Gulu 2012

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Many of you have seen or at least heard about the controversial film called “Kony 2012.”  If you don’t know anything about Joseph Kony and the terror his Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) unleashed on northern Uganda for 20 years, you might want to check out the video and get informed.  Click on this link if you want to watch “Kony 2012 Part 2” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_Ue6REkeTA.  A lot of people have criticized the filmakers because Kony is old news; he has not been active in Uganda for the past few years.  Why should we worry about him?  Well, the people of Gulu and the surrounding area lived in terror for years and are now suffering the aftermath of countless murders, abductions, mutalations, and torture.

When I found out that Gulu was one of the cities where we would do a medical mission trip with the Gregston family, I wasn’t sure what to expect.  I had heard so much about the damage done by the LRA in that area that I sort of expected to see a lot of disfigured or injured people.  The week before going to Gulu, I had seen an article in the newspaper about a married couple who had overcome adversity.  The bride had been one of the LRA’s victims; her nose and lips had been cut off and she was forced to eat them.  She was so ashamed of her appearance that she didn’t believe she deserved to have someone love her, let alone marry her.  Her groom patiently courted her until she finally trusted that his love for her was real.  Many women are still living in shame for having parts cut off, or worse, done to them.

In Gulu, we did not see many people with scars on the outside, but we knew the scars were there on the inside.  Everyone there has suffered directly or indirectly – lost loved ones, lived in terror, were forced into hiding every night to avoid abduction, or were forced into the LRA as soldiers or sex slaves  . . .  the list is too long and gruesome.  Gulu is now a peaceful place and the people we met were joyful and filled with hope.  They no longer live in fear.  There are many great organizations in Gulu that are helping the people rebuild their shattered lives.

One such organization is St. Monica’s, which is run by Sister Rosemary.  Women are accepted “as they are” and are given a home for themselves and their children, vocational training (cooking and dressmaking), and hope for the future.  Some of these women were former LRA sex slaves (a couple of them were wives of Kony – it is believed that he had more than 80 wives).  Some of these women were not connected to the LRA, but were simply living in poverty and needed help learning how to support their children.  But at St. Monica’s, the focus is not on their past, but on their future.  As we toured the campus, Sister Rosemary showed us the daycare facilities (where the children stay while their mothers attend class), the playground, and the medical clinic (where the women and children, as well as community members outside the school, can come for care for a very small fee).  She also showed us the temporary shelter (large metal shipping containers) where hundreds of “invisible children” sought refuge nightly to avoid abduction.  This was just one of the many places children hid each night during the years of terror.

Sister Rosemary shows Jayne and Jennifer around St. Monica's

Women and children at St. Monica's

While in Gulu, we also visited the Gulu Referral Hospital, to help clean up the grounds (pick up trash) and minister to the patients.  It was such a blessing to be able to pray with the patients I visited.  When we entered the Medical Ward, we saw the hallways, which were used as another hiding place for the “night commuters.”

Restore Leadership Academy is leading the way in education in northern Uganda for secondary students.  This young school was started by Bob Goff to give kids a chance to restore their lives after living through the LRA years.  Many students are being sponsored through Restore International.  We had been looking forward to visiting for over two years.  This was Henry’s school.  He has already graduated, but his younger brother Joseph is still there, so we got to meet him for the first time.  We had met the rest of Henry’s family in Hoima in February, but Joseph was already beginning another school year.  So it was cool to meet the final member of Henry’s family.  It is remarkable to see how much alike they are in speech and expression.  After seeing Henry’s and Joseph’s photos on our fireplace mantle for years, it has been amazing to see them in person in Uganda.

Joseph with Gash family at Restore

We spent two and a half days at Gulu Bible Community Church doing health screenings for school children.  These kids are too young to remember Kony, but I’m sure they have been told about him.  Perhaps they have older siblings who know what it’s like to fear that you will be abducted in the night.  But the kids we saw live in a peaceful Gulu.  They are not afraid.  They do not have to hide at night.  They are full of hope for the future.

Jennifer measures height of children for health screenings

After our first day of screenings, we visited with Sandra, who is about Jennifer’s age.  She speaks english very well and is learning french.  This beautiful, bright young girl hopes to be a lawyer someday.  Sandra is the future of Gulu.

Jennifer and Sandra

I left Gulu feeling encouraged that hope is being restored to the people and there is a new generation growing up in peace and safety.  But we must never forget what Joseph Kony did to Uganda.  He must be brought to justice.  The LRA is currently active in other African countries near Uganda.  So when you hear about Kony and Invisible Children, don’t scoff and say that’s old news.  “Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.” – George Santayana

 

Separation Anxiety

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We recently passed the two-month marker on our African adventure and experienced another event that has caused me to start thinking about the sadness of separation and joyfulness of reunion.

On Monday, March 26th, we woke up to what we thought would be another “ordinary” day in Uganda as we kicked off the second one-third of our six-month adventure.  Within a few minutes, we realized that things had taken a decided turn for the worst.  At some point between 11:30 p.m. and 7:30 a.m., the Gregstons (our Twin Family) had been burglarized in their apartment immediately below ours.  While they slept, a thief had crawled in through a window of their ground-floor apartment and stolen a wad of cash, four laptops, and several other valuable electronic items, leaving through a sliding glass door.  Needless to say, this shook all of us up quite a bit.  You can read the Gregston’s post about it here.

Over the course of the next week, the Gregstons prayed about it and decided that they needed to move to a more secure apartment complex that was nearer to their home base for their medical mission work.  After having lived most waking moments with them for the past two months, we are experiencing a good bit of separation anxiety.  We understood their decision and will likely still see them quite often.  For the time being, since we are on the second floor, and since the place we are staying in beefed up its security measures following the break in, we are planning to stay put.

