On Wednesday, I had my first Kamp’ing’ experience in Uganda and did not like it at all.  I loved camping as a kid.  As an adult?  Not so much.  There is something about being the one responsible for setting up the tent that sours the entire experience.

For the past three and a half years, I have devoted significant efforts in Uganda to expedite the time it takes to get to trial for juveniles confined to remand homes in advance of trial.  Many of those who plead guilty or who are convicted after a trial are released because they have already been confined in the remand home for longer than the sentence they receive.  But those who are given sentences longer than the time already served are sent to the National Rehabilitation Centre (British spelling intended).  This Centre is commonly referred to as Kampiringisa.  (See how I cleverly apostrophized the word to make it Kamp’ing’??)

For about two years, I have been intending to visit Kampiringisa with Sixty Feet, who sends a team out there every Monday and Wednesday, but the timing never seemed to work.  Well, it worked on Wednesday.  With the Pepperdine team safely back in Los Angeles, and with Joline and Jessica still on the road here in Uganda, I finally had a chance to join the Sixty Feet folks for a visit.

It was as bad as I had heard.  Not only are there more than thirty juveniles serving sentences there, but there are also about eighty other kids there on “care and protection” orders.  “Care and protection” means they are there not as prisoners, but as homeless kids.  Some of them are there because their parents don’t want to look after them anymore, or because they were causing trouble at home.  But most of them are from the Karamojong tribe, and they have arrived at Kampiringisa after being rounded up by the local governmental authority when they periodically clear the streets of begging children.  Most (perhaps all) of these kids are on the streets begging as a result of being sent or sold by their parents to work as part of group of beggars for an adult handler.

The Karamojong (or K-jongs as they are called) are considered by the other Ugandan tribes as the lowly outcasts of society.  Indigenous Ugandans can easily distinguish them from the others and routinely single them out for mistreatment.  It is quite sad.  The same is true at Kampiringisa.  The other children don’t interact with them, and the local government authority won’t let Sixty Feet provide mattresses for them to sleep on, so they sleep on the concrete floor.  When food is served, they are served separately and last.  They are the most malnourished among the inhabitants of Kampiringisa.  Sixty Feet takes active steps to counter this, including relocating many of them to another location (with express, written approval) to be nourished back to health.

All of this I had been told in advance of my arrival.  When we arrived, Kelsey (lead Sixty Feet intern) gave me a tour of the property.  Sobering doesn’t even begin to describe it.  Whenever new inmates arrive, they are put into a cell for about two weeks in order to break their spirits.  There is no bed and no toilet facility, only a plastic can in the corner of this eight-by-ten box.  They are not let out at all during this two-week period.  From there, the prisoners are transferred to the “black room” where they stay about thirty days, until they are adjudged sufficiently docile to be able to roam the premises.  In the padlocked black room, there are about twenty beds, toilet facilities (a hole in the ground), a television, and a place to bathe.

Situated throughout the rest of the property are a smattering of buildings, some of which are used for administration and sleeping, and some of which are abandoned.  The children mill around all day.  Some play soccer with plastic bags tied up with string, some cook posho and beans over large pots, and others just sit and stare into nothingness.  The K-jongs stay together in small groups.

After the tour, Kelsey and I joined the others in the medical clinic they set up each Monday and Wednesday.  Any kid who is sick or injured gets treated by the combined American and Ugandan nursing staff.  For close to an hour, I held a very small girl with an ear infection.  She weighed less than ten pounds, but was between eighteen months and two years old.  She was badly malnourished and the nursing staff feared she had AIDS.  She didn’t even have the strength to cry (or wince) when they pricked her finger and tested her blood.  We held our collective breaths as we awaited the results.  Negative.  Thank God.

Her ear was oozing puss, so the Ugandan nurse twisted some cotton and thoroughly cleaned it out.  The devil’s-tailpipe smell of what came out raised the bile in my stomach to dangerously high altitudes.  I barely kept it down.  She didn’t even whimper.  Later, Sixty Feet requested and received permission to move her and older brother to another location where they can be nursed back to health.

From the medical clinic area, Kelsey and I returned to the black room and played cards with the kids for about an hour.  Everyone in Uganda, it seems, plays the same card game, which is a variation on Crazy Eights.

I left there more convinced than when I came that something needs to be done about Kampiringisa, and it needs to be done quickly.  At the very least, those serving sentences for crimes (such as defilement of children) should not be allowed to roam around young kids brought there for “care and protection.”  Perhaps that will be one of my next projects . . .

