Sammy…
Officially I met Sammy in May. In reality, my first real meeting with Sammy was last month when I went to parent-teacher interviews at Old Kampala Secondary. Abbey asked if I would take his place at the interviews, representing the children’s guardian in order to obtain their second term marks and hear the teachers’ comments. Six boys attend Old Kampala Secondary; Hamuza, Simon, Kenneth, Ismah, Moses, and Sammy. The day of the interviews I found myself
a white spectacle amoung a group made up entirely of Ugandan staff and parents. The boys seemed to not mind the attention. I sat through a two hour assembly, half in English, half in Luganda, about the school’s new electronic funds transfer system for tuition payment, then was released to visit the teachers. After shamelessly using my “Muzungu” appeal to skip ahead of lines in each of the six classrooms I was able to obtain each boy’s marks. Sammy’s stood out above the rest. Out of 80 students, he placed 11th in his class. A very respectable position for a fifteen-year-old who shares a room with fourteen other teenage boys, who has been abandoned by everyone he’s ever known, who’s been attacked and beaten, who’s only solace in life is the African Hearts organization.
Impressed by Sammy’s performance and interested to learn more about these boys I was only starting to become familiar with, I took them all out for lunch at Rangers, a small restaurant across the street from Mengo Hospital. Over chips and chaps (thick greasy fries and meat flapjacks) we discussed the boys’ school, their teachers, the subjects they struggle with (Chemistry, Physics, Math), and their desire to receive tutoring and improve their performances. Although most had received decent marks, they were all scared to show Abbey their reports. His high expectations are determined goals for these boys. I couldn’t help comparing their resolve to Canadian teenagers. Using my brother and his friends as an example, I don’t believe I would ever find myself discussing education with them, never mind brain-storming ways to improve a grade of 70% in calculus. I don’t think I would be far off if I were to estimate my brother’s priorities as girls, money, and partying. I apologize to my brother for dragging him in as an example, but I doubt he’d hesitate to agree with my observation. As I chatted with Sammy and his friends, I concluded that their priorities included successfully completing Senior-level, finding a way to keep a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, not only for them, but for their families as well, and finding a simple happiness for themselves and those around them.
In the days that followed I made a special effort to stay close to these boys. Sammy is the only one of the six that stays at the African Hearts home and was therefore easier to spend time with. I quickly realized his grades were no fluke. Naturally bright, Sammy has a way of observing any situation with an all-encompassing sweep, meticulously noting each detail, choosing carefully which to comment on, and comment he will. I came to fondly refer to him as Mr.Open. Find yourself in a sticky situation where you subtly attempt to remove your foot from your mouth and Sammy will kindly narrate your plight of embarrassment, and any excruciating details necessary for full comprehension of the situation, to all in attendance. For Sammy, honestly is the only policy. I find it refreshing. He has a way of staring straight at your eyes in a matter-of-fact way, no tricks, no masquerading, just straight-up take-it-as-it-is bluntness. He has coolness and confidence. Calmness you wish for in a crisis.
It was my pleasure to invite Sammy (along with Joel, Robert, and Kimala) to the premier showing of Transformers. The film was a huge hit with all four boys. Only Robert had been to the theatre before, when we went to the opening of the latest Harry Potter, and it appeared to be an entertaining adventure for all. While the other boys stared wide-eyed, eyes transfixed on the giant screen even as they punched each other in excitement, Sammy continuously leaned over to whisper questions in my ear. What type of airplanes was the U.S. military using, he wondered. Was the president depicted in the movie supposed to represent the current administrations’ leader? Was hacking for the government a feasible career option, as was shown in the movie? I asked each boy what they thought of the show as we made our way home in a special hire; Sammy’s response was that he found it surprisingly political for a movie geared towards young teenagers. I had picked up on the underlying themes of empire and war-mongering, the subtle jabs at the Bush administration, and the unsurprising failure to move away from amplifying and exalting the might of the U.S. military. Sammy had apparently noted these things as well.
Last week Sammy mentioned his appreciation for my invitation to the film, and the good time we’d had browsing around Garden City, the shopping centre that houses the cinema. As it happened, I was planning on going back to pick up some “western” groceries at Garden City’s predominantly Muzungu supermarket and invited Sammy along. We shared a boda for the fifteen minute ride across town and arrived just in time for lunch. We went to a new café called I Love NY, which prides itself on having the only bagels in the country. I ordered Sammy his first-ever bagel with cream cheese, with a fat pickle on the side. Half-way through his doughy snack, Sammy leaned forward, elbows on knees, and told me about his past. I later asked Sammy to write down his personal history. Here, in his own words, is Sammy’s story:
“We were a family of three children, one brother and two sisters. We used to stay with our father and mum but certain problems came on. Our dad had many wives. We struggled because our dad went and so we had to look forward for a solution.
After a time life started to be so hard that we could only eat one meal a day without breakfast and supper. My mum tried to get a job to build up the family but there wasn’t a solution for this. The only way was to go and look for our dad. She found him and she made him to back in the family.
