Midnight Letter
February 2007
It is near midnight here in Uganda and the power is now working, so I am writing to update you on our progress. We came to this village expecting to document the stories of six "kukus," or grandmothers, who have lost their beloved adult children to AIDS and are now devoted to raising their grandchildren. At this point, we have interviewed and photographed 19 grandmothers, but were forced to turn two others away because we feared that we couldn't support them.
These courageous women arrived at dawn to meet us, surrounded by their orphaned grandchildren. Most had walked for miles under the hot African sun wearing their one good dress. They all need food and medicine. It has been very rainy lately, which is not good. People sleep on the damp floor getting coughs, which spread to everyone in the household. One kuku says her roof leaks too much, and another uses her dress as a blanket to cover the whole family at night. We had them see the doctor, who found one child with TB.
The recent rains also mean that it's harder to plant, forecasting a poor harvest. Each one plants food in her little plot of dirt, and two are permanently bent over from digging. Each story is heartbreaking.
These remarkable women have lost so many adult children. One kuku lost two daughters in one day - four children all together. Another is being driven out of her home, because her neighbors are afraid of AIDS. These grandmothers are shouldering a tremendous burden here. Instead of being cared for in their old age, they are raising their children's children with no resources. Poverty, disease and death are what these people live with every day.
It is very clear, my friends, that we are in a position to make a difference. Every child here deserves food, health, affection and hope for the future. We have not promised them anything, but Ron and I have pledged to carry their stories home to our friends.
Jackie
February 2007
It is near midnight here in Uganda and the power is now working, so I am writing to update you on our progress. We came to this village expecting to document the stories of six "kukus," or grandmothers, who have lost their beloved adult children to AIDS and are now devoted to raising their grandchildren. At this point, we have interviewed and photographed 19 grandmothers, but were forced to turn two others away because we feared that we couldn't support them.
These courageous women arrived at dawn to meet us, surrounded by their orphaned grandchildren. Most had walked for miles under the hot African sun wearing their one good dress. They all need food and medicine. It has been very rainy lately, which is not good. People sleep on the damp floor getting coughs, which spread to everyone in the household. One kuku says her roof leaks too much, and another uses her dress as a blanket to cover the whole family at night. We had them see the doctor, who found one child with TB.
The recent rains also mean that it's harder to plant, forecasting a poor harvest. Each one plants food in her little plot of dirt, and two are permanently bent over from digging. Each story is heartbreaking.
These remarkable women have lost so many adult children. One kuku lost two daughters in one day - four children all together. Another is being driven out of her home, because her neighbors are afraid of AIDS. These grandmothers are shouldering a tremendous burden here. Instead of being cared for in their old age, they are raising their children's children with no resources. Poverty, disease and death are what these people live with every day.
It is very clear, my friends, that we are in a position to make a difference. Every child here deserves food, health, affection and hope for the future. We have not promised them anything, but Ron and I have pledged to carry their stories home to our friends.
Jackie