Pader Secondary School

I met Christine through other CHAI staff and hired her in January to clean my apartment twice a week. I didn’t expect her to have such a huge influence on my time here in Uganda.

Christine is a single mom of three. Her daughter Ruth is 12 and is consistently the top of her class at a nice boarding school in town. One of my colleague pays for Ruth's school fees. I generally don’t support organizations that are based on a sponsorship model because I don’t think they’re addressing the root of the issue and can also have many unexpected consequences based on the way they select beneficiaries. However, how can I argue with the fact that Ruth is better off because Christine receives money to pay her school fees?

Sometime in February, I found out that Christine started a school in Pader, about 6 hours north of Kampala. I was confused. How did she start a school? She doesn’t have a lot of money, and I know she’s physically in Kampala because she comes to my apartment to clean each week. My colleagues also didn’t know what to make of the news. My first instinct was to learn more and figure out how I could help. However, I also understood why my colleague (the one who supports Ruth’s school fees) was skeptical. Why was Christine opening up a school to benefit other children when she can’t individually support her own children and their education costs? Those that had given Christine money over the years to build a garden and open a restaurant weren’t totally sure where that money went. 

While I had my doubts, I figured I should go talk to Christine in-person instead of speculating. The Sunday after I heard the news, I stopped by Christine’s house. How did she do it? Was the school functional? Who was running it? How many students were there? I dutifully came prepared with a list of questions that I quickly forgot about. 

Christine told me about how she, as a primary school dropout, knew first hand how difficult it was to make a life for herself and her family. She didn’t want others from her hometown to face the same fate. Many families in Pader could only support their children (and likely only a couple of them at that) through primary school. The secondary school fees were just too steep so children instead helped out around the house. I told Christine I wanted to help, but I was careful not to commit to anything. She gave me the contact of the school’s head teacher, Godfrey, who was able to tell me a bit more about the number of students, current operational costs, etc. 

Timing seemed to be in our favor. I was headed up north to do some field work in Gulu and I told Christine that if she would meet me there, I would travel with her to Pader to see the school for myself. If I could better understand what was happening and what the biggest needs were, then I’d know what to do.

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​Christine met me at my hotel in Gulu on Saturday morning and we set off on our ~2 hour journey to Pader. She had gone to the taxi station early to book our seats so that we wouldn’t have to sit in the back of the minivan. Even though we had the middle row (we missed the front seats by just a few minutes), the ride was bumpy, hot, and uncomfortable. Counting the babies and infants, I think we had at least 14 people in the van for the majority of the ride. At one point, we picked up a man with a suitcase. I was sure there was no place for him to sit. But, the taxi driver just hastily folded down the back seats so more people could flow over into the trunk space. 

When we arrived in Pader, Christine was eager to show me her room, which she shares with her sister, Brenda, who lives in Pader full time. Brenda runs the restaurant which some of my colleagues’ money went towards. At the time of my visit, Brenda was in Gulu tending to some health issues. The restaurant, which Christine only trusts Brenda to run, was therefore closed for the time being. 

Godfrey, the head teacher, came to meet us shortly after our arrival and we headed over to the school. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting much. I had prepared myself to be disappointed. But instead, Christine and Godfrey eagerly showed me around the school There are two large classrooms, a main office, and a staff rest area. The building used to be occupied by World Vision, which has decreased its presence in the region. Christine has paid the lease through the end of the year. 

The school had a sign and a stamp. These were two things that wouldn’t have been at the top of my list of necessarily expenditures, but they are items that give the school a sense of legitimacy and permanence. 
They needed more books, money to fix up the latrine which wasn’t yet functional, chairs for the classroom which were currently on loan from Christine’s restaurant, and enough money each month to pay their teachers. The list wasn’t long and besides the teachers’ salaries, wouldn’t really cost that much. But, a nagging voice in my head yelled “sustainability! This needs to be sustainable!!!”