After dad came back home life was not easy for me or even enjoyable because I was not loved much like my sisters. Our dad didn’t have enough money. The solution they had was to take me to my step-mother’s. I was young and didn’t understand why. I asked my dad but he told me excuses. So I was taken to my step-mum.
Life became hard on my side because I missed my sisters. So, I lived with this woman and in my mind I hoped that she would help me and things would get better. Because she had no children she used to be violent to me and make me annoyed and make me hate her. She knew that I didn’t love her and used all her powers over me. She used to tell me that I should wash all her clothes and do all the domestic work. I did it because I didn’t want to disobey her and I was gaining knowledge from her. But when I used to do this domestic work she made me do other work too. I worked up to sunset when I was so tired. I tried my level best to tell her that I can’t do all the heavy work. She banged my head on the wall and she got a stick when it had nails on it and she beat me. I thought of running away from her. She even used to lock me in the house and she could go away whenever she wanted when I was still locked in the house.
I faced all these hard times and had a miserable life with this woman. She didn’t give peace or time to rest. She abused me and she didn’t give proper care. I spent much time with this woman and even I was not studying. I used to get bad fevers but she didn’t care. She just gave me herbs as medicine. I used to cry when I thought about the bad times I involved in.
But one day this woman went to her friend to visit and she left me in the house. All of that day my intension was to escape because that was the best alternative I had in my mind. By the time it was noon I finished all I had to do and prepared for my escape.
On my journey going with all my stuff I didn’t think she would find out. I kept on going but I didn’t know someone told her that I was going. She came and caught me. She took me back home. She asked me who gave the permission for me to walk away from home. She started to beat me and didn’t give time for me to talk or explain. I called for help but there were no people around. I fainted because this woman beat me seriously.
When I came back to my normal mind I tried so hard to go back to my mum. The best thing was that I found the phone number of my dad. I called and asked my dad if I could talk to mum. I talked to her and I told her the whole story and the situation I was passing through. I tried to convince her that I was not in good way and didn’t have care and love that I suppose to have. I requested for her to come and take me back home.
After three days I was in this woman’s house washing utensils. I heard someone knocking on the door and when I went to open I realized that it was mum. I was so happy that I felt like I was being removed from prison. They talked a little bit and she asked for me and we went back home.
After reaching home my mum realized that one of my senses was not working. My ear of the right side. I was taken to the doctor for a medical check-up. After this check-up the doctor told my mom that the ear of the right side was not working. I got some tablets for it. I was like a vulnerable child.
I was studying from other people’s school books, eating, and just hanging around. One day I asked dad if I could go to school. He told me that there was no money for my studies and requirements. My life was miserable when I saw other children and my sisters going to school. Not only miserable, but my life was sad.
After a couple of days my father left the house to go outside the country. My mum packed all things which were in the house and removed them. There came a small car and a man came out and greeted us. He asked my name, and my sisters’. I didn’t know what was going on because I asked mum and she told me to sit in the car. They packed all the things in the car and we took off.
Days after we were in the flat house which was beautiful and nice looking. But I was confused to see mum with the man. Life started to be enjoyable and easy. We started in a happy life and a good world. This man loved us since we were the only children in the house. He used to bring us every thing we wanted at that moment.
But after a couple of months there came businessmen who wanted to buy this flat. I realized my mum’s new man was the dealer of this house. So the house was sold and this man got a share of the profit. We moved from this house and migrated from that place and got a house for rent with this man.
But time came when we needed to look for sources where we can get money. So mum brought idea that they should start a shop. This shop was started slowly by slowly and it grew up after a period. My mum, my sisters, and I used to work in this shop and we were like slaves.
After all of these miserable times our mom was pregnant. When she was near to give birth she was given good care by the man and she was taken to the hospital. We were left in the shop to work. So mum gave birth to a baby boy. But the most annoying thing was that the man loved my sisters and the baby, and I was left out. He used to torture me over everything I did, when it was good or bad.
One day I went to watch football, the premier league, but I didn’t take long to go back home. When I went back home my step-dad saw me and he kept quiet. After entering the house he came and he asked me where I was. I tried to explain but he didn’t let me talk. He got a metal bar, like a hammer, and he beat on the head and I fainted. He took me to the near-by clinic and they asked him what happened. He told them that an iron sheet cut me when I was playing. I took long time to come to my normal senses. When my mum came home she found my sisters cleaning the floor which was full of my blood. She asked my sisters what happened. They told her that dad had beat me. She came in the clinic and she asked why he beat me, and why he used a hammer. My face was destroyed. I have got the scars on my face still.
After all of this I was hopeless. I thought that man would even kill me one day. He didn’t give me food when my mum was not around and he told me that if I tried to tell mum he would kill me. I feared him so I did everything he told me to do. I thought of a plan, that I could escape from home, but mum didn’t want me to go.
One day I asked a friend of mine whom I used to play with if he could help me. He told me he could. He brought me to his place where there was a band group. It was called African Hearts Community Organization. It was a youth group. I went to the leader who was called Abbey I first asked him that if I could join them and be part of them. I was given the form to register and filled it myself because I knew that if I took it home this man would not allow me.
