edit, proofread, print, collate, staple assembly line.  By about 9:30 a.m., we had about 35 final briefs – one copy for the prosecution, one for the defense, and one for us.

A couple groups headed back to the prison to interview the three prisoners whose police files had finally arrived in town the prior afternoon.  The rest stayed behind to continue preparing the balance of the briefs.

One prisoner became emotional when telling his story.  While his name was on the cause list, there was no police file.  He reported to Sophia and her group that court sessions have been coming and going and he is getting left behind because his file has been lost by the police.  Fortunately, he has retained a copy of his indictment, so the group had at least some idea where to begin.  He said he was so thankful to finally be able to tell his story.

After lunch, Judge John Doyle, Professor Carol Chase, David, and I met up at the courthouse with the prosecuting and defense attorneys to begin the process of plea negotiation.  My experience in prior such meetings in the juvenile arena counseled in favor of limiting the number of Westerners in the room – this needs to be a conversation by and among Ugandans in order for this process to take hold here.  Since John and Carol had held a plea bargaining seminar for the attorneys on Monday, and since David is a court-appointed mediator here in Uganda, we thought it best to limit our contingent to these three.

The meeting lasted about three hours and about half a dozen cases were discussed, several of which reached plea deals.  Most importantly, for the first time in the adult realm, the Ugandans held a guided discussion about the merits of criminal cases in advance of trial.  This was a big step and promises to gain momentum from here.

While the plea discussions were going on, most of the rest of us ventured back to the juvenile remand home so those who hadn’t been there the day before had the chance to meet the kids.  On the way there, Sophia, Dana, Jessie, and I stopped at a local outdoor market to pump up the new soccer ball we had brought for them, and to purchase some food to supplement their monotonous daily diet of beans and posho (corn flour mixed with boiled water).  We bought as many bananas, tomatoes, onions, and avocado as we could carry.  As we were crossing the street back to the car, I saw some movement out of the corner of my eye and heard Sophia sternly rebuffing a slightly built, but heavily persistent, Ugandan man.  He had hold of her arm and was pawing at her bag.  His countenance betrayed a distinct lack of marbles rolling around in his head.  A few local Ugandans started yelling at the man and I joined them in approaching him menacingly.  We got things broken up in pretty short order, at least in time to keep Sophia from taking him down – she wasn’t having none of his business.  He then chose to stalk me as I put the booty into the boot of the car.  I gave him a banana and he went away happy.

At the remand home, the kids cheered with delight when they saw the new ball, and were excited about the food as well.  After we went around the room for introductions (the new members of our group wanted to meet the kids), we had a ball presentation ceremony, which was their idea.  On behalf of the United States, law student Katie Coy presented the ball to their captain, who was flanked by his co-captain and the warden.

Ball Presentation Ceremony

During the game, I had the opportunity to travel with the warden to a nearby fuel station and, courtesy of Sixty Feet, to fill the tank of their van in order to transport the two children home who were released two weeks ago, but were waiting for fuel money.  I trust that the funds would be used for fuel, but gifts in kind are always preferable to cash transfers.  We were promised the boys would be taken home Friday, but we have since learned that the probation officers in their villages were at a seminar, so the resettlement was delayed until Monday.  (Earlier, we had the opportunity to tell the two boys in person that they would see their families very soon.  Needless to say, they were quite pleased).

We gave the kids the choice of how to divide into teams for an epic match.  There was no hesitation – Uganda Cranes vs. American Eagles.  Joining the American squad were a couple Uganda Christian Law Students and Sandra, who is John Niemeyer’s Ugandan/British/Soon-to-be-American . . . ? girlfriend of two years (that is how long they have been dating, not her age).  Given my advance aged, and given my aching joints and muscles from the prior day’s game, I volunteered to be the photographer.

The match started out relatively evenly, though the ball seemed to be near our goal most of the time.  It was flurry of feet, half bare and half shoe shod.  Within moments, it was clear who the three best players on the field were – Harrison Doyle (Carol and John’s son who played college soccer), Ana Carinena (2L student who played college and professional soccer), and Meredith Doyle (3L who also played college soccer).  The problem is that the enthusiasm of their supported cast on the American side far outpaced their abilities.

Pre-Game Pepp Talk

 

We struck first on a breakaway, as Harrison beautifully crossed the ball to his sister Meredith, who blasted it past the helpless keeper.

Meredith, Just Before Initial Goal

That was the last time we led.  They equalized, then went ahead 2-1.  Ana evened the score with left-footed half volley, but they eventually wore us down, beating us 5-2.