This week also marked the kick-off of the juvenile justice pilot programme (that is how they spell it here) that I have been working on, and those of us who are involved are pretty excited about the prospect of curing the separation anxiety that the juvenile inmates feel as they wait in prison (many of them for more than a year) for a chance to go to court.  Phase I of this programme is officially underway, and we just learned that the prosecution is going to dismiss one of the fourteen cases immediately because the evidence is insufficient to proceed.  One down, thirteen to go.

On the legal guardianship front, the top-notch attorneys for the Doyle family filed yesterday the formal response to the US Embassy’s prior unfavorable notification with respect to their attempts to bring home baby Eden.  I have posted about them before here, and their heart-wrenching blog is here.  Eden just turned one last month and has been here in Uganda separated from the Doyles (who were granted a legal guardianship order over Eden in November).  I just learned that the Doyles have boarded a plane and are on their way to Uganda right now.  It will be good to meet them in person after having exchanged countless e-mails with them and having spoken with them on the phone several times.  Please be praying that the US Embassy will rule quickly and favorably so that they will never have to be separated from Eden again.

Late last week, I met another family from Atlanta who is here in Uganda in conjunction with their hoped-for adoption of three orphan siblings.  After the Skype conference call between the Ugandan attorneys and American attorneys I wrote about here, the family’s Ugandan attorney realized that the way the events were playing out could potentially put the family in a very difficult position with the US Embassy after the Ugandan court was awarded legal guardianship over the children to the family.  Accordingly, their Ugandan attorney had them contact me, and I connected them with the American attorneys who are now working with this family to ensure that the right procedures are followed between now and their application to the US Embassy for a visa.  It is heartening to see tangible evidence that the connection between the Ugandan and American lawyers is paying dividends for these orphan kids and the would-be adoptive families.

Finally, our family’s separation anxiety from the United States was temporarily diminished when Shane Michael (one of my former students and colleagues here in Uganda) brought back a few bags of chocolate chips after a brief trip he made to the United States.  We knew we were missing chocolate chips, but didn’t know how much until we were able to make a fresh batch of Nestle’s Tollhouse cookies.

Meeting old and new friends

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“Make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other is gold.”  Does that ring a bell for anyone?  That line from a song from childhood keeps going through my head, but I don’t remember where I learned it.

One of the best parts of living in Uganda has been meeting up with old friends and making new friends.  The past couple of weeks have been packed with friend meetings.

One night, we went to dinner with Bob Goff and his group of friends, visiting from America.  We like to say that it’s all Bob’s fault that we moved to Uganda!  Bob has encouraged many to visit Uganda for their first time, which leads to their second, third, fourth, fifth, etc. time.  We enjoyed visiting with our old friend Bob and making new friends.  It turns out we are all FOB (Friends of Bob).

Another night, we went to dinner with the Fitzpatrick family (an American family we just met a couple of weeks ago, who is here to get custody of their new son Job).  We celebrated their oldest daughter’s birthday and their three kids got to hang out with our three kids and the Gregstons’ three kids.  When we said goodbye that night, we hoped not to see them again in Uganda (because we are praying the process will finish quickly and they will get to go home).  They just flew home last night.  We do plan on seeing them back in southern California (it turns out we only live about 20 minutes from each other).

Fitzpatrick, Gash, & Gregston kids

A week ago Saturday, we got to see Henry again at his new school for Sports Day (like our Field Day with lots of sports competitions between the students).  It was good to support Henry and his “house” (think Harry Potter).  He is doing well in his pre-med courses and he continues to make new friends of his own at school.

Jessica & Henry

Last Sunday after church, we went to the food court at the mall in Kampala to meet with a young man named Ahamed, who is sponsored by Jim’s aunt and uncle (Don and Kay Koontz).  They had asked if we could meet with him and take him shopping with the money they sent with us for him.  As we talked, we found out that Ahamed is the same age as Joshua (14), he loves studying history, and hopes to be a lawyer.  He is living in a very poor area of the city with his mother Elizabeth (who is HIV positive) and his six-year-old sister Phoebe (who does not attend school because the family does not have money for school fees, and she doesn’t have a sponsor).  He has another sister named Irene who is eleven and is sponsored, so she can go to a boarding school.  Ahamed has to walk one hour each way to go to church at the Kampala Church of Christ and two hours each way to go to school.  So he was really happy to get a new pair of shoes (in addition to a soccer ball, dictionary, and a bunch of food items for him and his family).

Ahamed with new shoes and ball

 

Gash kids with Ahamed

Ahamed with mother and sister

As we visited with Ahamed and Isaac (the church administrator who accompanied him to the mall), some other members from their church came to the food court for lunch.  As it turns out, we had many friends in common with them.  Here is a photo of our kids with them.  Do you recognize any of them?  Maybe you are a link between us and these new friends.

Gash kids with Kampala Church of Christ members (past & present)

Some people would not bother trying to make new friends, knowing you would only be living in a new place for six months.  But in Uganda, making new friends is a part of daily life.  We are glad to be part of this life.  Our lives are richer because of our old and new friends.

Ghana Be A Long Trip

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I knew Thursday was Ghana be a long day, but I wasn’t smart enough to realize the half of it when I woke up that morning.  Joline and the kids left on Wednesday with the Gregstons for Gulu, so I was alone Wednesday night, but for only part of the night.  My driver picked me up at 3:15 a.m. on Thursday to take me to the airport for a quick trip Ghana.

The church we attend on campus at Pepperdine partially supports a Christian school founded and run by one of our Pepperdine alums, Joseph Dzamesi (pronounced Jah-muh-see).  The Missions Committee at the church asked me to journey from Uganda to Ghana to visit Joseph and the school to provide them with some encouragement.  This also provided the perfect opportunity to visit one of our law alums, Stanley Ahorlu, who helps coordinate the summer program Pepperdine Law has with the Ghana Supreme Court for two of our students.  Stanley was also going to try to introduce me to the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Ghana if he was in.  (Both Joseph and Stanley are from Ghana and returned a few years after they graduated).

