When we here at RELATIVITY Online first watched what has come to be known as the “eat da poo poo” video on Youtube, we broke down in tears from laughter. Even before anything is said, the anti-gay posters can be seen as the video clip begins. And then comes Pastor Ssempa. “My name is pastor Martin Ssempa and I am the chairman of the National task force against homosexuality in Uganda. I am here to see that homosexuality does not see life of legality in this part of Africa,” he says to get things rolling. What follows is so off the wall ridiculous, it’s hard to believe.

Pastor Sseempa, you see, is a supporter of the 2009 Uganda  anti-homosexuality bill. Submitted to parliament by MP David Bahati, the bill seeks the death penalty for those who engage in homosexual sex or for those who were HIV positive while in a relationship. At one point he calls out Obama, seemingly upset at the American president for condemning the bill.

Tragic, sad and humorous – watch and see for yourself. As a side note, be sure to check out the “Eat Da Poo-Poo” remix now on Youtube as well.  You may just about die from laughing so hard.

Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni and his wife Janet among supporters as he kickstarts his campaign for re-election back in October.

From Uganda Corespondent Arinaitwe Rugyendo…

Perhaps the biggest surprise so far about the 2011 presidential elections campaigns, is the ‘peacefulness’ in which the candidates and their supporters are conducting themselves.

We have not heard of beatings and related violent scenes to the levels that we have witnessed in the past three elections since Uganda returned to electoral democracy in 1996. The last three presidential elections have probably been the most violent ever in Uganda’s electoral history. In fact, a committee of parliament had to be constituted after the 2001 presidential elections to investigate and document all the electoral violence incidents that marred that election. No action has ever been taken on that report.

In 1996, the oppostion’s main candidate, Dr. Paul Ssemogerere, was stonned in Western Uganda even when it was clear that the main candidate in that election, Yoweri Museveni, was clearly in the lead. He won with a landslide.

In 2000, an army officer, Brig. Henry Tumukunde, took time to warn the Reform Agenda presidential candidate, Dr. Kiiza Besigye, that the guns ‘they’ had were more superior than his (Besigye’s) antics. This was ofcourse followed by very many cases of violence that at one point, an overzealous army officer drove through a crowd of Besigye’s supporters in Mukono, killing and miming some.

In 2006, some suspected overzealous agents of the state eighter were documented shooting at opposition crowds or outrightly and violently disrupting candidates and their supporters. So, what has changed this time? Why is the current campaign comparatively peaceful?

The last 25 years have produced one unique poltical situation in Uganda and this is the umblical sisterhood between President Yoweri Museveni and the ruling National Resistance Movement (NRM) Party. If Museveni were to leave the stage at this point, and seeing how the chaotic situation that has come about as a result of a horde of NRM independents, the NRM would probably go with him. But to keep it together, the ruling party, having achieved significant progress in such areas as security and the economy, must leave one legacy in place- a completely peaceful country from which it will need the incentive to survive another two decades in power without question.

In fact some sources tell your columnist that this election is being viewed in some quarters as Museveni’s best opportunity to set a stage for his legacy. He needs to win peacefully and clearly. He appears to be terribly working to leave a legacy as the only Ugandan president who united the nation and left it intact in much the same way as his mentor former Tanzanian president Julius Nyerere did for his nation. For a man who spent most of his youth fighting to transform a nation, leaving it in shambles is one serious dent he will not wish to leave behind for the history books.

In ensuring that violence is not orchestrated by the ruling party like how it was suspected of in the previous elections, the NRM is in a unique process of righting the wrongs. In fact sources close to the presidency have revealed that the president has secretly ordered the Electoral Commission to be very diligent and ensure that they do not do any stupid thing that will raise any questions. He has also, incredibly, told all the Army Generals to back off and desist from making any controversial statements. Once this is done, and with the very possibility of winning the polls, he will then start to purge all those who have been soiling the name of the government. Some of his lieutenants who have been implicated in high level corruption will be the first causalities. Those who went against his word and stood as independents, even if they win, will be the most losers as those who took heed will mostly be the ones he will deploy. In very many strange ways, the government of 2011 will resemble the broad-based government of 1986 with very many new faces from across the political, religious and ethnic divide taking centre stage. Therefore, running a very peaceful campaign is one way of writing the NRM legacy as a party that not only revived the economy and brought peace but also as one that did not leave a fractured society behind.

