Tag Archives: #Museveni

UCU moves ahead with e-learning as Uganda gives partial lift to education lockdown


The UCU Deputy Vice-Chancellor for Academic Affairs, Dr. John Kitayimbwa; Deputy Vice-Chancellor for Finance and Administration, Mr. David Mugawe; University Council Chairman Prof. Alfred Olwa; and Vice-Chancellor Assoc. Prof. Aaron Mushengyezi pose after a recent meeting. (Photo by Sam Tatambuka)

By John Semakula
The government of Uganda has lifted its six-month lockdown on education, allowing schools to reopen on October 15 for candidate classes and for finalists in institutions of higher learning.

Uganda’s President Yoweri Museveni announced the move on Sunday evening (September 20) in his address to the nation about the state of the coronavirus pandemic in the country.

By Sunday, Ugandans infected with the coronavirus were 6,827 and only 63 fatalities.
President Museveni noted in his address that the decision to reopen academic institutions that have been closed since March 20 was meant to reduce the possibility of clogging in the education system.

“If we don’t allow the 2020 batch of finalists to move on, what will happen to the batch of 2021?” the President asked, observing that the smaller number of finalists will make it easier to observe social distancing while at school. The figures presented by President Museveni showed that of Uganda’s 15 million learners, there are 1.2 million finalists.

President Museveni also declared the reopening of the International Airport and land borders, which could allow international students to return and complete their studies.
These students, as with all foreigners coming to Uganda, must test negative for COVID-19 within 72 hours before their arrival. The government also lifted the lockdown in border districts across the country to allow students to travel back to their schools.

The lifting of the lockdown on academic institutions came at the time when Uganda Christian University (UCU) was finalizing its plans to roll out the eLearning training for staff and online distance learning for students.

Earlier this month, UCU conducted online pre-entry exams for law students. UCU Vice-Chancellor Assoc. Prof. Aaron Mushengyezi noted that this virtual examination was a landmark achievement for the University that wants to strive to be “paperless” and become a leader in distance learning in the country. Mushengyezi and the Deputy Vice-Chancellor for Academic Affairs, Dr. John Kitayimbwa have said the university will roll out online distance learning on October 15, regardless of government lifting of education restrictions.

On the issue of the staff contracts, which were suspended in June, the deputy Vice-Chancellor in charge of Finance and Administration, David Mugawe, has said the affected staff will be reinstated on the payroll as soon as the lectures start in October.

In Uganda, private academic institutions mainly rely on students’ tuition fees for their operations. But Assoc. Prof. Mushengyezi has vowed to work with the private sector to grow the University’s revenue.

In May, UCU released the teaching timetable for the final year students who were supposed to be in sessions during the Trinity Semester (May-August), but withheld it after government extended the lockdown on academic institutions. Following the Sept. 20 President announcement, the University must decide if it will revise the same timetable or release a new one.
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Sarah Lagot Odwong, UCU graduate and USAID employee

COVID-19: Panic buying, added work from home, trusting God


Sarah Lagot Odwong, UCU graduate and USAID employee
Sarah Lagot Odwong, UCU graduate and USAID employee

By Sarah Lagot Odwong

March 21st, 2020. 11:32 p.m. Uganda had its first identified case of COVID-19.

My mind buzzed with a thousand thoughts. Only weeks earlier, my siblings and I – with our own bills to pay – had emptied our savings to complete a large part of the construction work for my mother’s house. Because her life had been wrought with difficulty, it was always our dream to give her a place of rest.

There is no good time to be dirt poor, but having a bank account blinking red when a government shutdown is inevitable is the worst of times. Sleep eluded me.

I arose early on March 22. On my way to work, I noticed the unusual flurry of activity on the Kampala roads. The traffic was horrendous. Pedestrians trudged in silence on the pavements with swift gaits and downcast faces. The boda-bodas (motorcyclists) rode dangerously, swerving and wedging through the small crevices within the disorganized flow of traffic. It was a dystopian sight. I got into work in a pensive mood. I did not have much time to settle at my desk as a staff meeting was hurriedly called.

We sat hunched on white rickety plastic chairs in the parking yard. The chairs were spaced out from each other. Some staff wore masks. Others nervously tinkered with their phones.