Other than the fact that I was a bit tired, the trip started off well.  I arrived at the airport in plenty of time to catch my 5:10 a.m. flight.  Things quickly went south.  As he leafed through my passport, the guy behind the Kenya Airways ticket counter said, “Where is your visa to enter Ghana – I don’t see it in here.”

I just stared stupidly at him as I mentally beat the crap out of myself for not even having thought about a visa.  I have no idea why it never occurred to me, but it didn’t.  Not even for a moment, not even once.  “Um, I’m Ghana get one at the airport in Ghana when I arrive,” I said, more as a question than as an answer.

He looked at me like I was a moron, then proved it – “You didn’t go the Ghana embassy here in Kampala to get one before you boarded the plane?  It is very quick and easy.”

The only comeback I could muster in reply was a goofy embarrassed stare and the word, “no.”

He handed me my boarding pass as he shook his head and pointed to the boarding gate, confident, I am sure, that I would be back in Kampala sooner than I was scheduled to be.  As I walked to the gate, I contemplated my options.  First, I could postpone my trip and beg for a refund of the nearly $1,000 ticket.  But Joseph was traveling the three hours from his hometown to the airport and had moved his schedule around to accommodate my visit.  Besides, what would be my excuse to Kenya Airways – I am too stupid to plan ahead (though I purchased the ticket nearly a month ago) so please give me money back?  Second, I could press ahead and see if I could talk my way into Ghana.  After all, Uganda allows visitors to buy entry visas at the airport.  Surely Ghana does also, right?  I decided to press forward.

After filling out my exit documents between the ticket counter and gate at the Entebbe, Uganda aiport, I approached the immigration booth.  I handed my passport and boarding pass to the nice lady behind the counter.  “Ghana fly to Ghana, huh?”  Flip, flip, flip.  “Where is your visa?”

“Ghana get it when I arrive,” I said with much more confidence than before.

Same surprised look that betrayed a hint of pity for the idiot standing in front her.  She mumbled something like, “Not my problem” and stamped my passport.

The one-hour flight to Kenya where I would lay over for three hours was uneventful, though I will confess to feeling a mounting sense of dread about what would happen when I arrived in Ghana.  In Kenya, I found a lounge with internet and logged on to the Ghana immigration website.  Near the top of the page was the following notification:

“All foreigners entering Ghana, unless covered by para 3(1) require Entry Visas. Entry Visas must be obtained prior to arrival in Ghana and may be obtained from a Ghana Embassy, High Commission or Consulate abroad.”

Crap.

My eyes frantically scanned down the page for any potential exceptions.  This is all I found:

“Referals (for British Diplomatic Missions and Consulates)

I. Entry Visas may be issued in accordance with the Visa Regime to the following categories of persons without reference to Accra.

1. Members of Diplomatic and Foreign Consular officers “de carriere” travelling to or through Ghana on official business.”

So there I sat in Kenya, about two hours before my six-hour flight to Ghana, once again trying to figure out if I would get on a flight back to Kampala and admit failure or just press ahead and see if I could talk my way in.  Then I remembered something.

When Bob Goff came to Kampala, he brought with him some cool new business cards for me, which named me Chief of Staff to the Uganda Consulate.  Bob is Uganda Consulate.

New Business Cards

Even though the exception explicitly contemplated British Consulates, I figured it was worth a try.  I tried to channel my inner Bob Goff to figure out what he would do.  I concluded that Bob would smile, be really charming, and tell the truth when he arrived at the Ghana Airport.  I decided to give it a shot.

When I boarded the plane, I instantly realized there was a problem of a different kind.  My boarding pass had me in Seat 22G, but there were only three seats on each side of the center aisle: A, B, C on the right, and D, E, and F on the left.  The stewardess apologized and said the G really should have said “D” (I always try to get an aisle seat so I have more room to work on my laptop).  Well, when I got to 22G, there was rather large Kenyan woman in my seat.  The middle seat next to her was open and there was a purse on the window seat.  She saw me looking at the seat she was occupying and at my boarding pass and said, “I am sitting here, you can sit somewhere else.”  Before I could question her, the stewardess said over the intercom, “We need to leave so just take any available seat – don’t worry about sitting in your assigned seat.”  Big Kenyan lady gives me a wide grin and smugly says, “You heard her, just take any open seat.  This one is not open.”

My blood pressure spiked, but I tried to maintain control.  “Is the seat next to you open?”  She just shrugged and looked the other way.  By this time, the passengers waiting behind me started grumbling at me to take a seat, so I squeezed by her and started to sit in the middle seat.

“Whose purse is that in the window seat?” I politely asked through gritted teeth.

“It’s mine.  I am saving that seat for a friend who is coming.”

My turn to sport a wide grin and smugly say, “You heard the stewardess.  Any open seat . . .”  I handed the purse to her and plopped down into the aisle seat and gave her devious smile.  She was not pleased.

Just after we took off, she started to doze off.  “Excuse me.  What is the time difference between Kenya and Ghana?”  The next three times she fell asleep, I woke her up so I could use the bathroom.  The last time I got in, I knocked her hot coffee all over her lap and then laughed in her face.  OK, so maybe I didn’t wake her up, never used the restroom, and never spilled coffee on her but I sure wanted to.  Is that wrong?

Once we arrived in Ghana, I took a deep breath, put on a smile and strode confidently to the immigration booth.  I handed the officer my passport and my two Ugandan business cards – one showing I worked for the Ugandan High Court and the other showing I was a “diplomat.”

Flip, flip, flip.  “Where is your visa?”

“I don’t have one yet; I need to get one here,” I said with every ounce of confidence I could muster.

