Peace but no prosperity

It is 8:00am at Pabbo Gulu in Northern Uganda.

The sun is rising across a spectacular topology and, for miles along the dusty road, one can see damp black soil begging for seeds to grow on it. But the only vegetation in sight is natural savannah grass.

A few miles into the area is Pabbo trading centre, makeshift structures and a few semi-permanent stores.

In the alleys, men shuffle cards for another game, while others are engrossed in omweso, a traditional table sport.

Children in torn clothes scamper out of a shop with items like cooking oil, matches and sugar.

One girl, about eight years old, runs into a hut with matches, where a woman is washing utensils.

Near her is a kettle blackened by smoke and a baby in a metal basin waiting for a bath.

I drive through the trading centre slowly, but am back to the spectacular view of plains and fertile black soil.

Any farmer would love to plant in these lands. But people here spend most of the day drinking, playing and waiting for handouts from humanitarian agencies.

Northern Uganda is now in a transitional stage — after an emergency state where a 20-year conflict stopped people from working.

People are now expected to cater for themselves.

Humanitarian organisations are phasing out their operations, while development agencies are preparing to move in.

At the district headquarters in Gulu, I was told that local authorities in 2007 declined to take over a water source installed by the International Committee of the Red Cross because they could not guarantee supply of 120 litres of fuel every two weeks to run the generators that power the water pumps.

At a health centre in Lugore sub county, the staff is sceptical of continued service because some medicines that the government is supposed to procure take up to a year to arrive.

Mainly, the centre treats ailments whose drugs are available, and supplied by the Red Cross.

Almost everywhere, I see people afraid of taking charge, and a system unable to support them.

Ynske Vandormael, a Belgian who heads ICRC operations at Gulu, says many people are still dependent on handouts.

Before her deployment to Uganda, she worked in Gaza, the 45-km strip between Egypt and Israel that has suffered unending brutality and destruction in the ongoing conflict between Israelis and Palestinians.

Rebuilding Gaza is daunting because of the scale of the destruction.

But Vandormael is optimistic that the strip will be back on its feet soon.

She says, “Despite the level of destruction there, the people have a positive attitude. They want to rebuild their nation.” That, she implies, is the spirit needed in Gulu.

Experts say a transitional phase — like the one northern Uganda is in — is critical as there is a high risk the resources initially spent will be wasted.

Pascal Jequier, a communication delegate of ICRC Uganda, says: “You can’t tell when these development programmes will complete the planning phase, and when benefits will reach the communities. So this transitional phase is key.”

For instance, Liberia almost broke down after the long-standing conflict ended as the government could not provide services such as water, health and education, while relief and emergency organisations packed up and left too soon after peace was restored.

Says Jequier: “We reduced our budget by 20 per cent in northern Uganda last year in a gradual scale back phase that will see us stop operations in two to three years.”

Nonetheless, there are too many able-bodied people still in the camps at Mede, Pabbo and Lugore, waiting for help from the World Food Programme.

At best, they run small vegetable gardens within the camp.

The situation could change for the worse as the WFP says it will cut food rations for over 1 million internally displaced people due to an unexpected drop in donor funds.

I travelled to Gulu to assess the region’s readiness to go it alone.

There are commendable efforts by the government and development partners to sustain the ongoing projects.

But there are certain inadequacies, especially in health care.

Field officers expressed fear over continuing services when the government takes over the facilities, as it has not been living up to its obligations.

It is a classic example of teething problems encountered in transitional phases.

Donor organisations swap substitute doctors for government workers.

“We provide only those drugs that the government has not got, or build and rehabilitate neglected health centres. We work with government nurses, whom we train in health and management skills,” said Thilo Guettler, a water and habitat delegate of the ICRC.

Jovana Ajok, the officer in charge of Lugore Health Centre II, in Palaro sub-county, said there were four government workers in the facility serving an area with about 6,200 people.

She runs the centre on a target-chart system introduced by the ICRC, where targets are determined by the population in relation to government targets — such as first time outpatients, antenatal cases, immunisation and those with ailments like malaria and HIV.

“With this chart, I can tell how many people to expect at the clinic. For instance, 5 per cent of the population of women in an area is usually pregnant. From that, I can tell how many maternity visits to expect each month. I work with village health volunteers and we usually meet the target,” said Ajok.

ICRC has built three two-bedroomed houses at the health centre for the staff, the kind of houses going for Ush200,000 ($100) per month in Gulu town.

The health centre is well stocked. But Ajok is worried about what could happen if the clinic is handed over to the government.

She recalls a case where the government delivered coartem, an anti-malaria drug, two years after the requisition was made.

I found out that Care International, another development partner, had built this health centre as a three-roomed block, and later handed it over to the government.

When delivery of services deteriorated, the ICRC came in.

It restocked the centre with medicine and built an additional block for wards, staff quarters, an incinerator and a refrigerator, to store vaccines. It also fenced off the centre.

My next stop is Labworomor Health Centre III, in the same sub-county.

It faces similar challenges but has a guaranteed water supply for the health facility, using a hybrid water system that the ICRC set up.

The hybrid water system comprises a borehole with manual and electronic pumping systems, aided by a solar-run motor.

ICRC engineer Martin Okot says the system can work for an average four hours a day to fill a 10,000 litre tank about 50 metres away.

Currently, ICRC is installing 24 solar panels to run a water system in Pabbo, the biggest camp for internally displaced people — currently 30,000, down from a peak of 65,000.

The water system at Pabbo Primary School pumps 44,000 litres of water every day.

ICRC was to hand over this site to the government in 2007, but did not do so because local authorities could not foot the maintenance bill of 120 litres of fuel every two weeks to run generators.

The handover is expected this month after the solar panels are fixed.

Guettler expects about 10,000 people to remain in Pabbo camp after the rest return to their villages.

If the water is more than enough, some water points will be turned into quality and quantity monitoring sites.

“Last year, we got a list of 55 water sites from Gulu and Amuru districts. We assessed 36 and selected 16 sites for drilling of boreholes alone,” says Guettler.

The water situation has improved. In 2007, water supply was at 1,000 people per water point.

This improved to 700 in 2008, and to about 600 this year — against the national target of 300 people per water point.

The government has started a water and sanitation facility, which will draw from Ush17.8 billion ($9 million) investments in small towns and rural areas in 16 districts of northern Uganda.

It will improve water indicators in the countryside, given that social services have been concentrated in refugee camps.

Some people don’t want to return to the villages, and each has their own reasons.

Rose Laduong, 56, does not remember when she started living in Lugore camp.

“I lost my husband some years ago. Since women cannot inherit land here, I have nothing to go back to in that village. I lost four children, and I am left with one child and three grandchildren who all depend on me. I can no longer till the land as I’m asthmatic and weak. I rely on handouts and a few crops from the kitchen garden.”

Laduong also works as a volunteer birth attendant.

Recently, she started referring women to Lugore Health Centre II, where I met her.

The dependence syndrome is still pronounced in Gulu, but this must change as the area is now secure.

On my trip, I arrived in Gulu at 8:45pm, and there was a bus by the roadside with less than 10 passengers, waiting to fill up for a journey to Kampala in an hour.

This is an indication of peace in the area.

It is for this reason that ICRC, in the transitional phase, is focusing on economic security.

For instance, it aims to provide farming implements to 20,000 households in Amuru, eastern Kitgum, and eastern Pader. It will later purchase some of their produce.

But basic infrastructure like roads is still inadequate.

On the rough road to Mede satellite camp, a field officer I was travelling with told me that the stretch is virtually impossible during the rainy season.