With this firmly in sight, the NRM could bring one good surprise package by reviving the presidential term limits before the next election in 2016 with Museveni passing on the baton to a younger generation of leaders to take the country forward. It happened in Botswana, which is, like Uganda, considered one of Africa’s success stories. A year to President Ketumile Masire’s last term in 1997, he surprised everyone including his own party and stepped down for Festus Mogae. The same situation happened when Mogae was one year to go, he left the seat for the Airforce General and Senior Bachelor, Ian Khama, the son of the first president, Sir Seretse Khama.

A violent election is usually a symptom of a desperate government’s efforts to retain power at all costs. The fact that this is not happening in the current election, the confidence of the NRM campaigners notwithstanding, seems to imply to me that the nation might be in for a big surprise from Museveni. If he does not do a ‘Ketumile Masire’ in 2016, then we might have to prepare for a real good surprise in which he might be righting his legacy and slowly following in the footsteps of his mentor, the former Tanzanian president Julius Nyerere.

Photograph by David Anthony Hohol

Ethiopia seems to most often bring to mind poverty and famine, but there is much more to one of only two countries in Africa never to be colonized. Ethiopia, an is a very old country beyond all imaginations, that carried with it deep cultural traditions, some as many as 300 years old. There are over 80 different Ethnic groups and with the strong religious environment, (predominantly Orthodox Christian) celebrations and festivals play a large role in daily life.

Taken outside a small rural village approximately 60 km outside the storied town of Lalibela, the above photograph captures several children at the conclusion of a church service in the middle of the Ethiopian country side. Several of the churches in the area are carved from the stone face sides of mountains and hills.

From Tanzania Corespondent Lute Wa Lutengano…

Late Monday afternoon I left office and was rushing to a downtown shop to fetch rims of my eye glasses. You see at my age I need the services of extra eyes to be able to see like a normal human being. My mobile contraption, that is my car, rattled along Seth Benjamin a.k.a. East Africa road towards the roundabout with mounted elephants near the DC’s office.

But I could not reach it.

The place was jam-packed with thousands of seemingly very angry Arushans. They had overtaken all the open space and the ‘desert garden’ between the roundabout and the Municipal Council offices and spilled onto the Boma road to the Clock Tower area.

Fearing for the unknown I made a sudden u-turn and drove back to office where I securely parked my un-insured contraption. Knowing that I can never abandon my routine of reading my papers in the evening I decided to make a second attempt to reach the opticians shop, but now using a taxi.

I hailed one just outside my office and boarded it. It was in worse shape than my contraption. But Juma, the cab driver, told me not to worry. Even when I pointed to him the huge and now hysterical masses in the area, Juma was unperturbed. He actually explained that, in case of unrest, the angry masses would go for the sleek and posh cars because they believe those belong to those who want to snatch from their jaws the victory of their Member of Parliament for Arusha.

Apparently Juma was also a supporter of the assembled group for he went on to loudly complain why it was taking more than 18 hours to compile and announce the winner for the Arusha seat. He wondered why it had taken only a few hours to do the same for the elections of Ward Counsellors.

He likened the impasse to a time bomb which may unleash bloodshed in the centre of Arusha if for one reason or another foul play was suspected to have been committed in the whole process by the authorise and thus denying their candidate’s victory. He was of the view that they may even physically attack their candidate and his family if he consents to having lost the elections. No surrender, he concluded gloomily.

I had nothing to add but mumble something to the effect that I was in total agreement with all his views.

To make matters worse I could not collect my spectacles from the optician as his shop like many others in downtown Arusha was closed. Apparently most of shops had not opened last Monday for fear of the unknown.

Driving back we had to again pass through the huge mass of people. My heart jumped a beat, pumped faster and I felt some butterflies fluttering in my stomach when I noticed some of those in the group had hidden machetes, long knives and clubs inside their garments.

It could feel the tension in the air. It seemed all of Arusha was about to go up in flames. I swore I will immediately sneak out with my contraption and using back roads rush back home and go straight to bed.

Juma parked his cab and told me in almost threatening words that I had to part with 7,000/- for the trip. In appreciation of the mood I could not haggle as is always the case. I was on the verge of fishing out the ‘msimbazi’ note when the car radio spluttered out some news flash; the Election Returning Officer for Arusha has just announced that Godbless Lema of Chadema has won the Arusha seat!

Suddenly Juma waved me off saying he did not need my cab fare and instead urged me to go and buy myself a beer and ‘nyama choma’ with it. Honking loudly he zoomed off. Somehow his ramshackle of a cab had also suddenly come to life.