“We do not issue visas at the airport; you must get them before you arrive.”  He made no effort to mask his exasperation.

I pointed to my business cards, and said, “I work for the High Court of Uganda and I am here for one day.  I plan to meet with Chief Justice Dotse later this afternoon.  I would like a diplomatic visa, please.”  All of this was entirely true.

“Where is your diplomatic passport?”

“I don’t have one,” I said as I again pointed to my business cards as if they were magical.

He sighed and instructed me to stand to the side as he consulted with another officer.  A few minutes later, the other officer called me over and said, “You should have gotten a visa before you came.  Make sure you do so next time.”

Whew.

Joseph was waiting for me outside and he took me to see Stanley, the law alum.  They were old friends from the years they overlapped at Pepperdine.  (They were two of three Ghanaians at Pepperdine in the late 1990s).  After our meeting with Stanley, we headed north to Joseph’s hometown of Ho.  (And yes, I giggled the first time I heard the name.  I am not just an idiot, I am also immature).  Unfortunately, the Supreme Court Justice unexpectedly had to leave town, so I never had a chance to meet with him.

Joseph has a wonderful family – Jennifer is his wife and his three kids are Justin (6), Jason (4), and Janelle (1).  They cooked a fantastic Ghanaian meal of chicken curry, rice, fried plantains, avocado, and pineapple.  Since Ghana is three hours earlier than Uganda, I was beat and turned in early.  I also got up early to finish preparing my fifteen-minute devotional/sermon to the five hundred kids at the Sonrise Christian High School that Joseph started and now runs.  This school is only about six years old, but is already the top-ranked private school in Northern Ghana.

Worship Time at Sonrise Christian High School

After a tour of the school, we headed back to Ghana’s capital city, Accra, which is noticeably more developed than Kampala, Uganda.  The roads are much wider and very well paved, unlike in Kampala.  The buildings are also bigger and newer, and everything is much cleaner.  Several years ago, boda bodas (motorcycle taxis) were banned, so everything seems much more orderly.  Given its deep water port, Ghana has a huge shipping industry that powers its growing economy.  It is also only one of a small handful of African countries with single-digit inflation, and is one of only a few African countries where there has been a peaceful transfer of power after democratic elections.  I am confident that I will be back to Ghana in the next few years.

Fortunately, the redeye trip home went by quickly, thanks to some well-timed pharmaceutical assistance.

Our God is Able

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Our God is Able has become one of my favorite songs since we came to Africa. It’s just so true, and I see it especially here. The healing power of our Lord is so amazing and quite frankly, unfathomable. For those of you who have been to Africa, you know what I’m talking about. The hope and strength that the widows find in the Lord is beautiful, and I wish everyone trusted the Lord with their life that much. It makes me tear just to think about how many lives God saves through the work of other people. In fact, I’m crying right now because it’s so hard to see how much these people go through, and yet they still have the strength to carry on. One part of that song that amazes me is:

God is with us

He will go before

He will never leave us

He will never leave us

God is for us

He has open arms

He will never fail us

He will never fail us

I love how the song repeats “He will never leave us” and “He will never fail us”. Because it is just SO true! God will NEVER leave us, and even when all hope seems lost, we just have to remember that he will never leave us or fail us. It’s important that those phrases are repeated because they help emphasize the fact that those are two important things that we should never forget.

At church this last week, I was just so excited when this song started playing. I wanted to jump and dance with the other Ugandans, but I also wanted to savor the time that the song was playing. Yes, I know I can just play it off You Tube, but You Tube doesn’t show all of the beautiful people looking happier than I ever knew a person could be, just to be worshipping God. For me, church in Uganda is… breathtaking. When the church is singing, everything else just melts away, and that moment of complete and utter joy is so humbling that I don’t even have words the describe it. I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but I think that Uganda has taken my heart. If only I didn’t ever have to leave…

-Jennifer

Building Bridges

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A couple weeks ago, I wrote about an unexpected opportunity I had been given to get involved, sometimes in big ways and sometimes in small ways, with the legal guardianship process numerous American families are going through here in Uganda.  (I had no intentions of having anything to do with this when I came to Uganda).  It is more than a little inspiring to see these families respond to the undeniable call they feel to step out of their comfortable lives and add to their families in ways that are rather uncomfortable in order to provide a loving home for a child who is alone and unloved.

Since we arrived in Uganda two months ago, my family and I have met close to a dozen families in various stages of the process.  Some families were here before we arrived and have just recently left.  Others have come and gone since we arrived.  Still others have arrived and are hoping to be able to leave with the newest member of their family soon.  One couple I have recently gotten to know (via e-mail and telephone) had come and gone before we arrived, but their child is still here, caught up in a legal tangle the family has been desperately trying to resolve.

In a somewhat oversimplified nutshell, here is how the process works if an American family decides it wants to adopt a Ugandan orphan:

The process starts with an American family filing with the U.S. government an Application for Advanced Processing of Orphan Petition (called an I-600A Petition).  This petition essentially seeks a classification that the parents are eligible to adopt a foreign-born child.  This involves a “home study” and a demonstration by the would-be adoptive parents that they have the background and stability to care for this child.  After an investigation, the USCIS will issue a Notice of Favorable Determination Concerning Application for Advance Processing of an Orphan Petition (called an I-171H document) if the family is approved for adoption of a foreign-born child.

During this time, the family is typically working with an agency in the United States who is, in turn, working with an agency/home/orphanage in Uganda to match the American parents with a Ugandan orphan.  The Ugandan orphan arrives at a home or orphanage in a variety of ways – usually by death or abandonment by the parents.  Once the American parents get their I-171H, they (usually through the American agency they are using) hire a Ugandan attorney to shepherd them and the child through the Ugandan government’s process.  Sometimes, the parents hire the Ugandan lawyer before getting their I-171H, but it is best to wait until the American approval is in hand.