Ana Establishes Her Dominance

Niemeyer Finds an Alternate Use for his Head in Uganda

Harrison's Fancy Footwork (and yes, I was on the field taking pictures)

To say a great time was had by all is rather like saying 2L Stephen White likes carbohydrates.  (He has earned a reputation this week as a world-class carb hound).

After showering up, we ventured outside of town to the hotel/resort where Justice Chibita stays when he is town.  His family stays four hours away in Kampala, and he goes home on the weekends.  Earlier in the week, Justice Chibita had invited the entire team (American lawyers, Pepperdine law students, Ugandan lawyers (on both sides), Ugandan law students, and court staff) for a farewell celebratory dinner.  The food and location were idyllic; the company and camaraderie were even better.  As is customary in Uganda, the dinner ended with a series of speeches.  On our side, David, Judge Doyle, 2L student Nora Lopopolo, and I spoke.  On behalf of the Ugandans, the head prosecutor, one of the defense lawyers, and Justice Chibita spoke.  We all expressed our gratitude to one another, and promised to continue this partnership on behalf of the imprisoned in Uganda.

For her part, Nora closed by reading a prayer written by Oscar Romero that had become special to her on an earlier trip to Guatemala.  This prayer epitomizes what we are trying to do here, and has become special to us all.  I will close with it as well:

“It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.

The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work. Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said.

No prayer fully expresses our faith.

No confession brings perfection.

No pastoral visit brings wholeness.

No program accomplishes the Church’s mission.

No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.

We plant the seeds that one day will grow.

We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development.

We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.

This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.

It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.

We are prophets of a future not our own.”

“We’re doing this because we love you.”

“We’re doing this because we love you. This is the best thing for you. You’ll thank us later.”

 

I never REALLY understood what that meant. I mean, I knew it wasn’t just my parents’ way of justifying their decisions. But, I didn’t understand what they were really trying to say to me.

I assumed that this trip would teach me something, but I wasn’t quite sure what. Currently, I am relative-hopping through Southern/Central California. Throughout my journey, I have experienced many things that have made me think. So far, I (accidentally) stepped into a dirty pond, snuck my younger cousin into a restroom* at a fancy restaurant, went to a drive-in movie, and went barefoot in a public* restroom.

A few times, the kids will make a wrong choice and I will help correct it. For example, one of my cousins will cry when they lose the game Joshua and I are playing with them. After encouraging the child and making sure they know that no one can win every time, I start to think. What if I was like that? What if I was the one throwing a tantrum “just because”. It really makes one start to wonder. During these times, Joshua will reassure me that I was not indeed like this, or at least not a lot. 🙂

After dinner, we had some dessert. Most of the kids had popsicles, while one switched off taking bites of his aunt and uncle’s ice cream bars. Will was growing tired of only being allowed to take small bites, so he did what most kids would do; he asked for one of his own. At almost the same time, the nearest aunt and uncle told him no, and that it would give him a tummy ache. Here come the waterworks!

Will tried to run away and pout, but I took his hand and sat him down. Below is out conversation.

“Will? Why are you crying?”

“They wouldn’t let me have my own ice cream. I can finish my own!”

“I know you can, Will. But do you know why they wouldn’t give you your own?”

“Why?!!”

Because they love you. It would give you a tummy ache if you ate a whole one. They know what’s best for you.” (Sound familiar??)

“Okay…”

So, you see, I was acting a lot like my parents! Now, it was my turn to play that card. Sometimes, we think we know what’s best for us. But, we really don’t. Guess what? Sometimes, even our parents don’t know what’s best for us. The only person who can really be sure is God.

“For the Lord knows the way of the righteous,  but the way of the wicked will perish.”

-Pslam 1:6

 *The words “fancy restaurant” require the use of the word restroom as opposed to bathroom.

*I do not completely neglect hygiene; we were at a water park. That justifies my choice, right? 🙂

Love Always,

Jennifer Gash

Endurance

The daily prayers blaring through the quad-directional loudspeakers at the local mosque called the faithful at 5:30 a.m. to arise and pray.  We are already awake, thank you very much, but we appreciate the reminder to pray, albeit directed through an alternate mediator.  And pray we did before we resumed the work at the prison.

A colleague of mine at the law school, Bernie James, sends out a Daily Word message with timely reminders and encouraging thoughts.  Before breakfast, I read Tuesday’s particularly apt version entitled “Endurance” and thought I would share it with the group before we set out.  Over breakfast, Jessie asked me if I subscribed to Professor James’ Daily Word.  She does as well and concurred that we should start the morning group meeting with it.  So we did.

Here is an excerpt:

“God’s mercies are new every day.  The promise most overlooked by believers is the assurance that Jesus keeps his own safe and “the evil one cannot harm them.” [1 John 5:18].

