From Uganda

I enjoy Ernest Hemingway’s writing. Perhaps because a writing teacher once tried to dissuade me saying Hemingway writes terrible, depressing, unimaginative stories and that cemented my liking. That craggy-faced, rum-dependent author once said, “Write hard and clear about what hurts.” I do not know if he actually said that as I found it on Pinterest, hardly a credible source. Case in point, Pinterest once told me that Albus Dumbledore said “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”

I have not taken Ernest’s advice and written about moving to Uganda and life and my work in the past months. Writing is thinking on paper and from the time I learned I was moving to quite a while afterwards my thinking was anything but coherent. It was frustrated and sometimes angry, sad, tired and unpredictable.  Once my mind settled I felt guilty about my non-communication (not just on the blog either) and, in what is clearly a sign of maturity, avoided this commitment.

Here I sit, five months later, in a café sprinkled with other expats likely endeavoring to write their own blog posts. Let me quickly review:

At the end May the Field Office Director in Nairobi informed us that IJM had decided to “accelerate departure” of all expats due to increasing security concerns in Kenya. With the increased risks of terrorism and the general rise in violent crime in the city, IJM followed suit of many iNGOs and foreign governments in removing non-essential expatriate staff.

I was one of three interns to relocate to another African field office after five months in Kenya.  With a hard and fast 2-week deadline, I picked up and moved to Kampala, Uganda with little knowledge of the new country, culture and job.

That was hard and it did hurt. I still cannot describe everything I felt but the suddenness and utter lack of input or control in the decision knocked the wind out of me. I had really loved Kenya and my work, life and friendships there. At five months you have finally settled into the place and community. I would not have made that choice for myself and I still do not like it, however I understand IJM’s reasons and I know they had all our best interests at heart.

I arrived in the Pearl of Africa in mid-June. Unfortunately that transition did not occur as quickly or easily as I hoped. I felt sad and slept a lot the whole first month. Less sleep, still sad and often irritated the months after that. Now mix in embarrassment for not adapting well (something I pride myself on) and shame for not always wanting make an effort and the last five months have not been the easiest for me.

Before I left I had several conversations with my boss with him offering encouragement about how God was not surprised by this turn of events and intended to use them for teaching me and giving me new opportunities for growth. Of course I agreed, God is good and everything would be fine. So when I got here I kept waiting to be fine. I knew it would be hard at first but soon I would fit in to Ugandan culture, friends and my job as seamlessly as I had done in Kenya. Soon I would see the good things to learn through my new experiences.

Not so. God is still good, but I am not always fine.

Truth is I do not excel at my job! Often I feel frustrated and not infrequently incompetent. I have not synced with the office, do not have a church I regularly attend and still do not have a good handle on Ugandan culture. As far as adaptability and growing in new experiences I feel like I failed. At first, I gave myself grace because I was drained and could not put in the effort needed in my new home. However, as time passed I would repeatedly rally and try harder. Try harder to fit in, to excel, to thrive knowing that I had not done enough before. Feeling homesick, acerbic and disappointed I do not even like this version of myself a lot of the time. Spiritually I have felt weak, but after seeking God I felt abandoned, then guilty for feeling that way.

This is not what I had in mind. I know this is my own limited perspective and I will always be a self-critic, but it is what I can share. I still agree that God will use this, but no longer presume it will be straightforward and encouraging, at least not immediately. Let me share soon about the work of IJM Kampala and Uganda. There is so much good here in the life and the work, but I had to get the above out of my head and heart first.

I think one of the reasons I delayed writing was that I was waiting to feel victorious. To be able to tell a story of the goodness and growth I have found through change and difficulty. But that is not my reality at the moment, and maybe just keeping your head above the waves is the truer picture that will bring the coming joy into sharper contrast.  

Pictures, just a few

Giraffe, 6:30 am, Nairobi National Park

Elephant, David Sheldrick Animal Orphanage

Lion, Nairobi National Park

Zebra, Nairobi National Park (How cute are they!)

