What happens when a country starts to look like a poorly-run orphanage

Benjamin Rukwengye

What you need to know:

  • Makes you feel sorry for those who have made it their business to fix Uganda. They see the problem and know what is required to fix the leakages. They worry that the leaky roof will eventually weaken the foundation and collapse the house

In the period leading up to Easter of 2012, together with a couple of friends, we spent our time mobilizing supplies to deliver to two orphanages. That effort would turn into the organization now known as the 40 Days Over 40 Smiles Foundation. But that’s not the topic of today’s column.

We ended up deciding to support one orphanage whose situation looked a lot more dire. 130 children are housed in a three bedroom house. There probably was a system in place – seeing as the place had been running for 7 years before our arrival – but that system wasn’t evident and it showed.

The place relied, solely on the memory, mood, and temperament of the founder. When she was angry, the organization was angry. When she was happy, the same thing happened. The records were kept in her head so only she was certain of how many children were in the establishment, where they had come from, and how. The organization was also not registered – for some reason – but because it operated in emergency relief mode, the authorities often cut them lots of slack.

We knew that this modus operandi was untenable and would cut whatever good intention existed. Serious partners wouldn’t touch the initiative with a long stick if its status wasn’t legalized. There was no way to identify the hemorrhaging or stop it because nothing was getting tracked beyond consumption.

It was also impossible to guarantee any quality for anything because of the haphazard manner in which everything was handled. Even worse, the fact that the system relied on the presence and whims of the founder also meant that the future was precarious. Without functional systems, what would happen if she was incapacitated or dropped dead?

So, we brought our lugezigezi and pitched the idea of structures and proper systems. Recordkeeping and a database with every child, complete with an entry and exit form to track the children. Health files. Contracts for teachers to formalize their employment and find money to pay them. Registration with relevant authorities so that fundraising is easier.

We didn’t go very far. She gave us the go-ahead and acted like she was all in, only for her to silently issue orders to have the process sabotaged. We had exasperating runarounds for the next couple of weeks until it became clear to us what was going on. It made sense at that point, to abandon the cause and let the patient meet their inevitable end.

While reflecting on that period with a friend years later, he said that chaos, lethargy, and inefficiency serve a purpose. They demonstrate the importance of systems. Basically, it is harder to appreciate the value of deodorant in the absence of foul body odor. Or why you need clean water until you are diseased from drinking dirty water.

Countries are pretty much like that. Bad roads, the lack of accountability, an amorphous structure that defeats the purpose, constant inability to get the basics right, a never-ending state of emergency, and the unhealthy reliance on the leader, without whom decisions don’t get made, are very bad signs.

That environment makes it difficult to forecast or mitigate risks. It curtails the ability to attract partners and investors because they never really know what is going on or what to expect. It certainly makes it harder to grow internal capacity because that can only thrive in an orderly structure.

Which sometimes makes you feel sorry for those who have made it their business to fix Uganda. They see the problem and know what is required to fix the leakages. They worry that the leaky roof will eventually weaken the foundation and collapse the house. When they talk to those with the power to remedy the situation, it usually ends with them discovering that they are chasing their tails.

The thing is, an orphanage can close. The kids can get resettled and the owner can channel her charity to another cause. But what happens when hospitals don’t have drugs, equipment, or personnel? What happens when schools are the way that Uganda’s are, where teachers pretend to teach and learners pretend to learn?

What happens when your labor force cannot find gainful employment? When people spend huge chunks of their workdays in traffic because the roads are bad and clogged? What happens when funders have had enough of your malaise and theft, and decide to close the taps? What happens?

Mr Rukwengye is the founder, Boundless Minds. @Rukwengye