Therefore, endurance is my goal: to take care and be watchful.  Victory is not to the swift nor to the strong, but to those who persevere.  I am vulnerable when I let my guard down.  Thoughts and fears of what the future may bring is harassment from the evil one when he sees me weak and inattentive.

Jesus is keeping me.  This is my security and my rest.”

Endurance was, indeed, the word of the day, and God gave it to us in abundance.

Also that morning, one of our number had been stricken with a recurring wave of “Technicolor-return-to-sender” yawns.  Apparently, I was all cried out from yesterday because I was able to lead the morning prayer without heaving sobs.  We added our ailing team member to the prayer list, and continued to pray for the situation to which I alluded yesterday.  (Our prayers were answered in short order – the yawns subsided soon thereafter and the other situation has taken a decided turn for the better, though there is still lots of work for God to do for this to be resolved in a way that protects the best interests of the child at issue).

Our group again reformed into teams, with a few teams heading back to prison and a few staying behind to turn out final summary briefs.  Like yesterday, David led the group he and I were co-leading and continued to liaise with the prison officials, while I stayed behind and created forms and templates that would be used in the mediation/plea discussions that are set to begin Thursday afternoon.  David is truly the glue holding this entire enterprise together and is deftly managing the relationships with the exceedingly grateful prison staff.

In the late morning, I met with the judge to provide him his daily update.  He continues to offer us encouragement and gratitude.  I also met with the head prosecutor to brief him on the day’s progress.  I brought with me a sample draft of the summary brief the prosecution and defense lawyers will be getting for each case.  We created a snazzy cover page (originally designed by John Napier in January of 2010) with a photo of the accused and all of the docketing and police file numbers.  He didn’t even try to hide his pleasure with what we had prepared – he was quite impressed and eager to receive the full set of briefs.  (In addition to assisting the lawyers in resolving the cases on which we are working, we also hope to provide them with a set of forms and procedures they can utilize on a going-forward basis after we leave).

Meanwhile, back at the prison, three of the groups powered through the interviews, including a series of cases involving multiple defendants and allegations of ritual killings.

Telling us their stories

Post Interview Group Photo

Periodically, the warden reported to David that additional inmates have decided to take responsibility for what they have done and want to plead guilty to the offenses with which they are charged.  There are now more than 40 who have come forward, in addition to the 56 cases we are handling, which consists of a mix of those confessing to their crimes and those steadfastly maintaining their innocence.  We are so tempted to add this additional 40 to the group so we can increase the number of those who receive immediate access to justice, but because we don’t have the police files for those cases, we are unable to prepare adequate summary briefs.  We hope and pray that the templates and procedures we have developed this week will carry over into the coming weeks as the Uganda lawyers with whom we are working take ownership of this process.

After lunch, about half of our group fulfilled an earlier promise David and I had made to the warden of the Fort Portal Remand Home to come and visit the children detained there.  Uganda runs five juvenile remand homes that house those from 12 to 17 who have been arrested while they wait for trial.  The remand home here in Fort Portal is well run and managed, and the Resident Judge (the one with whom we are working) keeps the cases moving through the system reasonably quickly.  Nevertheless, many kids are imprisoned for six months or more while the investigation and case preparation moves forward.

Currently, there are 24 kids there – 22 boys and 2 girls.  The warden informed us that of the 24, 4 have already been sentenced and are awaiting transport to the Rehabilitation Center where they will serve the remainder of their time, 2 have been released and are awaiting their resettlement to home, and 1 is there under a care and protection order – she was abducted in Kampala and brought to Fort Portal.  She will testify next week against her kidnapper and then will be sent home to her family.  She is 12.

After a quick tour of the well-kept facility, we went to meet with the juveniles.  One by one, we introduced ourselves.  After each of us finished, they clapped or said some things in their local language.  The warden would interpret — “you are welcome” or “thank you for coming.”  When we came to Jessie, she told them about some of the challenges she faced when she was their age, and that she spends lots of time in juvenile prisons in the United States teaching them and leading a Bible study.  She told them she would be praying for them.  When she finished, they started chattering and clapping.  The warden laughed and said, “they say they love you very much.”

When we finished, it was their turn.  We went around the room as they stood and told us their names, ages, and home villages.  They then asked if they could sing for us.  Twenty-five minutes later, they had sung about eight songs as a full group, as small groups, and as individual performers, often seasoning things with a bit of local dance.

Next, it was game time.  They love to play “football” and a few of us agreed to join in.  The soccer ball I bought for them in March is well worn, but still holding air.  While the others got started with the game, the warden and I went back to her office to discuss a few things in private.

For starters, I wanted to know when the two kids were released and why they hadn’t been resettled yet.

