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.
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 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.