God is a thought who makes crooked all that is straight.

The last couple of days have been spent in Ngaramtoni which is where I have begun the process of starting small businesses for widows who look after their own children and those orphaned, as either a direct or indirect, result of the AIDS virus.

Ngaramtoni is not on a main road and can only be accessed via dirt tracks that would be considered impassable by most, not by the locals though. A steady stream of *Dala Dala's pours into and out of this ramshackle market town. There are very few brick buildings to speak of and it is mostly mud huts and tin/wood/straw dwellings that make up the towns shops and homes. The sewers are open and when it rains, which is every day at the moment, the turgid smell of human and animal waste fills the air and there is no way of avoiding tramping through the quagmire which is also ridden with the every day detritus that all towns create. There are goats, chickens, dogs and the occasional cow moving freely throughout. This is all fine with me though because I have been to Stoke-on-Trent and am well used to these sort of conditions.

I have been befriended by the local counselor/motel owner who is ensuring my work is aided and abetted by the locals. I am also working with another volunteer who is stationed in Ngaramtoni and staying with the aforementioned counsellor. I have not seen his home but, I can only imagine and hope that, it is a little more upmarket than the average. My colleague seems very well accustomed to the conditions and I would like to think I will be as settled as him by the end of the week.

The interview process for potential grant recipients has begun and the stories are nearly always harrowing and downright grim. We only have the physical capacity to help very few and it is clear that what is needed is a large scale project, of sustainable aid work, which it is just not possible to provide for the benefit of everybody. What is acutely upsetting, to me, is that for the most severely desperate and needy there is little that can be done because they are either too ill too help themselves or their social situation precludes them from the type of support we can offer.

Looking at the people in this shanty town it is impossible to understand the smiling faces that you see all around you and the constant greetings and hands that are offered in friendship and out of curiosity. Yet, unbelievably, overall I would have to describe this place as a happy one. Religion plays a very strong part in the culture of the people here, and for the sake of form I will not air my views on the subject in this public forum but, I have to share the limited picture that has been painted for me in this satellite town.

Despite the extreme poverty in Ngaromtoni the collection plate in the churches is always overflowing and it is clear that the devotion to God is a binding glue in the community. This devoted sense of giving jars strongly with what I have heard from all the interviews I have conducted so far.

None of the women I have spoken to have received any help from the church except for prayers and the hope that God will provide. It could be they wanted me to feel sorry for them and so denied their churches charity but, I doubt this was the case.

Today my guide took me to one of the few large, brick-built houses in the region, with modern windows and a nice garden, and very proudly announced it is being built for his pastor. It may well be that the leaders of the spiritual community in Ngaramtoni are in fact personally wealthy and my cynicism is misplaced, however, I have very grave doubts about this side of life in this town and about the tangible benefits that these particular religious outposts provide apart from for those at the top of the religious tree.

I hope that my colleagues and I and all of those who have generously donated their time and money to this idea for making things better out here are successful and I believe we can bring not only hope but, real and tangible changes to the area and to a handful, at least, of the people.

Of course I will keep you all informed and as soon as my large, brick-built house is completed you are invited to come and stay......




*Toyota vans crammed full to bursting point with locals, their produce and of course the obligatory, livestock up to the size of goats.