Going to Prison and Why I Love It

It is 10:00am on an overcast, muggy Nairobi morning. Faux-leopard print bedecks the couch I sit on in a small room located near the front entrance of Nairobi’s Industrial Area Remand Prison. Prison officers and Kenyan CSO* workers crowd the room and everyone looks very smart. Even I chose a suit today over the flip-flops and skirts which usually constitute my interpretation of business wear in Kenya. Comfortable silence rests on the meeting as we all take tea. Mandazi, sausage and samosa—one each—served alongside mugs brimful of sweet, milky chai. I love this about Kenya, the ubiquitous tea time and formality that accompanies as we silently partake. From workmen clustered under dusty, tarped street-side cafés to Parliamentarians, every Kenyan takes tea. Stir, sip, chew. We wait for the last person to finish before beginning our meeting.

Introductions circle the room as everyone recites greetings, their name and the organization for which they work. Aware of the one Mzungu in the room, the guests speak English. My turn: “Habari zenu. Ninaitwa Hannah Beckett. Nafanya kazi International Justice Mission.” I switch back to English having just exhausted a quarter my Swahili knowledge, though building rapport.  “Your English is conc,” Kenyans tell me. Short for concentrated, “conc” means I speak in a strong, fast-paced American accent.

Today the twenty-five stakeholders gathered at Remand represent various organizations providing social services in the prison (spiritual, medical, educational, legal aid etc.). The following two hours' discussion focuses on how to improve coordination between CSOs and the prison service in order to serve prisoners holistically. As IJM’s representative at this meeting, I get to talk about our work and how CSOs and the Kenyan Prison Service can better partner together. 

Snag a suit, say you work for an international NGO and there you have it... instant gravitas. No one knows I am just an intern, not to mention a waitress only six months ago. I love this about my work with IJM— an abundance of opportunities and constant supply of challenges.

The last three months have flown by and busyness characterizes my time here thus far. When I return home from work I just spent the last nine hours interacting, listening, talking, planning and problem-solving. Mentally exhausted, I consciously have to switch off my brain from continuing to think about work and relax, so I also postpone the blogging.

That said, it is nice to be back and I will try to make up for the paucity. Let’s start with work…

I love it.

I absolutely love my job. I do not even excel as an Executive Assistant (improving though, I hope), but enjoy most things about my role. I have an excellent boss who genuinely cares about the work, the staff and seeing change in Kenya. Because he serves as the Casework Director, I get exposure to all areas of our work and ongoing cases. Though rarely boring, my days can seem routine: taxi, coffee, greetings, stillness, devotions, work, lunch, work, coffee, walk, grocery, home//repeat.

I do not get to go to prison every day, sadly (strange statement, that), but I do enjoy a large variety of tasks. Roughly fifty-percent of my tasks pertain to the daily activities of scheduling, editing, meetings, organization and follow-up. The other fifty-percent, and the half I prefer, relates more to long-term projects like research, external partnerships and improving casework processes. I particularly appreciate the hands-on involvement I have and feel more confident to voice ideas, suggest improvements and propose projects than when I arrived. (Event planning stands as the one exception to my above statement. The soul-sucking, stress-inducing duty of office visit and event planning contravene every part of my personality.) However, without a doubt, the best part of my job is my interaction with fellow staff.  

Before arriving in Nairobi I looked forward to getting to know my coworkers and that experience has brought such joy. The dedicated, professional and fun team astounds me at how hard they work and what they accomplish, sometimes in difficult circumstances.

Our lawyers, for example, routinely endure Nairobi traffic and sit for hours in court, only to hear a judge cursorily dismiss them because he has not expended the necessary time to write the judgment needed for case resolution. Our investigators may spend weeks planning an arrest only to encounter a tip-off that spoils the entire operation. Despite this, the staff perseveres without despondency.

Since I arrived three months ago IJM has achieved convictions of two perpetrators of child sexual assault, seen the release of twenty-five innocently imprisoned Kenyans and celebrated the restoration of five of our clients. This represents only a small portion of the daily work done by the group of people I can now call my friends as we joke, laugh, lament, struggle, pray and achieve together. In future I will share more work experiences and successes, but in the meantime... did I mention I love my job?

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*Civil Society Organizations