“They were released by the court on May 27th, but we have no fuel to take them back to their home villages.  They come to my office every morning and ask if today is the day they will see their families again.”

“When do you expect to receive funds from Kampala for resettlement?”

“We don’t know when the funds will come.  The Ministry doesn’t have any funds, but they said maybe by the end of this month.”

I have grown to trust this warden and I have experienced firsthand the challenges to which she alluded with the timeliness of fund disbursement.  I also knew who might be able to help.

Sixty Feet is an American NGO that for more than two years has been delivering medical care, psychological and spiritual counseling, material aid, and hope to Uganda’s imprisoned children.  They have also been funding the J-FASTER juvenile justice work on which David and I (and others) have been working in an effort to expedite the delivery of justice to Ugandan kids.  They are truly an extraordinary group of God-fearing and child-loving individuals who repeatedly demonstrate their unending compassion.  Check out their website here.

Well, after a quick phone call, the two kids who have been “free” for two weeks will now actually be taken home by end the of the week, thanks the to the generosity of Sixty Feet.  I can’t wait to tell them when we return to the remand home Thursday afternoon.

After my meeting with the warden, I joined the soccer game.  To the consternation of all in attendance, I was assigned to the “skins” team.  One of the kids was kind enough to tell me how to say “Great White Belly” in Rutooro.  My team came in second.  We lost 1-0, and the decisive goal was scored by Sixty Feet intern Aaron Murphy, whom we are lobbying hard to enroll at Pepperdine this fall, rather than the school on East Coast he is currently scheduled to attend.

Back at the hotel, the teams pressed dug deep into their well of endurance and worked late into the night preparing the summary briefs.

Nicole and Johnny hard at work

Dana and Harrison cajoling the printer into staying with us

 

Kabale Clinic

Beautiful Kabale

We are now in southwestern Uganda near the border of Rwanda, in the city of Kabale.  It is much colder here than any other place I have been in Uganda.  We are out in the country, surrounded by mountains and trees.

Revival Tabernacle Church

We started our two-day clinic today in the Revival Tabernacle Church.  We are focusing on the community members, but also seeing school children if they are sick.  We saw over 200 people today.

Community Clinic in the church

Part of the time I worked in pharmacy with “my twin” Jill.

Jill & Joline working in pharmacy

Part of the time I worked in registration.  When we were waiting for patients, Jared and I visited with our translators about our own countries.  We found that while they are many differences between Uganda and the United States, there are also similarities.

Joline & Jared with our translators

Tomorrow we will only work a half day because we need to travel a few hours to Rukungiri for our next clinic.

Pressing Forward, Making Progress

As the East African sun rises in the West Ugandan town of Fort Portal on our third day of intense case preparation, it illuminates the finish line off in the distance.  Adrenaline is supplementing sleep, though the former seems to be in much greater supply than the latter.

Day Two started off early with most of the team members wandering into the hotel’s restaurant before dawn.  Some hair was wet, some was tussled, some was barely there (but that’s more of a personal problem).  Some eyes were red, some were crusty, but all were alive and radiated the fire burning deep inside.  Our students have clients for the first time, and the gravity of what they are doing – what is at stake – has sobered them in all the best ways.

After breakfast, we gathered for a team meeting to discuss who was going where and when.  I had woken up to a quite distressing e-mail from a friend here in Uganda whom I deeply respect and admire regarding a situation quite close to her, both personally and professionally.  This was weighing on me heavily as I read from Matthew 25 and tried to reflect with the group on what we were doing in this prison and why.  As I am want to do, I started leaking from my eyes. And not just a little.  That triggered the nose, which then constricted the vocal cords.  Fortunately, my bladder and bowels are on their own closed system.  I was a bit of blubbering mess as I described the situation of my friend and asked the group to pray for her and the others affected by the turn of events.  I intended to lead the prayer myself, but that wasn’t happening.  I could barely get out a request for someone else to lead it.

Jessie Johnston leapt to her feet and bailed me out.  Jessie was been a pillar of faith for her classmates in law school (Class of 2011), and has been gifted with encouragement and boldness.  She dipped deeply into both wells as she offered a beautiful prayer of thanksgiving, grace, and protection for both us and those we are serving.  Jessie is a regular visitor/teacher at several prisons in the United States, and posted a wonderfully written and reflective report about our first day in the prison in Uganda on her blog site here.

After the team meeting, we launched into the day’s activities.  Three teams set off for the prison to resume the interviews. Since the Ugandan lawyers on two of the teams were tied up in the morning, they hung back at the hotel for a couple hours to prepare for the upcoming interviews and to summarize the prior ones.  But by late morning, all five groups were with their clients.