From Tanzania Corespondent Lute Lutengano…

Necessity took me to Moronga and Imalilo villages, in Njombe district, up on the slopes of spectacular Kipengere Mountain Range, at about 3000 meters above sea level. The range also known as the Livingstone Mountains lies in southwest Tanzania at the northern end of Lake Nyasa.

From the town of Mbeya this range runs south-east and forms part of the eastern escarpment of the Great Rift Valley, extending about 100 km down the north-eastern shore of the lake to the Ruhuhu River. At the north-western end of the range they are known as the Poroto Mountains. And where they tower above the lake they are also known as the Kinga Mountains.

This time we drove from Njombe town along the Makete rough road for about 30 kilometers and reached Kipengere town, lying below the mountain ranges. Here we were instructed to proceed ahead for some five or so kilometers to reach Moronga. And sure enough we made it to this small village bordering Makete district.

We drove on to the Moronga primary school premises where we had a meeting with villagers. We were in time to see scores of villagers streaming into the school playgrounds from the surrounding homesteads. All around the school and the many homesteads were dense forests of well kept pine forests.

Actually all the valleys and mountain sides and tops were pine forested. There were a few open spaces where trees had been recently harvested and new seedlings planted. But these were now also teeming with healthy Irish potato plants and green peas.

At one end of the school were hundreds of ton-loads of timber while at the other end, under a huge tarpaulin roof, were thousands of bags of newly harvested potatoes. All these were awaiting collection for onward ferrying to the markets in Dar es Salaam, Arusha, Nairobi and Mombasa.

An elder of the village, one Mbilinyi, explained to me that every family had an average of about 10 acres of pine forest and five acres of potato and green peas. Truly I could tell by the physic of the children and the villagers that food here was no problem. Most of them were physically looking very fit and almost all were heavy set. They also wore heavy set clothes. The winter clothing of heavy coats and overcoats, balaclavas and woolen pants with heavy country boots would have been in order in places like the Scandinavian Alps. But here they were. The almost zero degree temperatures naturally necessitated this survival gear.

Actually, a few days earlier, I was told the mountain slopes and valleys had all been covered with white snow for most of the mornings. I wonder whether my compatriots from Bagamoyo or Kilwa and Pangani along the Indian Ocean coast, with their sweltering heat, can comprehend such a scenario.

At the meeting I commended the villagers for their hard work and health. But I wondered why their homes and other little luxuries of life including modes of transport were lacking in most ways. “It is the middlemen. The people who come and buy our timber and potatoes totally exploit us and pay very little for our produce”, explained Mbilinyi.

The only solution, we discussed later, was for the Morongans and neighbouring village communities in Imalilo, Kipengere, Igosi, Udzindile and Ulembwe to organise themselves and cut off the middlemen. They have to form cooperatives which would sell their produce directly to the local and international markets and secure loans to promote their forestry and agricultural industries. They could even secure loans to acquire packing and transportation facilities to the markets. This we agreed would totally transform their lives to lofty levels.

Later on, as I was negotiating around the village dirt roads in search of fresh ‘ulanzi’ – bamboo wine – a five year old boy came out rushing and greeted “Shikamoo Gari!” – that is ‘How are you car?’

We surely still have a long way to go before these kids will stop greeting cars and start aspiring to becoming car drivers and engineers. Don’t you think so?

From Uganda Corespondent Arinaitwe Rugyendo…

Recently,  I was invited by Makerere University Business School (MUBS) to speak to their completing students.

It is a requirement for MUBS’ mentorship programme to invite business practitioners from town to speak and inspire its business students.

The venue was House 4 where I found about 1000 students waiting and others listening-in from the outside through the windows.

I had been instructed to speak to them about the possibility of starting their own businesses after school and what it takes to create their own jobs.

Using my own experience at Red Pepper, I told them the long story of a newspaper we started with just less than One million shillings some nine years ago but has since grown strong.

The students were eager to listen to one of their own speak because they had been briefed that at the time we founded this newspaper in 2001, I was pretty the same age as most of them. The authorities therefore felt it was important for me to speak about how we did it as a way of inspiring their students who are leaving school in three weeks time with no possibility of immediate employment.

Drawing from both local and international examples, I concluded that the problem of unemployment in Uganda is not because the jobs are not available. It is largely a question of attitude and the failure on the part of our mentors and political leaders to focus the young people’s minds on looking for opportunities and identifying every problem as an opportunity for offering a business solution and therefore a chance at job creation.