The Ugandan lawyer then hires an investigator to confirm that the child meets the Ugandan requirements for adoptability of the child.  This involves seeking to track down parents or relatives of the child and tracing the chain of events that led the child to be placed into a home or orphanage.  This adoptability determination also involves the local social welfare and probation officer preparing and signing an affidavit as to the current status of the child.  Once this process is complete and the child is initially shown to be adoptable under Ugandan law, the Ugandan attorney applies for a court date and files an application for legal guardianship.  (The reason the application is not for adoption is because Ugandan law precludes a non-Ugandan family from directly adopting a child unless the family first cares for the child in Uganda for three years).  Once a court date is secured, the American family flies to Uganda to meet, usually for the first time, the child they are seeking to add to their family.

The arrival of the American family is usually timed such that the court hearing takes place within a week of their arrival.  If all of the work has been done correctly and nothing problematic emerges during the court hearing while the judge is examining the witnesses about the child, then the court will typically issue an order granting legal guardianship over the child within a week or so of the hearing.  From there, the adoptive parents apply for a Ugandan passport for the child that will allow the child to leave Uganda.  With the court order granting legal guardianship in hand, this is purely an administrative process, but it usually takes at least a week or two for the immigration office issue the passport.  Once the family has the passport allowing the child to leave Uganda, they next need a visa from the U.S. Embassy allowing the child to enter the United States.  This process involves filing a Petition to Classify an Orphan as an Immediate Relative (called an I-600 petition) that attaches the court ruling and Ugandan passport, and leads to an interview with the U.S. Embassy in Kampala, Uganda.

While the ruling from the Ugandan court certifying that the child is adoptable under Ugandan law is necessary to securing a visa, it is not sufficient.  The U.S. Embassy is duty bound to make an independent assessment as to whether the child meets the definition of “orphan” under United States law.  As you might expect, Uganda’s definition of “adoptable” is not identical with the U.S. definition of “orphan.”  The U.S. Embassy in Kampala is authorized to issue a visa for the child if the evidence presented clearly meets the requirements under the I-604 form used by the U.S. Embassy.  If everything is clear and straightforward, then the U.S. Embassy in Kampala issues a visa and the family travels home.  If, however, the petition is not clearly approvable, then the case is transferred to the USCIS office in Nairobi, Kenya.

The USCIS office then can approve the visa if it concludes everything is fine, or it can issue a Request for Evidence, which gives the family 87 days in order to produce additional evidence that demonstrates that the child is an orphan under American law.  Because the Ugandan attorney has completed the process of securing the legal guardianship, and because the Ugandan attorney is unfamiliar with U.S. immigration laws, this is often the time the American parents hire an American attorney to help them navigate this process.  After the American family responds to the Request for Evidence, the USCIS in Kenya either grants the visa or issues a Notice of Intent to Deny the visa application.  The family then has 33 days to overcome this intent to deny by providing the necessary information.  This is major scramble time.

This is precisely where a wonderful American couple finds themselves right now.  This family got all of their paperwork completed in the United States, were matched with an infant girl who was barely clinging to life after being born addicted to drugs, got their court date, and then came to Uganda in November to give this precious little girl a family.  Unfortunately, the birth mother has had mental challenges since she was a girl and doesn’t have any sense of motherhood (or reality – she accidentally killed her first child and thinks she, herself, is only eight years old), and often disappears for weeks on end.  The child had eventually been taken by her uncle to an orphanage because he was unable to care for the very sick and neglected child.

At the court hearing, the judge (a God-fearing and compassionate man) granted them legal guardianship over the girl.  They were thrilled.  They got a Ugandan passport for the girl, and then had their appointment with U.S. Embassy in Kampala.  After inspecting the paperwork and conducting the interview, the U.S. Embassy determined that the case was not clearly approvable because of issues relating to the “knowing relinquishment” by the mentally incompetent mother.  Unfortunately, this is one of the situations where Ugandan law and American law differ in a material way.  And since the Ugandan lawyers didn’t know the ins and outs of American law, and since no American lawyer had yet been engaged, the court’s order failed to satisfy the requirements of American law, though it did satisfy the requirements of Ugandan law.  Accordingly, this case was sent to the USCIS office in Kenya for review.  Sadly, the American parents had to return home to their other children without their child while this process unfolded.  Fortunately, a saint of a young woman took in their little girl (along with the dozen-plus she is already raising), and gave her a wonderful, albeit temporary, home.

The USCIS office issued a Request for Evidence.  The family gathered and submitted additional evidence.  Unfortunately, however, the birth mother escaped from a mental hospital before a full examination and report could be issued.  Nevertheless, the family hoped the new evidence they submitted would be enough to secure the visa.  No dice.  The USCIS in Kenya issued a Notice of Intent to Deny, which gave the family 33 days to overcome this presumption.  Shortly after this Notice was issued, I was contacted by the little girl’s current caretaker, by Sara Ribbens (another American mother I assisted shortly after I got to Uganda), and by an American lawyer I was getting to know in conjunction with the Ribbens’ case and another case with which I was trying to help.  I couldn’t help but feel like I was supposed to get involved, so I did.  After a series of meetings and after securing a new Ugandan lawyer for the family, a new order was issued by the Ugandan judge that directly addressed the concerns expressed in the Notice of Intent to Deny.  This new order was entirely consistent with the court’s prior order, but tracked the language needed under United States law.  It is no coincidence that the meeting that broke the logjam occurred on the little girl’s first birthday and the new order was issued on the adoptive mother’s birthday.

There are now less than ten days before the American attorneys need to file a response to the USCIS in Kenya (incorporating the new order into the response), so we are by no means home free.  We believe, however, that this new order more than adequately addresses the concerns raised in the Notice.  Please pray that this home stretch goes smoothly.