Since David had run logistical point on Monday, we switched out for Tuesday so he could spend some time with the prisoners hearing and chronicling their stories.  I met with the judge and his assistant to update them on Monday’s progress and to chart out with them where things were going next.  The judge was pleased and grateful.  My prediction is that this man will someday fill one of the top few slots on the judiciary.  He is quite impressive on every level.

From there, I met with the Resident State Attorney, who is the functional equivalent of the District Attorney for this area.  He has been, and continues to be, a pleasure to work with, and he gets the potentially transformative nature of this project.  We had a chance to discuss the one case I wrote about yesterday – the prisoner who should be in the juvenile remand home, rather than in the adult prison.  Though he didn’t make an immediate decision, he clearly understood and appreciated the situation and agreed to elevate this case to the top of the pile when we start the plea bargaining process at the end of the week.

Meanwhile, Dana and Harrison resumed their critically important, though thoroughly unexciting photocopying and logistical management duties.  Suffice it to say that the trains are all running on time due to their efforts, and we are all well fed (samosas for lunch and surprisingly good pizza for dinner).

During the afternoon, I focused on designing four templates for the summary briefs we will be delivering to the lawyers for both sides.  Our teams are preparing confidential interview summaries for the defense lawyers (using a template largely designed by Nootbaar Fellow John Napier in January of 2010, and revised and refined for this specific use by Nootbaar Fellows Shane Michael and David Nary).  The summary briefs for which I spent the afternoon designing templates will provide in one manageable packet the penal code section under which the prisoner is charged, the pertinent provisions of the newly issued Sentencing Guidelines, a reasonably neutral analysis of the strength of the case (without breaching any confidences), and an analysis of the aggravating and mitigating factors identified in the Sentencing Guidelines.  The four templates correspond to the four types of cases we are handling this session – Murder, Rape, Aggravated Robbery, and Defilement.

While I was working, the King of the Toro Kingdom – flanked by hundreds of adoring supplicants – meandered down the main road in a makeshift parade.  Like Great Britain, the royalty in Uganda are largely ceremonial, but the scores of people bowing prostrate in the roadway as he approached would have suggested otherwise.  I took a break from my “office” in the “war room” we have set up in the Parrot Bar of the Rwenzori Traveller’s Inn (where we are staying) to watch the parade.  A local hotel worker told me that the 20 year-old King inherited his throne at the ripe age of 3.

Toro King (striped shirt) and his Subjects

Four groups came back for lunch; Judge Doyle’s group, which had a bit of a later start due to the Ugandan lawyer’s schedule, worked straight through (with a culinary assist from Dana and Harrison as they sent food with the group and then brought them more).

By the end of the day, Professor Chase’s and Sophia Hamilton’s group had completed their initial round of interviews, and the others had made substantial progress toward completion.  In all, more than 25 prisoners met their lawyers and finally had a chance to tell their stories on Tuesday.

Back at the hotel, we feasted on pizza we picked up from a Dutch bed and breakfast down the road, and continued the case preparation.

Before we left the United States, I asked Dana Zacharia to bring her guitar with her so we could enjoy her God-given talents when we grew weary from the work.  So at about 10:00 p.m. last night, Dana sang us a few songs about the transcendent nature of freedom.  The other patrons of the hotel bar joined in a rousing ovation as she finished.

Dana Blessing us with her Music

A few of the team are a bit sick, a few a bit sick to their stomachs as they adjust to the local food, but all are rowing tirelessly with both oars.  We have been so blessed by the prayers and encouraging words we have been receiving, and we are grateful for your support.

The Lottery

On Sunday evening, we picked up copies of the first 20 of the 56 case files on which we would be working this week and got to work.  We broke into five teams, each of which consisted of an American lawyer, Ugandan lawyer, two Pepperdine students, and a Ugandan law student.  Here are the American members of each team:

Professor Carol Chase, Johnny Kristofferson, Nicole Bannister

Judge John Doyle, Nora Lopopolo, Aaron Murphy (prospective law student we adopted)

Sophia Hamilton, Katie Coy, Stephen White

Jessie Johnston, John Niemeyer, Ope Peters

David Nary/Jim Gash, Meredith Doyle, Ana Carinena (David and I are subbing in and out on a team because of our other logistical duties)

David divided the files such that each American law student had two files to summarize before the interviews commenced on Monday morning.  It was a late night.

In the morning, David, Professor Chase, Judge Doyle, and I met with the prosecution, defense lawyers, and judge to map out the week.  All went well with that meeting.  Next, the entire group, including both the American and Ugandan law students, gathered in a courtroom for a plea bargaining mini seminar presented by Professor Chase and Judge Doyle.