I observed that it is for instance a question of attitude realignment if you have many graduate doctors crying for jobs. It should take a deliberate mentorship programme by patriotic political leaders to sensitize them on the fact that as doctors, they are ‘mobile clinics’ whose services patients are waiting to pay for from anywhere. This would be one way of creating their own jobs.

The story of vivid examples from which the students picked business ideas was very long and by close of the session, most of them had been converted to my gospel of entrepreneurship not because they didn’t have the ideas. It was because, like several unemployed young people elsewhere in Uganda, there is nobody to talk to them. There is virtually no one to show them the way which I did!

But the most intriguing part of the session was question time. Students asked a number of questions raging from how to start a business to start-up capital. The frustration on their faces told volumes of how the crisis of unemployment in Uganda has reached almost immeasurable proportions. The young people clearly lack people who should be showing them where opportunities for cheap credit are and which business ideas can make sense.

And no wonder then that current statistics show that for about 390,000 students who finish tertiary education each year, there are only about 8,000 jobs to them to fight for.

During my address, a friend, Mr. Kakembo, who works in the Tax Investigations department at Uganda Revenue Authority, told students of a harrowing experience at the tax body where for every job advertised requiring about four people to fill, there are nearly 2,500 applications to it. The situation has even gotten worse to the extent that across the city, employers are bombarded with job requests from young people requesting to be allowed to ‘just do anything.’ They no longer value their qualifications.

Uganda is certainly sitting on a time bomb because unemployment is no longer an individual case problem. It is a massively public issue because the structure of opportunities has collapsed and the politicians do not seem to have a clue.

Instead, they go on sloganeering, telling the hapless students to go and create jobs. They never tell them anything significant about how to raise start up capital. The cheeky ones blame the degree programmes offered in some universities which they say have little relevance to the employment situation in the country, yet, the very system they serve runs a National Council for Higher Education which is charged with licensing universities and their programmes whose relevance surely cannot be blamed on the graduates.

Apart from the patriotism seminars, civic education programmes and the political education courses at Kyankwanzi and other areas, there are no job creation think tanks in the country and the Ministry of Labor and Social Affairs has never gathered job seekers anywhere in Uganda and showed them where opportunities for investment and start-up capital acquisition are located.

Instead, the unemployed young people are being asked to go, register and vote, which is why I am not surprised that the Electoral Commission has complained of a frustratingly low turn up at the various voter verification centres across the country.

What then can be the possible way forward?

I strongly feel that all political parties competing for power in the next election should, as a first step, focus on removing obstacles to job creation and accessibility.

Reducing the retirement age at the moment is something that would send well accomplished Ugandans into self employment, giving way to a size able number of jobs in the public sector to the young people.

A person who retires at the age 50 now, will utilize his gratuity more responsibly than a young graduate who is given money to start up a shop. In other words, a retiree has more meaningful start-up capital in the form of his hard-earned gratuity than a fresh graduate.

This is where any political party that wants my vote, can instantly create about 50,000 jobs every year as it goes about scratching for more robust solutions.

From Tanzanian Correspondent Lute Wa Lutengano…

Sometimes in the early 80s I found myself in the city of Berlin, East Berlin, to be more precise. I was there attending a College, training us third world young men and women on how to become professional scribes.

The college famously known as the International Institute of Journalism, Berlin, that time brought youths from Tanzania, Nigeria, Kenya, Zambia, SWAPO (Namibia), ANC (South Africa) and ZANU-PF (Zimbabwe or Rhodesia). We were about 50 or so students in that specialized college.

Before proceeding to Berlin of the then Deutche Democratiche Republic (DDR), my family back in Njombe district had insisted that I use my presence in Europe to look for my cousin brother, a Gynecologist who had studied in Hungary, graduated, got married, begot two beautiful ladies and was now head of Gynecology at one hospital in Debrecen, near Budapest.

On reaching DDR I sent a letter to Debrecen, without proper address but believing that an African, and a very black Gynecologist at that, in any Eastern European town would be well known. After that I forgot about the whole issue.

Six months later, and at 6:30 in the morning one Saturday, I received a call from the College reception desk informing me that I had a visitor who claimed to be my brother. “Wrong number!” I responded. Several calls later, I wobbled my way down the stairs to the reception desk. My heart skipped a beat. There standing in front of me was my very own cousin brother whom I had, by then, not met for more than 15 years. He had received the letter.