​I walked away from the school feeling excited for Godfrey, Christine, and the community. This was a huge need. Pader Secondary School was offering a quality education (all the teachers had degrees) at about a fifth of the cost of other schools in town. Do I support education? Yes. Do I believe it’s a necessity for all children? Yes. Do I believe education is of utmost importance in a country like Uganda with a growing birth rate and young population? Yes.

So, what was holding me back from calling my friends and family and throwing a few hundred dollars at a good cause? After all, I had seen it with my own eyes, run through my list of 30 or so questions, and talked to some of the staff members. This was real. It wasn’t just a ruse to get a few extra bucks from some naive muzungus. 

The situation, however, didn’t align with what I believed at the time. I wanted the school to have a long-term plan. I didn’t want to feel like what I could do was just a short-term solution until I inevitably left the country. So, I tried brainstorming. I made a list of NGOs within the region that might be willing to donate time, money, and skills. I reached out to some Duke Engage students who had worked in Uganda over the past few years - maybe some of them were looking for a gap year before the “real world” hit. I talked to my Ugandan colleagues to figure out what I needed to know and how they thought I could help. I grappled with the fact that education might not be an area that is sustainable. It’s not a business, I thought. Our public education system in the United States is funded by taxpayers and private schools cost an arm and a leg. I couldn’t name a school in the states that was sustaining itself by selling produce from its own garden, so why should I expect that here? 

The end of March came around and Christine called asking for an advance on her salary so she could pay the teachers. She had similar requests of some of my colleagues that she also worked for. None of us said no. 

But, I knew I wouldn’t be here each month to help out. Eventually, some of us would say no. It wasn’t sustainable. So, I turned my efforts to capacity building. My Ugandan colleague, Brenda, knew of a woman who had started a successful and sustainable school in Kampala. I sent an email, explained the situation, and she agreed to meet. Christine, Brenda, and I went to meet her one week in April. She spoke of the hours she spent at the internet cafe doing research about how to run a school, sending emails to any organization she thought might want to help, etc. While she had some good ideas for us, her success story was heavily reliant on the urban location of her school and her strong English abilities. She talked about how she went from having two computers to a lab full of them. Pader Secondary School doesn’t even have a latrine. Or power. We’re a few steps behind that. Nonetheless, she had some great ideas and proved to Christine that a Ugandan woman with goals, could set out to achieve them. She told us that every student is an idea, so we should talk to our students. She reminded us that Uganda’s land is fertile, and we shouldn’t forget what is at our hands and feet (and usually free). 

I leave Uganda in a few days and I don’t have a solution for Christine and Godfrey. But, I think I’ve planted a good seed. Pader Secondary School has entered a school enterprise challenge where they may get the support of a local NGO to start a small business. Christine is considering rabbit farming as a way to generate income for the school. Godfrey is working to strengthen the next round of student recruitment to increase enrollment (and therefore school fees) without having to hire more teachers. I’ve introduced Christine to a few neighbors and friends that know more about Pader, farming, and / or education. A few of my family members have contributed some money and we’ve given Pader Secondary School a total of $300 USD - no strings attached.

While I wish I knew what was the best way to spend that money, at the end of the day, Christine and Godfrey understand their needs. After all the time I’ve spent with Christine talking to her about the importance of finding a way to cover school expenses, I trust that she has only the best intentions. After all, she knows that if the school has to close, then students will walk away without having gained much and she could’ve put her money elsewhere. 

I hoped I would walk away from my time here with stronger opinions about what makes international aid and development work successful. But the more I learn and see firsthand, the more I realize that isn't a one size fits all solution. Ultimately, what I see here is an incredibly hard working woman with a goal and strong work ethic. I haven’t jumped to any conclusions and I’ve done what I can to understand the context and situation. So, I’m confident that my support at the very least, hasn’t done any harm. And hopefully, by trusting my gut, this small push forward for Christine and her venture, will continue to build momentum and having a growing impact on the children of Pader. ​​