All along the way, I have been trying to educate the Ugandan lawyers with whom I have been working on American law, and trying to relay to the American lawyers the situation on the ground in Uganda.  Since I am not at all experienced or trained in either Ugandan or American family law, I suggested to both sides that we schedule a Skype call so that everyone could get to know one another and to better understand how they could work together to ensure that this sort of thing (meeting the requirements of one country’s laws while failing to meeting the other country’s laws) could be avoided in the future.

On Wednesday afternoon, six Ugandan lawyers (nearly the entire group of lawyers in Uganda who handle American legal guardianships) gathered in my office and we spent the better part of three hours discussing (with two American lawyers who handle most of the cases that get hung up at the U.S. Embassy) the common questions and challenges that arise.  Everyone thought it went very well, and it looks like the American lawyers are going to be coming to Uganda in the next month or two to expand upon the collaboration in person.

Please be praying that this bridge being built between the American and Ugandan lawyers will enable more children to be placed with families more quickly and efficiently.  Please also be praying that the USCIS will issue a visa for the little Ugandan girl to cross the Atlantic Bridge and join her family soon.

To read more about the plight of the young girl and her adoptive family I have been discussing above, click on the family’s blog here.

What called us to Africa?

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My idea about how we first came to Africa for six months is a little bit different than that of the rest of my family. We are here mostly because of Bob, but partially because of Casting Crowns. In case you didn’t know who Casting Crowns was, I’ll tell you. Casting Crowns is a Christian band that our family likes to listen to. When I was in fourth grade, we went to a Casting Crowns concert at Calvary Church, a few months before my dad went to Africa the first time.

During the intermission, the lead singer of the band was speaking about sponsorships with World Vision. He was talking about how it’s a great thing to do as a family, and he encouraged everyone at the concert to go by the World Vision table.  Of course, my dad went to check it out. Sort of like when he goes to “check out” the bakery and comes back with a bag of cookies.  We know he wasn’t going just to look. He was going to choose a child that he was going to change the life of forever.

Destiny Moyo. The beautiful little girl that our family was going to sponsor was named Destiny Moyo, and she was from Zimbabwe, a country in southern Africa. I kept asking my parents if we could go and meet Destiny, but my mom said, “We are NOT going to Africa!” Haha!! Little did she know…

It’s interesting that her name is Destiny, because it wasn’t just by chance that Destiny is the one we are sponsoring. God decided that we needed to help her out, because it was our destiny. Part of the plan that God had written out for our family. Little did we know that Africa would be a BIG part of that plan. Thanks for reading!

-Jennifer

Goffing Around in Uganda, Part II

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Continuing on from yesterday . . .

When Bob Goff, the two pastors, Margaret (court registrar), and I walked into the warden’s office, it was clear that he remembered Bob, Margaret, and me from our visit in November.  I suspect that having a witch doctor give his life to Jesus while praying with a couple mzungus and a charismatic preacher woman is not an everyday occurrence for the warden in his office.

Before Kabe (the witch doctor) arrived, we talked with the warden about the prison conditions and learned that Kabe shared a cell with 106 other prisoners.  In trying to envision what this looked like, we asked where everyone slept.  The warden explained that there wasn’t room for beds, so the prisoners slept on the floor.  Most of them had small mattresses, but some of them slept directly on the floor.  After a few minutes, a guard walked Kabe into the warden’s office.

As before, Kabe was in the prison-issue bright yellow shorts and shirt.  But his demeanor was very different than last November.  He was much more confident and smiled when he saw Bob, who, of course, gave him a big hug.

“Thank you for coming back to see me,” Kabe said in pretty good (and loud) English.  He had spoken no English last time and had spoken just barely above a whisper.

“I told you I would, and I have been thinking and praying about you a lot.  How have you been?” Bob replied.

Kabe turned to Margaret and asked for her to interpret because he said it was easier to speak in his native language.  Kabe proceeded to explain that he has been doing much better since the prior visit when he “got saved.”  He says he thinks about home less often, and doesn’t get sad when he does.  He also reported that he has decided that if he ever gets out of prison, he wants to become an evangelist for Jesus.  He said that he has been talking to some of his fellow prisoners about his conversion.  Kabe also told us he was grateful for the money we had left with the warden to put on his account – he had purchased sugar, rice, and a few extra things.

Bob then presented Kabe with a Bible printed in his native language, though his English Bible was in his front shirt pocket and appeared to be getting quite a bit of use.

During the course of our thirty-minute visit with Kabe, we learned that his father was a witch doctor and Kabe took over his “practice” when he died.  Kabe said that earlier in his life, he had been Christian but had turned away.

It was so encouraging to see the palpable change in his life that his decision to follow Jesus had brought.  I will confess to having previously wondered whether his conversion would “stick” or whether it was a case of him doing what he thought we wanted him to do.  The pastors shared some scriptures with him and we had a big group prayer and exchanged lots of hugs.  At one point, Bob asked Kabe where he slept.

“On the floor.”

“On a mattress on the floor, or directly on the floor?”

“On the floor.  I have no mattress.”

Bob then turned to the warden.  “How can we get him a mattress?”

Within a few moments, Bob had arranged for the warden to get the mattress, and we left some additional money for more sugar and rice for Kabe.

“One more thing,” Bob said.  “Are the prisoners allowed to wear shoes?”

“Yes, if they have them,” replied the warden quizzically.

Bob sat down and instructed Kabe to do the same.  Bob then removed his dress shoes and put them on Kabe.  Perfect fit.  Kabe looked into Bob’s gleaming eyes through his own wet eyes and they hugged again.

Margaret then asked the warden if she could come back to preach the gospel to the prisoners.  The warden said that as long as he had advance notice, that would be fine.  How many of the prisoners would attend, asked Margaret.  All 732 of them, replied the warden.