When I used to go to fetch water I used that time for band practice then I would rush home because I didn’t want the man to know. But one day when I was fetching water he came behind me and didn’t know he was behind me. I quickly went for practice and then when he saw me he went back home. After practicing I went back home. When he saw me he told not stay home anymore. I begged him to let me in but he told me to go stay where I was practicing. So, that night I slept in bathroom outside the house.
In the morning without doing anything else I went to the African Hearts house and got the leader Abbey was not around. I waited for him and when he came I told him that whole story. We went to see mum, they talked, and after that I went with Abbey and stayed the base of the brigade. I started to learn all the activities which were done at the brigade. I starting enjoying my life since I got a new home. The money they gave from the function I used to buy clothes.
After a long time I was able to play trumpet at functions. This brigade used to collect money from functions to buy instruments. I used to go and visit mum and my sisters to see how they are.
I passed in this situation knowing that I would get somewhere I would enjoy to stay. When my mum is sick and can not work I am the one responsible for my sisters. My sisters work hard at school and they have the ability to do anything.
Abbey encouraged me and advised me when I was lonely and so I gained hope. I am saying that everything done on earth is done by hope. If you don’t have hope you can’t manage on this earth.”
***
As Sammy told me this story in the restaurant, I was curious as to how it felt to move away from
home, to become part of African Hearts. He replied that he felt like a new-born baby. He explained that in the womb a baby is given the necessities to survive but it isn’t until they see the light of the world that they begin to receive real love and care. He said for the first time in his life he discovered what it was like to be loved and cared for. A satisfied smile grew on his face after he arrived that hasn’t left since. He has forgiven his step-father for his transgressions, something a lesser person could not have done.
Sammy told me all he could that day. When he finished his story he put his head in his hands and breathed deeply. I placed a hand on his back and let him release the memories. Then I thanked whomever it was I had to thank for taking Sammy away from that man and into the care of Abbey and the African Hearts home. I vowed to help Sammy in any way I could and see to it that he feels loved and gets the opportunity to permanently change his life by succeeding in school and putting to use his unique talents.
Thus far, I have been able to purchase several large study guides for 16,000Ush each ($9), which have enabled Sammy to better prepare for his end-of-term exams. Sammy is currently in Senior 1 (Grade 8) and the next five years will be crucial in determining the direction of his future. I also got my parents to send him a memory stick (USB flashcard) from Canada in order that he can save any computer documents or other important information any time he is able to gain access to a computer. I’ve never seen a teenager so eternally grateful for such small gifts. He asked if he could send my parents a thank-letter and we did one better, we took a video of him and sent the DVD in the mail.
I have been formulating a journal entry about Sammy for some time now but became highly motivated at the beginning of this week when Sammy came to me with a rare request. Many of the boys come to me with various problems regarding their homework, relations with friends, a need for school shoes or writing utensils, or family problems, but Sammy has always kept quiet about these things. Actually, one of the only times he opened up about his past was during our bagel lunch. Thus, I was surprised when he pulled me aside on Monday and said that he needed my help. He explained that he was concerned about his siblings still left at his mother’s house. His two sisters and two half-brothers were all still struggling in the same living situation, struggling to get food, struggling to get school fees. His half-brothers, Isaac and Jonah, are also members of African Hearts and are young enough that their parents can still afford to pay their Primary school fees. His sisters are moving from Primary to Secondary after next term and Sammy fears there will not be enough to cover their tuition. Sammy said he was anxious about this because his sisters are extremely intelligent and the best hope they have of climbing out of poverty is through education. As the older brother Sammy feels responsible for them. He worries about their treatment at home, and about how long his mother will be around to protect them. He did not ask me for money, instead requesting only that I help him brainstorm a solution, something he can do in order to take care of his siblings.
Sammy’s sisters, Rhonda and Carol, also wrote to me about their lives, their stories filled with
tragic and touching stories mirroring that of their brother’s. They spoke of searching the local Market trash bins for dinner, of being thrown out of school for lack of tuition payments, of washing people’s clothes in order to make some money. They spoke of their poor living situation, of the poor sanitation and the medical repercussions. They wished their mother had enough money to buy herself a new pair of shoes. They wondered how their mother would cope now that she was once again alone, having kicked out their step-dad.
Words cannot express what it is like to live here and befriend these people and then listen to their stories. I go through a myriad of emotions; sadness, anger, disbelief. I feel my throat closing, I feel like my hands are tied. I am tortured knowing the money in my wallet could change their lives. I am agonized knowing if I gave them that money it would help them for a few weeks, but true change needs months and months of thorough planning, arranging, and implementing. True change needs commitment, dedication, and time. Time to spend with the family, getting to know their needs, their desires, their dreams. Getting to know their talents and abilities and utilizing them in productive and sustainable manner. Simply giving money makes people dependent and puts them in the passenger seat of their own lives. The real solution lies in helping people discover their own worth and assisting them in building that up into means of supporting themselves. As Sammy says, give people a little help and a little hope and you’d be surprised what they can accomplish.
~Nicole
