WHICH WEB DO I SURF?

Yesterday, I got a phone call from my wife, Jana that required my immediate attention. One of our children had a minor medical issue arise and we needed to think through the implications. Next week, will be a school break; and a trip to Nairobi or Kampala to visit a doctor while shopping, seeing the movies, and taking in the night life sounds like a pleasant break. I hate to admit it, but the timing was impeccable. I wish my kids would always time their crises this well.

Jana quickly got on the phone to her Kenyan roots to see if any doctors she knew would be available. All that she called were out of town for the week. Thus it was my turn to surf my Uganda relationship network. Thank God for mobile phones and the cheap price of an SMS.

I knew the doctor I wanted to see, but it had been 5 years since we had seen him last. I’ve gone through 3 computers since then so his e-mail address is out of date and no longer in my address book. I don’t know how many times I’ve changed phones in 5 years so I don’t have his phone number either.

However, I still possess an African equivalent to a Gold Master Card. I have lots of friends. Surely, one of my friends could put me in touch with another old friend. Thus my relationship debt accountant went into 30 minute frenzy.

First, let’s try the neighborhood route. I scanned my phone addresses and found a Uganda friend who lived in the same neighborhood as my old doctor friend. I fired off an SMS asking if my doctor’s neighbor had my doctor’s contacts. I sat for a minute with no reply, and started to smell the aroma of Khana Kazana.

I can’t let this opportunity slip by me. If not a neighbor, maybe a professional acquaintance would know the number. I sent an SMS to another Uganda doctor friend, but again I received no quick reply. I started longing to listen to a Uganda radio debate, and knew I needed to try another route.

Maybe, I could find another consumer? I quickly found the contact of a Uganda friend with children. Maybe, she would have my doctor friend’s contacts. Off went my next SMS. A few minutes later my phone was still silent. I counted the grocery bill I’d save at Uchumi; and decided I need to try another route.

I hated myself for my next move, but I did it anyway. I sent a note to a friend who shared my doctor’s ethnicity and economic class. Surely, he’d know how to find my doctor friend. Again, my phone was silent; and I remembered the last time I had taken in a movie. It was time for a desperate measure.

My doctor friend had grown up in Dar Es Salaam during the 1970’s. I knew a couple others in Uganda who had spent the 70’s in Dar. Surely they’d know the contact. Off went my last attempt to find my doctor friend’s contacts.

Then the phone rang. My clever bride had discovered a new web of information called Google. She typed in our doctor friend’s name, hit enter, and within seconds had the contact. A few minutes later she was on the phone, and she called to inform me that the appointment was made while I was still waiting for my relationship web to produce. (However, 30 minutes later I had 3 replies with the information I required.)

Now I get why this ICT stuff makes so much sense. I’m a dinosaur relying on my complex web of relationships to keep me informed and solve my problems. If I fail to keep some piece of information surely there is a friend who has just what I need. I may replace my computer or phone when it gets old, but I’ll keep banking in social debt and making friends until I die.

Maybe, I need to get on board. Friends are more than just a network of personal problem solvers. The internet can replace them as my network of information. In fact, maybe both my friends and I would be better people if we relied a little less on each other for personal problem solving. I think this ICT stuff may have a point.

Yet, Google and its cousin Face Book will never do some key parts of life. They can’t share a meal, hold me while I grief, dance with me in celebration, and give me a discrete piece of advice. Nor can these ICT wonders tell me who should be my business partners. Discernment and good judgment are still best face to face.

Next week, I’ll be in Kampala making sure my daughter is well. I’ll trust an old doctor friend who has shown himself trustworthy. I won’t trade that for anything. However, I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll give my friends the space to be friends, and use them as my savings account a little less. Hopefully, we’ll all be better people in the end.

Come run with me.

Dave Jenkins

WHAT ABOUT VULNERABLE CHILDREN?

I've gone on a long journey for many years wrestling with what is our responsibility for vulnerable children. I've adopted 2 children, been an advocate for more adoptions, at one time sponsored 200 children to attend school, employed lots of people, facilitated many university scholarships, and started a school. I could make a nice CV about what I've done, but I find it has been short.

Though I've done what some may consider a great amount I emotionally avoid engagement. I don't go to orphanages and pretend I don't see street children. I've grown weary of unending problems and dependency. I'm weary of short sighted projects. I'm weary of expatriates who are unwilling to commit themselves, but put band aids on problems and snap photos to send back home as they request more money.

I've thrown my life in Rwanda into a vision of developing leadership that will be a source of transformation for generations. I'm convinced I can't be an advocate of the poor if I am not for the establishment of the middle class.

I tend to work with statistics to discern if my intuition is correct. I put some startling statistics together 2 months ago.

• 1 % of population has attended any type of Post-Secondary Education.
• 3% of Rwanda's population could be considered middle class (A/B audience) by Rwanda's media. (About 300,000 people or 50,000 households)

• 34 % of households are headed by widows.
• 13 % of households are headed by children.
• 26 % of the population under the age of 14 are orphans (Somewhere between 825,000 and 1,000,000 children).

Do you see the problem? I don't think it will be possible for Rwanda to become a middle income nation if we don't effectively deal with these vulnerable children. They will become an economic weight that will break all gains. Also, many are under the age of 15 and thus were born after 1994. Given the genocide was a major factor that created this dilemma, but we are now dealing with the second generation of this phenomena and a cyclical problem is developing.

Though some may consider me seasoned, I’m not an expert. However, let me offer three principles that may have some merit in addressing the issue of vulnerable children.

The first comes from the UN Geneva Convention. It is “Every child has a right to a family.” This seems to make perfect sense. In fact a popular African proverb states, “There are no orphans in Africa.” The extended family is to take care of all. None should fall through the cracks. However, children are falling through the cracks. I advocate adoption as a partial answer to the problem of vulnerable children in Rwanda. However, raising the issue of adoption raises certain questions. A few may even whisper, “Can a parent love his adopted children as much as his biological children?” Let me from experience say clearly, “No. Jana and I love our adopted children, Ruth and Timothy, much more than our three biological children.” (Please tolerate my humor, but I really am proud of my adopted kids.)

My second principle is programs can not undermine community institutions such as families, churches, and schools. It is far too easy to in a hurry set up a program that inadvertently undermines the community institutions that have the capacity to solve the problem. A few years ago, a colleague of mine said, “If you want to increase the number of orphans in a community start an orphanage.” Though we may chose that a new institution is required to solve this problem, we cannot in any way set in course a chain of events that undermine the fundamental institutions of community.

The last uncompromising principle is that this problem requires commitment for the full education of children and their incorporation as proactive members of society. We should do no projects that are not comprehensive in scope. Thus my solutions would be about the building of three basic institutions – families, schools, and businesses. Vulnerable children can not be isolated from community. Values are taught in families and we must creatively find ways for vulnerable children to become part of families. Schools provide the intellectual tools of knowledge and creativity. Vulnerable children must be in school and learn the tools of self-reliance instead of despair and dependency. Lastly, this issue will not be solved quickly. The creation of new businesses to generate wealth, jobs, and cycles of economic growth are fundamental. Donor dollars, emotional appeals, and short-term projects have failed. It’s time to find an answer within our community with our own resources.

Dave Jenkins