Our boss announced, in part:

“As you all know, the first positive case of COVID-19 was confirmed last night. The grapevine alleges that the country will be in some sort of lock down. It will probably be announced later tonight when the President makes his address. I suggest that we share work plans with line managers and get all the resources we need to work from home…You will have your salaries in your bank accounts by this afternoon…”

At least some positive news. I got a notification from my bank at 1 p.m. that my account had been credited.

I picked up my bag, scampered to the car and drove to the nearest supermarket. I passed by the bank ATM at the premises, withdrew some cash and sauntered into the store. Inside, the panic buying had already ensued. There was a mad dash by shoppers. The queues stretched for miles. Shoppers’ trolleys were loaded with toilet paper, kitchen towels, soap, wipes and other hygiene products. Others heaped vegetables, milk, bread, cartons of beer, meat and liquor.

Only one big bag of rice remained. I grabbed it. I proceeded to pick up other dry rations, hygiene products and joined the snaking lines to pay prices that had increased tremendously in a matter of hours. Little bottles of sanitizer that were affordable a week earlier now cost almost ten times more. I bought just one.

Like anticipated, President Yoweri Museveni announced a lockdown of the country for an initial 14 days. After the two weeks lapsed, 21 additional days were added.

While fortunate to still have a job, my workload increased with hours extending from early morning to late at night. Not only do I have a full-time job, I also support the crisis communications for the epidemic response.

Before the outbreak, I was living out of suitcases, on the road for days and sometimes weeks at a time, working long hours. Now at home, my workload has ramped up even more. I jealously read texts in group chats from my girlfriends who suddenly find themselves with bursts of free time. They are learning new languages on Duolingo, learning to sew and evidently having an extended holiday off work.

Not me. I spend my days hunched at a desk in the living room with my pajamas on and my hair tied in a headscarf. I am writing, attending endless Zoom and Skype meetings, and tending to incessant phone calls.

What I have found hardest is the physical distance and inability to see family – both in Uganda and elsewhere. No travel on roads or in the air. We created a family chat group on WhatsApp, which helps my coping. Seeing videos of my nieces and nephews doing hilarious things, the new baby attempting to walk and other family milestones, I am reminded that there is hope after this plague blows over. And it will.

What precious time I have away from my computer, I am reminded to prioritize the things that really matter. Family, faith, friendships, love and personal development.  We waste time chasing the wind, like the writer of Ecclesiastes opines. The “busy” job, the career growth, and monetary gain. All of it is meaningless.

What this pandemic has shown is that when it is stripped down, life makes meaning with just the simple things. Healthy thriving relationships with God, family, friends and the people who love and support you. They will always be a constant. All the other material contraptions we chase fade away. This epiphany has made me change gear.

In what I hope are the final days of this lockdown, I have a different attitude and mindset. Going forth, I aim to structure my work to fit within regular hours. I aim to find more time to check on the people I love.

I am determined to create extra time to pursue my passion projects. I wrote a book during my undergraduate studies that I need to publish this year. I have autobiography projects that I must complete. I have a consulting business to grow. I have a PhD proposal to write. There are friends and family to check on. I have series of sermons to watch.

I have seen the Lord’s handiwork amidst this chaos. He has been faithful. There is no day I have slept hungry. I have a roof over my head. My utility bills are paid. I still have a job. When I feel overwhelmed, I remember that the creator of the universe knew me before I was formed in my mother’s womb. He had the foresight that I would go through this calamity. And he promised to help me weather it.

(Sarah Lagot Odwong is a graduate of Mass Communication from Uganda Christian University and received her Master’s degree in Humanitarianism and Conflict Response from The University of Manchester, England. She currently works for USAID’s Better Outcomes for Children and Youth Activity as the Communications Director.)

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To support Uganda Christian University programs, students, activities and services, go to www.ugandapartners.org and click on the “donate” button, or contact UCU Partners Executive Director, Mark Bartels, at m.t.bartels@ugandapartners.org.

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Madonna waiting for her dad to come home from work

‘I can’t hug her the minute I get home’


Madonna waiting for her dad to come home from work
Madonna waiting for her dad to come home from work

By Constantine Odongo
Emmanuella Madonna is three years old. Every weekday, after taking her after-school nap, the kindergarten pupil engages her friends in the neighbourhood in games, such as dodge ball and hide-and-seek.

