What We Need to Survive

What We Need To Survive

There are very few things we need to survive in this life: food, shelter, clothing, beauty, love—and water.

Then there are the things we still consider valuable like Netflix subscriptions, Kitchenaid mixers, six cylinder trucks and vacations—but these things more luxuries than needs. 

To better illustrate this, consider the Diamond-Water Paradox. What we may consider of value here in the North America (like a diamond) is not considered as valuable to those who don’t have basic needs to survive (like water). Water would be considered more valuable than a diamond in desperate circusmstances.

In Uganda, they’re getting by on most fronts. There certainly might be better meals than matoke (boiled and mashed plantain) but they love it because it gives them a break from beans and rice.

Their homes are humble, usually concrete compounds or mud-walled abodes, but they do provide shelter.

Whether they’re wearing traditional kanga dresses or rocking a pair of crisp slacks and a freshly pressed shirt, they’re dressing better than maybe what we’d wear everyday. We don’t know how they do it with the dusty roads and jobs that often entail getting their hands dirty, but Ugandans make a keen impression with impeccably clean clothes.

Uganda has beauty in spades: green rolling hills checkered with farming plots; children running in rust coloured uniforms on a recess break; rectangular buildings painted red, lime, yellow, and blue, lining each road; a church full of song bursting out of the windows; a makeshift market under blue tarps on a slanted hill; infants cradled in pastel jumpers.

And of course, there’s love: between a mother and her newborn son, between an mzei and his wife of thirty years, between a village mayor and his community, between teachers and their students, between siblings, between neighbours, between friends. 

But water accessibility in Uganda is a problem, it is scarce in fact. Water trickles down the hillside and everyone has to share, even the cows and goats. The water gets muddied. The water gets contaminated. The water pools in stagnant swamps, where communities often collect it. They boil their water before drinking, hoping this will suffice, but more often than not, people get sick. Everyone knows the pain that typhoid brings. Everyone has spent weeks in bed and lost time to sickness. 

But then you step in. You give. You help bring water to the sick. You help bring hope to the downtrodden. You bring a solution to the water crisis.

We reflect on the opportunity, the opportunity we had to witness four water taps being turned on in Bwirambere. It’s was a joyous occasion. Hundreds of children came running down a field from their classrooms to witness this event. Mothers came out carrying infants and toddlers. The village mayor, Philip, was beaming with his bright smile. Christine, whose story encapsulated the struggle of this community, returned home from university in Mbarara to celebrate this moment. 

They turned on the taps. They celebrated. They sang. One community of women and children broke out in dancing, praising God and thanking you for generously providing them with this life-giving source. 

A clear glass cup was passed from hand to hand. They were patient and amazed. They savoured the experience.

Water. Clear, clean water. This is the miracle that you have helped provide by faithfully giving each month as a Monthly Member. We truly thank you and hope you will continue to help more villages like this one thrive.