The Monitor (Kampala)

Uganda: Living in the Slum With Pigs and Cholera

Jackson Oboth

28 October 2008


analysis

Kampala — Erisa Olowo,60, is one happy man. He is happy to have a roof over his head, six sons who go to school and three pigs in his compound.

Unfortunately, Olowo's home is no less than a mud and wattle single-roomed shack, nested at the edge of a wetland close to a railway line in Kinawataka Zone B. A pig sty stands close to the door of the Olowo's hut surrounded by stagnant water.

The curved outter section of the wetland is dotted with several mud and wattle shacks that house close to thirty families. Each shack has a pig sty erected close to it. Stagnant water mixed with pig urine and droppings together with rotten fruit that the pigs feed on form a cocktail of some unbearable stench in the neighborhood.

The back of Olowo's shack, like those of his neighbors' is greeted by an expanse of papyrus reeds that create the wetland separating Kinawataka Zone B from Banda and Nakawa areas. In the backyard, two pregnant pigs compete with little children, baskets in hands, determined to catch some fish in a pool of dirty brown water.

On the day we visited the slum, Olowo was going about his chores, feeding his pigs, oblivious of the cholera deaths that had been announced in the area the previous day.

Formerly employed by Uganda Railways in the late 70's, Olowo was retired in 1986. He then retreated to his native village in Peta Pakoyi, Budama North Constituency where life became unbearable. Five years later, Olowo came back to Kampala and pioneered the construction of a mud and wattle house at the edge of the Kinawataka swamp. Today Olowo is a landlord of sorts, with rooms for close to thirty families. The tenants pay rent of between Shs3,000 -5,000 monthly.

On noticing our presence, Olowo quickly sends a little boy to find out if we are Health Officials from Kampala City Council. We soon understood the old man's discomfort with the presence of strangers in the area. It is evident that because of the absence of pit latrines, residents let out human waste in buveera (polythene bags) and toss the contents in a swamp.

Olowo admits that some daring tenants, who return late at night from a drinking spree, defecate in polythene bags which they toss on the roof of other people's huts!

His camp is not the only slum with the problem of poor sanitation and hygiene. The previous day in Katogo Zone, a neighbouring area, four out of the 38 people who had been taken ill in the last one month died of cholera at Mulago Hospital. Over 700 people live in the area with only one pay toilet constructed by Kampala City Council.

Just like Olowo's slum, in Katogo zone, people's houses have been flooded with water because of the rains. "The rain water washes away human waste and contaminates food and water, causing diarrhoea" says Mr Ibrahim Ssali, the area Local Council Health Officer.

But in the midst of a hopeless situation, there is one reason for the residents to smile. There is an endless flow of spring water from a protected well, just a few yards from the shacks where Olowo and other slum dwellers live.

DFCU Bank Head of Marketing, Susan N. Nkugwa says the well was rehabilitees in order to make a difference in the lives of people living in high risk conditions, like in Kinawataka. "It is satisfying to see that the work that dFCU staff did with the residents is still benefitting the community." Nkugwa says.

Grace Apecho, 28 from Acholi Quarters who was washing a heap of clothes under the watchful eyes of her husband Engwau Patrick said the well is the only good thing to happen to them in a long time. "No wonder the people living in Katogo Zone are already dying of cholera because they have no access to clean water," she says.

According Apecho, the community still needs a lot of intervention in order to improve their way of life. "We're glad DFCU was able to make a positive difference by providing a clear source of water amidst the pre-existing conditions."

As Apecho and her husband in tow crossed the road on their way back to Acholi quarters, a sudden shower engulfed us. Olowo quickly ducked inside his windowless shack, a small radio in hand, as he bade farewell to us. There was no doubt from the glint in his aging eyes, that Kinawataka swamp, is the very epitome of his life.

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