Judge Doyle and Professor Chase Training the Ugandan Lawyers

Plea bargaining is somewhat of a foreign concept to Ugandan lawyers, which is why their prisons are spilling over with detainees awaiting trial.  It is also why the lawyers with whom we are working (for both the prosecution and defense) are reflexively resistant to this method of alternative dispute resolution.  We are, however, working through the challenges and they are participating in the process.

After a quick lunch, we loaded up into four vehicles and left the paved road in favor of the winding, bumpy, dusty road out to Katojo prison.  This detention facility currently houses 874 prisoners, 320 of which are on remand.  Those on remand have been arrested and charged, but are awaiting trial.

David went in first to meet with the warden to ensure all was well.  While we came with the necessary paperwork, and while David and I personally met with the warden to arrange everything in March, we were still a bit anxious because things don’t always (often?) go according to plan in Uganda.  Ten minutes later, David emerged and gave us a “thumbs up.”

As we all passed through the two sets of security entrances, the guards corralled the prisoners into the courtyard, where they all sat submissively.  The warden brought David and me through the third security gate to address the prisoners.  When we realized the others were being kept behind, we talked the guards into allowing at least the Ugandan lawyers to accompany us, since they were the ones who would ultimately be representing the prisoners.

The warden belted out a brief introduction in the local language.  I, then, had the opportunity to address the crowd, while one of the prisoners interpreted.  I explained who we were, why we were here, and what would be happening this week.  I made clear that the Ugandan lawyers with us were their lawyers, and we were here to assist them.  David followed up with his greetings and an explanation that we would be working directly on 56 cases involving 70 prisoners.  They clapped excitedly every time we mentioned anything related to going to court to move their cases forward.

David Addressing the Prisoners

Next came what appeared to them to be The Lottery.  Not the Shirley Jackson kind.  Not the Hunger Games kind.  But the kind where you have a chance for freedom if your name is called.

In actuality, random chance played no part in the selection of the 56 cases.  Over the past several years, the court has held multiple “Plea of Guilty” sessions whereby any of the prisoners on remand who wanted to admit to their crimes and accept whatever punishment was doled out to them were allowed to jump the queue and have their cases disposed of en masse.  This left behind both those who insisted upon their innocence and those who did not believe the prosecution could prove a case against them.  (In other words, only the tough cases remained, so we have our work cut out for us in trying to assist in reaching plea deals).  Of these 320 remaining cases, we selected the oldest group for this pilot program.

The warden announced he would be calling out the first 20 for their interviews.  Instant silence.  Even the chattering birds stopped to listen, to see who would finally have a chance to tell his story to a lawyer representing him.  (This block of the prison contains only men, though two of the cases actually involve women housed nearby).

As a name was called, the prisoner would indicate his presence.  Some sprang to their feet and waved excitedly, and some called out in disbelief that their time had finally come.  Two of them, after signaling, put their faces into their hands as the emotion poured out.  I won’t soon forget this moment.

The disappointment among the unchosen was palpable after the last name was read.  More tomorrow, we assured them, though this intense week of preparation will only reduce the backlog in this prison by about 22%.  We have to keep reminding ourselves that our aim is to assist in a long-term change to the structure, but it is still difficult to see so many left behind in the short term.

Niemeyer photographed each of the twenty “winners” just before we broke into five groups scattered throughout the prison facility.

Over the next several hours, we collectively got through 14 cases, with Professor “High Speed” Chase’s group taking the prize for efficiency, completing 4 in the time my group finished two.  Time and confidentiality do not permit a recitation of the cases, but one case bears particular note.  In Judge Doyle’s group, one of the prisoners was 17 years old, and was 15 when the crime he was charged with committing occurred.  This isn’t just his word – the medical examination in the file confirms he was 15 at the time of the alleged crime.  The minimum age for this maximum security prison is 18.  Likewise, the maximum sentence for this boy is 3 years under Uganda’s Children Act, and he has already served 2 ½ years.  We will be actively working to get him transferred to the Fort Portal Remand Home, and then before a judge.  He should be going home pretty soon.

While we were at the prison interviewing prisoners, Nootbaar Institute manager Dana Zacharia was busy along with John and Carol’s son, Harrison, photocopying the rest of the files and flawlessly executing all of the logistical components of this massive effort.  The “herding (and feeding) cats” metaphor comes to mind.

Back at the hotel, we ate together and got started reviewing the next day’s cases.  The students are getting some fantastic legal experience and are rising to the challenge brilliantly.

More after Tuesday’s events.

Reunion

Since arriving in Uganda, I have enjoyed many reunions with people, places, and things.  It has been great to be reunited with our medical team – the Gregston family and our Ugandan friends Dr. Joseph, Faith, and David.  I have enjoyed seeing familiar places and friendly people.  Eating familiar local food has also been wonderful – beans, rice, potatoes, chapatti, pineapple, and avocado.