One of the pastors with us loved the idea so much that he said that he would come back for it.  He asked Kabe if he might be interested in sharing his testimony with the other prisoners.  Kabe said that he would be happy to do so.  No date has been set, but there was some talk about this happening in May.  I definitely won’t miss this.

I couldn’t help but grin broadly as I walked out behind Bob who was walking a bit more gingerly in his black socks.

Out in the prison parking lot, Hero was waiting for us.  He had ridden with Margaret (with whom he is now living in Kampala), but didn’t have any idea where we were or with whom we were meeting.  He was every bit as playful and silly as ever, so it was good catching up with him.

Jim and Hero Outside the Maximum Security Prison

Earlier that morning, Hero had seen his mom and younger brother for the first time in five months.  Margaret tells us that it was a joyful reunion.  Later that afternoon, our group had lunch with nearly all of the judges who had previously visited Pepperdine (about ten of them).  In fact, it was the Chief Justice’s birthday so we all sang happy birthday to him and the restaurant owner presented him with a huge bouquet of roses.

The following day, the Gashes got up early and drove out to see Henry at his school for “Sports Day” – one of two days in the semester that we are allowed to visit him at the school.  It resembled an American version of “Field Day” with lots of races and tug-of-war contests among the various dorms/houses.  We enjoyed catching up with him and hearing how things are going – quite well.

Henry, Joshua, and Henry's Physics Teacher at Sports Day

Unfortunately, I had to miss the Goffing that took place on Saturday.  Bob rented a house, and then the big group split into several smaller groups and spent the better part of the day buying furniture and furnishings for the otherwise empty house.  By the end of the day, it was ready to provide a fresh start for more than a dozen former prostitutes that will be rescued over the course of the next couple of weeks.  Bob’s organization, Restore International, and a couple churches are partnering to provide for these vulnerable girls with a new life.

Needless to say, all of this has been quite inspiring.  But then again, time with Bob always is.

“Goffing” Around in Uganda

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“Goff” is a verb.  It is the act of turning anything one can imagine into a caper.

I have never had even one dull moment with Bob Goff.  Time spent with Bob never fails to make me laugh, cry, and think.    The past few days have fit the pattern perfectly.

On Thursday morning, I left Kampala at 5:00 a.m. heading north to Masindi where I was to meet up with Bob and a crew of others from the United States.  Bob and company had been in Gulu for several days and were making their way back down to Kampala via Masindi.  I needed to be in Masindi anyway for an important meeting in conjunction with a legal guardianship matter that has gotten hung up in the system.

The drive to Masindi was more emotional than I expected it to be.  As I rode the three hours under the cover of darkness, my mind drifted back to January of 2010, when I traveled the same road at about the same time.  Shortly thereafter, I met Henry and fell deeply in love with a country and with the idea of endeavoring to improve an underdeveloped criminal justice system.

As we pulled into the parking lot of the High Court – the place Henry was vindicated in one case, then convicted in another – all of the emotions associated with this town, both good and bad, flooded back.  I had a chance to meet with the judge who convicted Henry nearly two years ago, and the other judge who sentenced him to probation.  I had the opportunity to update the sentencing judge on Henry, and he was thrilled to hear that Henry was thriving.  The judge who convicted him has no idea that I will soon be seeking to overturn this conviction in the court of appeals.  This judge is a good man, a really good man, but he got this one wrong and I intend to prove it.  As you might expect, he and I did not discuss Henry at all.  The meeting about the legal guardianship matter went as well as hoped, and there will likely be a new hearing on this case early next week.  I will speak more freely about this once things move into the public phase.

After the legal guardianship meeting, I met up with Bob’s crew again (I had a chance to hang out with this team at the Cornerstone House for former child prostitutes earlier in the week.  You can read Joline’s and Jessica’s posts about this experience here and here, respectively).  The Goff crew includes pastors from Rancho Santa Fe and Portland, a doctor from San Diego, a school teacher from Seattle, a couple guys who work in missions for a church in Atlanta, a photographer from Austin, a writer from Irvine, a father and daughter from Nashville, an attorney from Pittsburgh, a missionary from another part of Africa, and Hero’s surrogate father during his stay in Southern California for his surgery (I had gotten to know (and pray with) Ted Worrell while we waited together for Hero to emerge from his reconstructive surgery late last year).  Those in this crew have three things in common – a deep and abiding love for God, a desire to follow the example of Jesus, and some connection to Bob Goff.

From the courthouse, we all traveled out to the third meeting of witch doctors Bob has convened in the past few months.  I was with him for the first one in November that was held in Mukono and it was surreal.  The second such meeting took place in Gulu earlier this week – I wasn’t able to attend this one, but I am told it ended with Bob washing feet.  This third one was in Masindi, and the location was not accidental.

Masindi is where then eight year-old Hero was drugged, dragged, hacked, and left for dead.  By the grace of God, Masindi is also where Hero fought for his life, identified his assailant, and testified in the trial that convicted the witch doctor.  Hero’s case is well known by everyone in the area and was the topic of much of the discussion.  At this conference, like the others, the witch doctors were put on notice that the relatively new law in trafficking in body parts carries with it the death penalty and it will be relentlessly prosecuted.

Hero’s mom still lives in Masindi and wasn’t able to get to Kampala to welcome Hero back to Uganda when he landed last weekend.  In fact, Ted Worrell, with whom Hero lived in the United States, hadn’t ever met Hero’s mom (though they had spoken on the phone) and was eager to do so.  During one of the breaks in the conference, I caught a blur of a blue dress out of the corner of my eye as the woman wearing it gave me a bear hug.  Ugandans are huggers by nature, as am I, so I hugged back.  As we released our embrace, I realized that it was Hero’s mom.  We had spent a couple days together in November before Hero left and had gotten to be friends.  I gave her another hug, looked around until I found what I was looking for, and then led her by the hand over to introduce her to someone.

