Lwemuna Primary School and Circumcision Ceremonies

The compound with it's manicured heavy green grass meticulously maintained by a man with a sieve and large trees that gave way to simple brick and mud buildings and chickens, goats, cows and a mischievous pig running freely was not quite what I had in mind when told I would be staying at the Chief JusticeTsekooko's Residence in the small village of Lwemuna, about 30 Kilometer South of Mbale. Richard one of the school teachers of the Lwemuna Primary School showed me my quarters trying to paint a rosy picture of how we would live for the next two weeks.
"This is the reception room" he said as we walked into the simple brick building that resembled a cattle shed rather accommodation, with it's corrugated tin roof dotted with small holes where the bright afternoon sun was penetrating through, casting Lazar like beams of light onto the concrete floor. "and through hear can be one bedroom" as we entered a small empty room to the right of the reception room with white washed walls that had started to turn a light brown from the dust. "and if you follow me through here I'll show you the other bedroom" taking me back across the reception room and into an even smaller room again with browning white washed walls and even more holes penetrating the tin roof making it look like a bazaar constellation in the nights sky "and finally this room can be for eating and socialising" as we walked into the back room, a larger version of the other two rooms I'd just been shown with the exception of containing some furniture, four wooden fold-up chairs and a wooden coffee table. "so what do you think?"
"Yeah great" I said, trying to hide my trepidation "I thought we were being supplied mattresses though?"
"Don't worry, all will be sorted" Richard said in an unconvincing manor. After six months of traveling I had begun to be weary of Africans that used the words "don't worry" as it normally meant the opposite.

Lwenuna Primary School with over 700 pupils and only three completed classrooms where students either attended morning or afternoon classes was in need of additional buildings and for the first time I could see the scale of the work ahead of us. Foundations needed to be dug, large quantities of cement required mixing by hand and brinks needed laying. Makasa, a local man from central Uganda, slight in frame and almost hitting sixty with a real love of brandy was to be our project manager. With over 20 projects under his belt I could see why. For the next ten days we would be completing as much of the project as time and money would allow. The projects only funds coming from international volunteers and the local community was running slowly due to lack of sponsorship and real management.
Local children who attended the school came each day to help with the manual work. I was continuously shocked by how hard children as young as six years old were whiling to work and how able they were to perform the adult tasks of mixing cement, digging and carrying heavy loads of sand and water.