The other day at lunch, we had the best avocado.  I love California avocadoes, but they aren’t as good as Ugandan ones.  The avocadoes in Uganda are bigger and slightly sweeter than the avocadoes in California.  I’m eating them at least twice a day.  They have the good fat, right?

Awesome avocado in Uganda

Last night, we went to dinner with our friend Steve from Oklahoma, who introduced our family to the Gregston family in 2011, after reading the Guideposts article about Jim’s work in Uganda.  This trip Steve was here for three weeks working with another organization.  We credit Steve with bringing our families together, which has been life-changing for us.  I know Jessica and Jake are thankful that Steve helped bring them together.

Steve with Jake and Jessica

We also got to visit with more friends from Oklahoma, Madison and Savannah Donica, that I met last year when they came to work with the Gregston family.  They are back in Uganda working with another organization on a short term mission.  It was fun to reminisce about our time together in 2012.

Jessica with Madison and Savannah

Today we worshipped at the Gaba Community Church, which is right next to the guest house where we are staying.  It felt like we had never left.  Our old praise team lead some old familiar songs and taught us some new ones.  Pastor Peter greeted the church and made us feel welcome.  We had a guest preacher today, who was good, but we missed hearing one of Pastor Peter’s sermons.

Pastor Peter and the Praise Team at Gaba Community Church

Tonight we went to a cultural dance show, where we saw some amazing dancing that requires way more coordination, athletic ability, and rhythm than I have.  We also saw our friend Tanner from Texas!  He was there with a group of college students on a mission trip he has been leading in Uganda.

Tanner, Jessica, and Joline

At the show, we also met a Ugandan man named Terzao because he was wearing a Pepperdine basketball t-shirt.  I just went up to him and asked him if he had a connection with Pepperdine.  As it turns out, he is a friend of Dusty Breeding (Jessica’s youth minister).  Of course he is – everyone knows Dusty!

Joline and Jessica with our new friend Terzao

It has been reassuring to me to come back to Uganda for a second time because it gives me hope that I will come back again.  There is no shortage of old friends and new friends here.

Picking Up and Setting Off

Each of Friday’s meetings went according to plan, though the day started off with a regrettable run-in with the local police.  On my way to meet with Uganda’s Director of Public Prosecutions in the morning, I was going to pick up John Niemeyer on the road near where he was staying in town.  As usual, the Kampala “jam” made LA traffic look like an empty hallway.

So I decided to break the law.  I didn’t do so cavalierly, but out of a self-proclaimed necessity.  I called John on my cell phone to report on progress.

Uganda police officers stand on the sidewalks just looking for drivers to step out of line or for cars that could be credibly (or not so credibly) deemed unsafe.  When identify find their mark, they simply step into the road and point at the driver.  Well, I got the point — in more ways than one.

“Uh-oh, cop.  Gotta go, John,” I said as I hung up and slid my phone between my legs.  I put on my good-morning-and-so-happy-to-see-you face.  I usually carry a few of those with me when I get behind the wheel here.

“Where is your phone?” he said as I rolled down my window.

“Good morning officer, how are you?” my Howdy-Doody face beamed back.

“You give me your phone.”

“Sure, here it is,” I said as I handed my bottom-of-the-barrel, cheap-as-they-make-them (Nokia P.O.S. model, and that might actually be a compliment).

“Where is your other phone?” he inquired, insinuating I was giving him this one as a cover to preserve my iPhone from confiscation.

“I have no other phone,” said Howdy Doody.

“You give me your driving license.”

If one plans ahead, one can get an International Driving Permit from AAA.  It is 15 bucks and looks official.  I gave him that one, rather than surrendering my actual California license.  Howdy also told him he was on my way to meet up with the DPP director and I handed him my Ugandan Court business card.

He inspected both of them closely.  “I am going to give you a ticket for talking on the phone, OK?”

“OK, I understand.  I am sorry and will not do it again.”

He left with my driving permit and business card and returned with a ticket book and a pen.  “I am going to give you a ticket and keep your permit.  You can pay the ticket at the central police station and you can pick up your permit there.”

“I understand.  Thank you.”  I knew we were doing a dance, but we had a different step in mind.  He was doing the “give-me-a-bribe-and-you-can-go” dance, and I was doing “I-don’t-need-that-permit-and-I-will-never-pay-you-a-bribe” shuffle.

“You are not above the law,” he said.

“I understand, and that is why you are giving me a ticket.”

He stared, I smiled.

I won.

“You can go, but don’t do it again.”

Phew.