“Ted, I would like you to meet someone very special.  This is Hero’s mom.”  My voice cracked and faded as I explained to Hero’s mom who Ted was.  Tears, hugs, and snot bubbles ensued.

And that was just me.

They were both crying also.  Hero’s mom dropped to her knees and thanked him through her sobs of gratitude for being the father to Hero that he never had.  (Hero still refers to Ted as “daddy.”)  Ted pulled her to her feet and thanked her for the opportunity he and his family had to be a part of Hero’s life.  It was quite a touching moment.

Hero's Mom and Ted Worrell

Also at the witch doctor conference was a man named William, who was the probation officer/warden at the Remand Home where Henry had lived for nearly two years.  William and Henry had gotten to be close, and I was pleased to be able to update him on Henry’s new life.  Unfortunately, William informed me that the Remand Home had filled up again and we discussed the possibility of another team of lawyers traveling to Masindi to prepare the cases for trial.

That afternoon, we hung out with the High Court judge in Masindi (discussed above) at his house.  We had the opportunity to pray for and with him as he seeks to deliver justice to Ugandans.

That evening (Thursday), we traveled halfway back to Kampala and stayed at a ranch owned and operated by Cornerstone.  I wish I had more time to write about how special that place is (and the American woman named Maggie who runs it), but suffice it to say that food and the fellowship were both outstanding.  Maggie is throwing lots and lots of starfish who have washed up on shore.

On Friday morning, Bob, John Niemeyer (Restore’s Country Director and one of my favorite people in the world), the two pastors, and I got up early and drove back to Kampala.  More specifically, we drove to Luzira – the maximum security prison where the witch doctor who dismembered Hero is serving a fifty-year sentence.  Margaret, a court registrar who is also a pastor, met us there.

Last time I was here in November, Bob, Margaret, and I went to visit the witch doctor in prison.  During that visit, the witch doctor surrendered his life to Jesus.  If you haven’t read that story, I encourage you to do so now.  Here it is.  Notwithstanding the fact that I wrote it, it is well worth the read and will prepare you for my next post tomorrow, when I describe all the Goffing that happened during this unforgettable visit.

Who is my neighbor?

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When we told our family and friends that we were moving to Uganda for six months, a few asked if we were going to live in a mud hut and have an outhouse.  I’m not kidding!  Don’t feel silly if you were one of those people – it was a fair question.  The answer is no, we are not living in a mud hut.  We are living in a modern apartment with electricity and running water (and indoor toilets).  It may sound like I’m trying to justify our choice of where we live, but we feel like we need to provide our family with a safe and clean environment.  When we work during the day at one of the mobile medical clinics with Africa Renewal Ministries, we do use outhouses and work in buildings that are just a step up from mud huts.  These clinics have been located in various places, some far and some near.  When we were told that we were going to work in a clinic this week in Namuwongo, I had no idea how near it was.  Namuwongo is a stone’s throw away from our apartment in Bugolobi.

Namuwongo is just across swamp from our apartment in Bugolobi

Okay, so maybe it is a baseball’s throw away.  But it’s really close (about 500 yards).  In this photo, you can look across the swamp and see the tiny buildings with metal roofs on the edge of the swamp.  The only thing separating us is the swamp, which provides a sanctuary for many birds, but also mosquitoes.

The "streets" of Namuwongo

Children playing in trash heap next to train tracks

Crowded living space

The difference between Bugolobi and Namuwongo is like day and night.  This is the worst area I have seen in Uganda in terms of poverty and unclean living conditions.  The neighborhood we visited is made up of rows and rows of shacks, most made of wood planks and covered with metal roofs, with dirt floors and no electricity or running water.  The church, where we set up the medical clinic, consists of wood planks for walls and an orange tarp for a roof.  The 20 foot by 20 foot space was packed with wooden benches – barely room to move about.  Our team was welcomed by Pastor Abbey who shepherds many of the people in this community.  We were offering free medical screenings and medicine to children under 10 years old, and Pastor Abbey offered to counsel and pray with the families who visited the clinic.  During the two-day clinic, 242 patients were seen and 41 people (parents of the children being treated) accepted Jesus as their Lord.  A little girl who attended the church had been trying to get her mother to come to church with her, but she had refused to do so for a long time.  The girl convinced her mother to come to the clinic with her, and her mother accepted Jesus.  This clinic not only provided physical health, but spiritual health.

Patients waiting to be seen by doctor

Joline & Jessica working in pharmacy

Jessica and I worked as pharmacists at the clinic on the second day.  Actually, Jessica was the pharmacist and I was her assistant.  She has had more experience in pharmacy and knows how to decipher the doctors’ shorthand.  My job was to fill orders that Jessica would give me, most of which required counting and often cutting pills into child appropriate doses.  As each order was filled, Jessica would explain to the mom (through our translator Eva) how to give the medications.  It was a privilege to work with my daughter all day and see how good she is at doing her job.

The hard part of this clinic was working in the tiny church that felt like a sauna, smelled like an outhouse, was crowded with mothers holding crying babies and had more flies than you could shake a stick at (I don’t even know what that means, but I was wishing for a stick).  We were thankful that we had newspaper to fan ourselves and to shoo away the flies from our pharmacy table.  We sat on a small wooden bench on the uneven dirt floor, with sweat dripping off of us.  We didn’t want to drink too much water because we would have to find an outhouse (not sure they even had one).  Little children outside the shack would peak through the wooden planks behind us, calling, “Mzungu” (sounds like ma-zoon-goo).  It was good that our work kept us busy, so we were distracted from the heat, sounds, and smells.  But when we did have a moment, in between filling prescriptions, we could look up and see the beautiful faces of the mothers and children we were there to help.  These are our neighbors across the swamp.  These are the beautiful starfish we have been called to rescue.