That was before mid-March 2020 and COVID-19.

On March 18, she got an abrupt, indefinite school holiday after the Ugandan government announced a closure of schools and a ban on work, unless it was an essential service. The ban was to enforce the health guideline of social distancing and staying home to combat the spread of the novel coronavirus, which has become a pandemic. Madonna now spends more time with her mother at home and keeps wondering why I, her father, cannot stay home with them.

Emmanuella Madonna studying from home
Emmanuella Madonna studying from home

As an employee of Uganda’s New Vision newspaper (i.e. news jobs are considered essential), it means I’m gone much of the day and conceivably more exposed to the potentially deadly virus.

Madonna doesn’t get that. She doesn’t understand why I can’t hug her the minute I get home between 6:45 and 7 p.m.

Uganda President Yoweri Museveni on March 30, 2020, announced a two-week stay-home order and capped it with a 11.5-hour curfew from 7 p.m. to 6:30 a.m. The order and the curfew were then extended by another three weeks.

Since, most times, the normal working hours at my office are not enough for me to accomplish my tasks, I often work up to the 11th hour.  My workplace, being a media house, is open 24 hours. But, nowadays, the newsroom is almost empty, save for security personnel, especially past 6 p.m. People abandon office early, in order to get home and beat the curfew time of 7 p.m.

It usually takes me up to 25 minutes to cover the 14km (8.5 miles) distance from my office located in the capital of Uganda, Kampala, to home in Kawempe, a city suburb. I spend close to half of that time at roadblocks, trying to explain to security why my media movement permit sticker is on the dashboard and not on the car screen.  Some motorists had lost their outside car stickers to thieves, who would pluck them off cars and sell them in the black market in Kampala, sometimes as high as one million shillings (about $280).

As I arrive home after work and oftentimes after the routine security interrogation, I see Madonna run to arms she can’t yet embrace – until I am cleansed of possible contamination to her and others in my family. I watch a fight brewing between Madonna and her nanny, who is seven times her age, but understands her job to keep a daughter from her dad in the world of COVID fear. I always ensure I bathe as soon as I arrive home, before getting into contact with anything or anyone, so that I do not become a conduit for the coronavirus.

Every morning, if Madonnna wakes up before I set off for work, she tries her luck in convincing me not to go to work that day. When President Museveni banned public and private cars from the roads on March 30, I carried my computer home and set up myself to work there. However, an unstable Internet network, an unfavorable work station and distractions by children hindered my ability to work.

Madonna’s sibling, Morgan, will be making one year on May 5. Throughout the day, I arbitrated disputes between her and Morgan. April 1 was day two of my full operation from home. We were both at our workstations, Madonna’s about two metres (6 feet) away from mine. When I stepped away from the room to receive a phone call, Madonna removed a keyboard key.

Madonna’s grandmother, a lady she was named after, lives and teaches in a primary school in Tororo district, located 220 kilometers (136.5 miles), east of Kampala. One-and-a-half weeks before the lockdown, schools were closed. Initially, teachers saw joy in the holiday. But it was short lived as they experienced more than one negative aspect of the lockdown.

Constantine Odongo
Constantine Odongo

The weekend after schools had been closed, as one example, Madonna’s grandmother attended a funeral in Tororo, without knowing that she and some friends were going against the guidelines of the Ministry of Health – that only close family members bury the dead due to social distancing. There were water points for the mourners to wash their hands before getting to the funeral, but not many even understood why the water and soap had been provided.

Such stories justify why the Government enlisted the services of the security forces to enforce the observance of the lockdown guidelines. I remind myself of this each time I am stopped. Life as we know it has changed for Madonna and me. With God’s guidance and understanding, we will appreciate the fruits of the difference and get through it.

(Constantine Odongo is a deputy chief sub-editor for New Vision. He received an MA degree in Journalism and Media Studies from Uganda Christian University.)

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To support Uganda Christian University programs, students, activities and services, go to www.ugandapartners.org and click on the “donate” button, or contact UCU Partners Executive Director, Mark Bartels, at m.t.bartels@ugandapartners.org.

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