He was tagging along two huge briefcases, which I later came to pleasantly learn they were full of vintage wines – gifts from grateful parents of newly born babies at his hospital. Actually I was later to know that my brother was, apart from his medical duties, successfully running a Wine Bar in Debrecen, courtesy of his profession.

Back to my room I introduced him to my roommate, who also happened to be a Tanzanian. To my utter confusion, the two greeted each other in my mother tongue. What the hell is all that? I wondered.

It was only after some lengthy explanation that I and my roommate came to learn that not only were we both Tanzanians but we were actually also from the same tribe – Bena. For six months of our being roommates our tribal origins had never been an issue. It took my brother who had attended the same school with my roommate to bring this fact to light.

This was a shocker to our college-mates. It was as if they had been struck by a bolt from the blue when they learnt of this fact during a cocktail in honor of my brother. “Nyerere would have loved this scenario,” I told my perplexed friends.

Nyerere had put in place deliberate policies to unify Tanzanians of all races, religions and tribes into one nation state. That is why, for example, my father is Bena, my mother is Sangu, and I have children from ladies from other tribes. Can you seriously tell me what my and my children’s tribes are? No! We are all Tanzanians.

And learning from what is taking place in Kenya, we should promote and consolidate this arrangement. To prove to you that I am a true believer of this philosophy I am happy to reveal that I am yet, in my very whole life, to enjoy the privilege of having a girlfriend – in matters of love – from my very own tribe, Bena.

From Tanzania Corespondent Lute Wa Lutengano…

I have failed not to write something about football. After all, all talk now is about the ‘beautiful game’ taking place in ‘Ku-Joni’ as my tribal ancestors used to call what is now the land of Madiba a.k.a. Mandela – South Africa.

You see where I come from in Benaland, now in the newly established region of Njoluma – I hope this silly name will change soon – all young men of those yesteryears in the 30s, 40s, 50s, and even the early 60s, used to be taken to South Africa.

They were taken there to provide cheap labour in the famous Kimberley Gold mines of that land of then apartheid. Actually this means my ancestral land was part of what the mining conglomerates in South Africa used to consider ‘reserve labour region.’

In no time this going to the mines became fashionable. For after two or so years these young men would come home with a new bicycle, a suit, an iron trunk and the mining torch perched on ones forehead with its batteries hung on the back.

You can imagine their impact in the Bena villages, and I believe the same was the case in all villages in the other neighbouring tribes. It must have been cool. A young man donning an old woollen suit, pushing a bicycle with a torch on his forehead leading a group of elderly villagers at night from one drinking hole to the next was quite a sight. He was naturally a superstar. And all parents wanted their daughters to wed this young man.

And so the legend of the ‘ku-joni’ was built around these famous young men who when their spirits were blown high by the local ‘ulanzi’ bamboo wine or traditional beer – ‘common’ or ‘kangala’ – would also do a strange jig called jive or crooning. Later on I was to learn that ‘ku-joni’ simply meant ‘ku-johannesburg’.

I believe many village belles of those years when our land was under the Germans and later the British do recall these ‘ku-joni’ young men. Naturally these former belles are now great grandmothers, if at all they are still alive.

This also explains why in the early 60s and early 70s most young men and women in primary and secondary schools in the southern highlands region – Iringa, Mbeya and Songea – organised themselves into jiving and crooning groups singing basically Zulu and Xhosa songs popularised by the ‘ku-joni’ boys.

These groups became so popular until someone in the Ministry of Education got wiser or rather envious and banned them. I for one, for example, was a member of the popular Skylarks Group at the then Mkwawa High School. We used to mesmerize the Iringa Girls belles and once we even managed to convince the school management to ferry us all the way to Mbeya, some 300 kilometres away, to render a similar service to the famous Loleza Girls members.

One thing, however, which I am told by the elders, is that these ‘ku-joni’ boys were not into the many sports which were mushrooming in the colonial territories then. These sports included football.

The ‘ku-joni’ boys were rather more into booze, music and dancing and ofcourse into ladies as well. No wonder therefore, much as the World Cup is taking place in Africa, and we had six African teams for that matter, the African presence has simply wilted. I am beginning to wonder whether it is not the ‘ku-joni’ syndrome revisiting us.

From Tanzania Corespondent Lute Wa Lutengano…

I was last in Kipengere, a sleepy village below the imposing Kipengere Mountain peak on the eastern end of the famous Mount Livingstone ranges, in the mid 60s. The village which is roughly mid-way from Njombe town to Tandala in Ukingaland, Makete used to be an important stopping stage for our rough ride from the town to our boarding school in Tandala.