I finally met up with John, and then the rest of the students met up at the Commercial Court and we hoofed the mile in the humid, breezeless Kampala air to the DPP’s offices.

We had a good meeting with the Director, who will be joining the court of appeals next month.  In the afternoon, I met with the Head of the Criminal Division to talk about the next juvenile session we are scheduling, and then the students and I met with the Chief Justice of the Ugandan Supreme Court.  The CJ is retiring at the end of next week (Uganda’s Constitution requires mandatory retirement at the age of 70), though the smart money is betting there will be some sort of constitutional end run to keep in office for a few years longer.  A decision should be made in the next two weeks.

A Fond Farewell to the CJ

Our Students with the CJ

That evening, we took two cars out to the airport to pick up the Pepperdine team flying in.  This included Professor Carol Chase, her husband John Doyle who serves on California’s Superior Court, their daughter Meredith who just finished her second year at Pepperdine Law, their son Harrison who recently graduated from college, Nootbaar Institute Manager Dana Zacharia, and two 2011 law graduates, Jessie Johnston and Sophia Hamilton.  They were all tired, but so excited to be in Uganda.  Thankfully, their luggage all arrived, which is always dicey here.

The next morning, we had breakfast with Justice K before heading west in four cars out of Kampala.  Our full, including David, me, and the students already in Uganda, numbers 18.

Because our work at the prison doesn’t begin until Monday morning, because it takes a few days for one’s body to become acclimated, and because six of the seven who arrived on Friday night had never been to Uganda, we decided to build in some local wildlife to the first-weekend itinerary.

Accordingly, our first stop was at East Africa’s only crocodile farm, situated very near the equator.  My family and I visited this farm last year and I described it in complete detail here.  The highlight for some, and low point for a few, was our benevolent gift to two of the man-eating crocs (one had eaten 18 before he was finally caught) of a couple live chickens.  It is just as graphic as it sounds, and gives new meaning to the term “bone crunching.”

David inspecting what will become a pair of shoes in three years

We made it to the safari “resort” in Queen Elizabeth National Park a couple hours after nightfall.  Those in my car – Dana Zacharia, John Niemeyer, and his girlfriend Sandra Niagaga – joked that I was burning lots of calories just by driving.  Dodging pedestrians, bicyclists, motorcyclists, oncoming cars, and breathtakingly large potholes has a way of speeding up the metabolism.

The resort rested on the hippo-laden banks of a lake.  The accommodations were rustic (tents for some and canvas-sided rooms for others) ensured we didn’t get too comfortable.  Also contributing to the discomfort was the stern warning from the staff, who insisted (i) no one walk alone at night, and (ii) no one leave their tents in the middle of the night.  Several in our group reported hearing a quadrupedal locomotion around the tents during the night.

The next morning, David reported that one of the guards saw a lion walking around the edges of camp the night before.  Later that morning on the game drive, we saw three lions lazing away the morning having filled their bellies the night before.

Lounging after a meal

We also saw hippos, elephants, water buffalo, numerous varieties of gazelle, and some warthogs (think Pumba).

After the game drive, our group subdivided, with several of us heading to Fort Portal to finalize logistics, while the other stayed behind for a boat tour around the lake.  They are meeting us in Fort Portal Sunday night so we can begin our prison work in the morning.

I will provide more detail in subsequent posts, but what follows is the crux of what we are doing.  As previously written about, the J-FASTER program we designed and implemented in 2012 has succeeded getting the court system on track to deliver justice in a reasonably timely manner.  The five remand homes in Uganda – facilities where children who are arrested await trial – are slowly reducing in size as children are getting lawyers and case resolutions much more quickly via plea bargaining and fast-tracked scheduling.

On the adult side of the ledger, there are more than ten thousand accused persons “on remand” in prisons throughout the country, many of whom have been held without trial (or even a lawyer) for five years or more.  Given the successes on the smaller juvenile scale, we have been given permission to develop a pilot program for adults.

We are starting with a prison just outside of Fort Portal where over three hundred are awaiting trial.  This week, we will divide into five teams, with each team consisting of an American lawyer, a Ugandan lawyer (from the Uganda Christian Lawyers’ Fraternity), two American law students, and one Ugandan law student (from Uganda Christian University) acting as the interpreter.  We have been allocated 56 capital cases (with more than 70 defendants) for this program.  Our goal is to prepare all 56 cases for trial this week, with the hope that a percentage of them will be resolved short of trial via plea bargaining.  This is the first time such an effort has been undertaken in Uganda, and we have been warned not to raise our hopes too high because of the cultural expectations that such cases will get full trials.

We kick off our efforts with a meeting in the morning with the judge, defense lawyers, and prosecutors in the morning.  From there, we will descend upon the Katojo prison en masse.