Earlier this week, my team and I distributed some seeds to our beneficiary groups. It's just one part of our program, but a significant task. We had a long procurement process and the seeds came up from a few different parts of the country. The roads are nearly all washed away now so instead of the normal 5 hour trip, it took about 4 days. After receiving the seeds, we offload and stored them, then gathered the communities to receive the seeds. This year we made a standardized system so each person received 2 kg of 3 different varieties of seeds. Sounds straightforward enough. We distributed the seeds per group, then the groups went off to the side to divide the bounty and head home. As I sat back and watched, I was amazed at a few things. #1. No thank you's. The karamojong drive me crazy in this. Unappreciative and entitled to everything. Part of it is our fault, the aid community which just gives and gives and gives. The people are so used to the handout they don't even question when the next one is coming. They even complain that the current handout isn't enough. #2. No matter how much of a conflict sensitive approach you take, everything can be fought over in Karamoja. We had standardized rations, everyone got the same amount, yet I sat back and watched group after group fight and argue over how much everyone gets. Amazing, just amazing. No amount of explaining the system could rationalize it.
It was a good day to be in the field and see my staff and to sweat alongside them as we chuck bags of seeds everywhere, but a depressing one to see a people lacking dignity, quarreling amongst themselves and be so unappreciative of someone else's gift. Though my initial reaction is to judge and hate on the ungrateful Karamojongs, I have to be a bit introspective and asks myself, haven't I done the same? Haven't I neglected to thank God for the many gifts I receive on a daily basis. A bag of seeds here, a small answer to prayer there, an encouragement from an friend, a small sight of beauty. God's grace is a handout. I am happy to accept it but so frequently I just take my metaphorical seeds and go home, forgetting that someone paid a price for them, had to wait 4 days for the flooded road to reappear, and sweat and labored so I could have them.
Parodied from Isaiah 54: Despised and rejected by men, we esteemed him not. Pierced for our transgressions. He was oppressed and afflicted. Like sheep we've gone astray.
It was a good day to be in the field and see my staff and to sweat alongside them as we chuck bags of seeds everywhere, but a depressing one to see a people lacking dignity, quarreling amongst themselves and be so unappreciative of someone else's gift. Though my initial reaction is to judge and hate on the ungrateful Karamojongs, I have to be a bit introspective and asks myself, haven't I done the same? Haven't I neglected to thank God for the many gifts I receive on a daily basis. A bag of seeds here, a small answer to prayer there, an encouragement from an friend, a small sight of beauty. God's grace is a handout. I am happy to accept it but so frequently I just take my metaphorical seeds and go home, forgetting that someone paid a price for them, had to wait 4 days for the flooded road to reappear, and sweat and labored so I could have them.
Parodied from Isaiah 54: Despised and rejected by men, we esteemed him not. Pierced for our transgressions. He was oppressed and afflicted. Like sheep we've gone astray.
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