Thursday was a day of meetings, including one with Regent Professor David Velloney and Uganda Christian University Professor Brian Dennison.  They are jointly running a summer program at UCU that has ten students, six of whom are from Regent, two are from Trinity, and one each from Florida State and Southwestern Law Schools, respectively.  We all had lunch at a local Chinese restaurant and talked about Pepperdine’s efforts to advance the rule of law here in Uganda.

I also had a chance to catch up with the lawyer who served as local counsel for my oral argument on behalf of Henry in March.  Third-hand hearsay suggests that we might be getting a ruling by the end of July.

Joline and Jessica arrive back in Kampala tonight, so it will be good to finally be with them for the first time in nearly two weeks.

The team took Monday to catch its collective breath after running at full throttle for the prior ten days.  The group that returned Sunday night from gorilla trekking on Saturday bubbled over when they described how cool the rare experience was of spending an hour hanging out with the mountain gorillas.  The eight in our group who trekked had been broken into two groups and tracked two gorillas packs, one of which caught more than a glimpse of energetic efforts to enlarge the herd.  Yikes.

While the rest of the Pepperdine team in Kampala (not including the students, as they returned to work for the judges on Monday) slept, exercised, and explored in the morning, I met with a couple judges about the status of our projects and about their thoughts on the newly rolled out Sentencing Guidelines.

We reconvened for lunch with five of my favorite Ugandans at an excellent Chinese restaurant.  Each of these five judges has worked closely with Pepperdine teams over the last few years, so it was fitting for us to thank and honor them, while at the same time introducing them to the team who came out on this trip.

After lunch we spent about an hour with Justice Mukasa, the head of the Criminal Division of the High Court.  As we were waiting for the meeting to begin outside his office, I was caught breaking the law, breaking the law.

We talked about the Sentencing Guidelines, plea bargaining, the upcoming juvenile session – July 15^th for 29 kids awaiting trial, and strategies for increasing the efficiency of the criminal justice system.  I was heartened to learn that one of the primary recommendations in my July 2012 report has come to fruition – a committee of internal stake-holders has been appointed to oversee the statutory implementation of plea bargaining in the adult realm.  The Principal Judge is chairing this blue ribbon committee.

Also during this meeting, Judge Doyle and Professor Chase continued their discussions from lunch about what role they might play in the future in Uganda, both in person and from abroad.

As we were getting ready for dinner, I decided to pull the car around.  My streak of accident-free driving came an abrupt end as a scraped another car as I backed out.  I asked the hotel guard to track the owner of the other car.  A few minutes later, he came out to inspect the damage.  After he surveyed the damage, he named his price and I paid it – 30,000 Uganda Shillings (about $12).

We dined with four of the Sixty Feet team.  Our dinner companions were Kelsey (lead intern who has been here for two years), Aaron (recently arrived intern who joined our team in Fort Portal and is now seriously considering attending Pepperdine this fall), Abby (legal intern with whom I worked last summer and who is working closely with David and me on all things J-FASTER), and Ambassador Edith Ssempala (former Ugandan Ambassador to the United States who serves on Sixty Feet’s Ugandan board).

I love introducing people I know and love to each other, and a good time was had by all.

Tuesday was leaving day for the Pepperdine team, so we had only one official meeting before I took them souvenir shopping.  We met the Principal Judge, who is the head of the High Court.  We had productive and promising discussions about the new Sentencing Guidelines, the Plea Bargaining committee he is chairing, and the new rollout of mediation (for the first time) in the Civil Division of the High Court.  They have had mediation in the Commercial Division for the past four years, since Pepperdine Nootbaar Fellow John Napier was the country’s first.

It was exciting to plan for new points of collaboration between Pepperdine and the Ugandan Judiciary.  Our relationship continues to expand and we are eager to continue to seek to be helpful to them.

Joline and Jessica are still on the road – they return to Kampala on Thursday evening, where we will all remain until the following Wednesday.

Tomorrow promises to be another interesting day as I join Sixty Feet for my first visit to the Rehabilitation Centre, which is where children who are convicted serve out the remaining time, if any, of their sentences.

As I have written about previously, I am definitely a hypergamist.  I married up.  Way up.  Today (Sunday, June 16^th), our 23^rd 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.

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.

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.

 

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

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.

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.”

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.

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 27^th, 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.