United Nations
Development Programme

Plot 24 Prince Charles Drive, Kololo

P.O Box 7184

Kampala, Uganda

Tel: (256) 414-233440/1/2/5

Fax: (256) 414-344801

Email: registry.ug@undp.org

By Nick Donin, Medical School student at Columbia University and former intern at the Ruhiira Millennium Village Project

When you give someone directions in Ruhiira Uganda, there are only two descriptors… either up, or down. You’re either moving up the slopes towards the highland plateaus, or you’re moving down into the valleys, where the residents have planted their banana plantations amongst the topsoil which has been washing off the hilltops for the last 50 years. Most of the story of Ruhiira is shaped by these hills. Water, food, environment, health, business… almost all of it is affected, in some way, by the hills.

To get to Ruhiira, you drive 38km south from Mbarara, the nearest major town, in Southwestern Uganda. Your vehicle winds it way gradually up and up the dusty dirt roads through banana plantations; past men pushing rusty bicycles impossibly loaded with enormous bunches of green bananas (‘matoke’) or dozens of pineapples and past children running amongst the roadside plantations. When you arrive in the parish of Ruhiira, the air is noticeably cooler. Two or three dozen mud houses and an intersection define the trading center. Town residents carry out much of their commerce here, be it selling vegetables, serving locals meals or running a hair saloon. This is unmistakably the center of town. A pool table outside one of the saloons is perpetually surrounded by at least 10 onlookers. Residents roast goat muchomo and fry chapattis, children herd their cows. Motorcycle taxis loiter at the intersection waiting for possible business. There is the constant presence of livestock, either the property of permanent residents of the trading center, or merely passing through on their way to graze somewhere nearby.

The roads here are almost impossibly dusty during the dry months of June and July. Any vehicle passing by sends up an ultra-fine brown dust cloud hangs in the air for minutes and manages to coat everything in site, resulting in the need for frequent de-dusting of both people and property.

As a summer intern with the Millennium Villages Project, these are the conditions I have come to see, and whether or not the interventions implemented by the project are having any effect in assisting the people in thriving in this environment. As an intern, I prefer to keep a low profile, and simply observe. But that is difficult when you are a Mzungu: a white person. While people with white skin have become commonplace here in Ruhiira, thanks to the Millennium Villages Project, village residents are still eager to talk to someone who has clearly come from far away to visit their small town. Most of them are as kind as any people you will have the pleasure of meeting. Greetings are gracious, invitations to eat are profuse, and nearly everyone thanks you for coming to their village to help improve conditions there.

And the conditions need improving. Water is one, if not most essential problems for the people of Ruhiira. If you want some idea of what it’s like to be a resident of Ruhiira, get and empty 20 liter jerry can, and experience what most Ruhiira residents have to do 2-3 times a day just to get water. Because the residents of Ruhiira live on the hilltops, and the porous soil of Ruhiira allows most of the rainfall to drain into the valleys, the only real sources of water for residents are temporary waterholes that exist only for as long as it’s raining, and the few natural springs that exist deep in the valleys. The waterholes are generally contaminated with bacteria, suspended particles, and often evaporate during the dry seasons. This means that for residents, the only way to obtain reliably clean water from their hilltop houses is to hike down into the valley to access the springs. This involves walking distances of up to 5 km to reach the spring, descending slopes of 45 degrees on crumbling dirt paths, filling their containers at the spring, and then hauling these 20 liter, 20kg containers back up the hills and back to their house. Consider not only the physical toll this takes on the men, women, and children doing this, but the opportunity cost of devoting this much time to simply getting water. Then imagine doing this 2 or 3 times per day. I’ve done it myself. At one point we ran out of the water that the project supplied us at the research house, so we had to fetch ours from the spring, just like the rest of the residents. It wears you out, and it takes time. Lots of time.

One day in Ruhiira I met a young boy named Bobs. The first thing that stood out about Bobs immediately was his English. He spoke PERFECT English. It was literally as if I was speaking with a native English speaker. I was amazed. Bobs told me he lived in Ruhiira, and was a primary school student. I told Bobs about how I had come to Ruhiira as an intern, and would be around for a few months. We spoke for a while, after which Bobs told me he had to be on his way. What struck me that day, aside from the English, was the poised and professional way Bobs seemed to carry himself, as if his young age belied a much older and wiser soul inside. Bobs and I would run into each other frequently in Ruhiira, as is always the case in a small village. I was always eager to talk with him, because communication was so fluid and relatively sophisticated, on account of his perfect English. The more time I spent with Bobs, the more I realized just how extraordinarily intelligent he was. He had a grasp of concepts that I would never have expected from a person his age, and his poised, formal-yet-friendly attitude almost made me feel like he was the adult and I was the child. One day I introduced him to another intern who was from the Philippines. "Ahh, the Philippines," Bobs replied, "The capital is Manila." Again, I was blown away.

I started thinking about Bobs more and more. His parents have a small farm, like most Ruhiira residents, where they scrape out a living growing crops and raising livestock. Because his family is very poor, they may not have enough money to pay is school fees, and Bobs may not be able to finish high school. I found myself wondering what will become of Bobs in the future. Will Bobs become a farmer like his parents? Will he spend the rest of his life cultivating a small subsistence farm, not because he chooses to, but because he has no other opportunities, no other choice? Worse than this was thinking about how many Bobs are out there in the countless poor communities, brilliant and motivated, but trapped by poverty…

The Ruhiira Millennium Village project tries to do just that, lift people out of poverty. Small subsistence farmers like Bobs parents are being empowered with better crops, storing techniques, and business skills to sell their products. Through their increased productions, parents are now contributing to the immensely popular school-feeding programme, which allows Bobs to stay in school.

If Bobs lived in America he would be the president of his high school class. He would be admitted to a world-class university. He would inspire his classmates and his professors. He would publish groundbreaking papers. He would change the industry he works in. He would be elected a leader. He would bring together warring factions and make them see the benefit in cooperation. He would negotiate peace treaties. He would bring reform to corrupt governments. He would motivate, inspire, and change for the better.

Thanks to the Millennium Village Project, he just may, one day, realize his tremendous potential.