It was an important stage because of the nature of road particularly during the rainy season. The rough road from Njombe usually became worse from Kipengere onwards. It was therefore important to send some scouts in advance to check on whether the muddy and slippery road had dried a bit before attempting to drive the 40 or so kilometers to Tandala through the notorious Mang’oto escarpment. Sometimes our waiting would go for days or even weeks. 

I had not gone back to Kipengere since those schooling days. It was therefore with added curiosity that I found myself driving on that same road to Kipengere last week. It was a nostalgic short visit. Many changes had taken place. The road was in a better condition and I was told the notorious Mang’oto section was being tarmaced. Actually this would be done to the whole road to Makete.

I arrived at Kipengere mid-morning and realized it was the same old sleepy village but now surrounded by large farms of wheat and maize. There was however piped water and more traffic along the road with some sleek saloon and four wheel vehicles zooming past the village.

But all life seemed to lead to the Kipengere Roman Catholic Parish mission centre. This is where there are schools, orphanages, medical and agricultural support services and naturally an imposing church. No wonder I had no choice other than turning towards to the straight, narrow and tree lined road to the mission centre. It actually reminded me of sleepy Florence, somewhere in that land of Berlusconi – Italy.

At the Centre I was interested in meeting the only person whose name is synonymous with Kipengere, if not the whole of Njombe development activities – Father Camillo Calliari. He was out on the mountain working on a water supply project he is planning for several villages, some more than 50 kilometers away.

But as luck would have it, as I drove out of the mission gate, Father Camillo arrived. The Romanian born 71 year old Italian father with graceful receding grey hair and generous beard was surprisingly sprightly fit. He is a missionary priest, like so many others doing good in this part of Tanzania. Ordained in 1965 he left for Tanzania in September 1969. Unlike other missionary priests Baba Camillo likes to do his work his way. For those who know him, he is not only a priest but also a farmer, mechanic, manufacturer and charity and development worker.

Since 1996, for example, Father Camillo has built 14 concrete water reservoirs and 250 piped water outlets in 15 villages in and around Kipengere reaching 35,000 residents. He also has 6 prefabricated ovens for bread supplied to villagers. More than 200,000 books, thousands of pens, erasers, crayons, chalks and the like have also been distributed to schools in the area.

Father Camillo, whose mission has its own hydro-electric supply system is now busy trying to expand the supply to surrounding villages by constructing a big dam, piling stringing wires, constructing four cabins for processing and turbine housing. Apart from running medical facilities the mission also has an orphanage for hundreds of children from the area whose parents either died of AIDS or other natural causes.

As an agricultural expert he runs large crop and dairy farms with his artificial zebu heifers now producing up to 25 liters of milk per day per cow. His expertise in these fields is now benefiting thousands of villagers in and around Kipengere. To cap it all, his mission is now ready for the mineral water project after successfully testing hundreds of water from the natural springs flowing down the Kipengere mountain peak.

Eight thousand kilometers from Italy, Father Camillo is not only changing the spiritual lives of thousands of Njombeans but also providing each of them with clean drinking water, medical facilities, a light bulb, a glass of milk and wheat bread on the table. Not only is he the Baba of 13,000 baptized Kipengerians but he also a true manifestation of Giorgio Torelli’s recitation “The Gospel of Toil.”

“The end of any mass,” says Father Camillo,” is the dawn when you remove the white garment worn and dive into greasy overalls and devote efforts to the most desperate. I worry though whether there will more to follow this line of duty after I pass on.”

Photograph by David Anthony Hohol

For most, the country of Rwanda brings to mind the 1994 genocide that killed nearly a million people in little more than 3 three months – more than 20% of the country’s population. Despite this massive humanitarian tragedy, Rwanda has done very well in rebuilding itself. In 2009, a CNN report referred to Rwanda as Africa’s biggest success story, having achieved stability and economic growth. The government is seen by the international community as the most efficient and honest on the African continent, with the capital city of Kigali often cited as the cleanest and most secure.

Nevertheless, the country has few natural resources and an estimated 90% of the working population farms. The photo above was taken on a farming homestead just over the Uganda / Rwanda border near the town of Mvamba. No power and no running  water is the norm and life means hard work from an early age.  In the photograph, the pregnant mother is caught in moment of contemplation as her young daughter looks straight through the camera lens.