Nothing’s stopped

Nothing’s stopped

A Q&A from Uganda

For over a decade, many of you have been faithfully praying and supporting BMS World Mission workers Joe and Lois Ovenden and Linda and Tim Darby. Now their time in Uganda has come to a close, we caught up with them about their reflections on serving with BMS– and the exciting plans for the BMS-supported team still there!

Hi Tim and Linda, Joe and Lois, it’s great to chat! We’d love to know: how did you think God was going to use you out in Uganda and how were you surprised by how God did end up using you there?

Linda Darby: I thought I would be in an office and managing the staff that were already there but actually God used my legal skills within the field, networking with local government, doing advocacy work and starting new projects. I didn’t foresee the child protection work either.

Tim Darby: I went with a completely blank slate. I started off doing a baseline assessment [for clean water provision in Gulu] and looking at rural areas, seeing what the situation was and how it could be improved. And then the borehole projects came out from that. It was quite freeing knowing that I could, within reason, do what I felt needed to be done based on the research.

Two families stood next to eachother

Lois and Joe Ovenden: I think one of the things we were surprised by was that being a safe space for other overseas workers felt like an important part of what God had asked us to do in Uganda too. That is something we ended up doing a lot of, being a community hub for long stretches of time. And because of the amount of support that we had from BMS, that gave us the capacity to be a support for other people.

Is there an encouraging moment that stands out to you from your time in Uganda?

Linda: I was really encouraged by the development within the team. Like seeing Jolly, who is the [BMS-supported] legal manager, from the beginning of her first year as a student and seeing her confidence, spirituality, and her heart and passion for the community around her grow. That was so encouraging to walk with her.

Tim: Yes, I think I was more encouraged by people than by the actual projects themselves. When you develop people’s skills then the projects kind of follow much more naturally.

Lois: One that comes to mind was being invited to the Gulu Down Syndrome support group meeting. That I was being invited to it! I wasn’t organising it, I didn’t set it up. They’re running it, these mums, and dads and also an uncle now, which is really encouraging. That I was now the invited guest as opposed to me trying to get everybody to come, that was super encouraging.

Joe: I think just seeing the team that we’ve built and the people we’ve had the privilege of working with – and thinking, you’re really sound, really functional and have lots of different skills and great working relationships. Knowing that all the ingredients are there for the work to be successful, and that it’s the right thing for us to be moving out the way.

A man in a white t shirt
Isaac has taken over Lois' work at the BMS-supported speech and language therapy clinic in Gulu.

How have you seen a passion for mission lived out in your colleagues?

A man and a woman
Jimmy and Phiona serve University Community Church in Gulu.

Linda: When interviewing for all of the jobs [at BMS partner Ugandan Lawyer’s Christian Fellowship], they put a lot of emphasis on spirituality and character, and seeing the team that is in Uganda right now, they’re strong characters. Strong characters who live their faith out every day, who have a heart for the vulnerable and marginalised members in the community.

Lois: The generosity of people like [BMS-supported workers] Jimmy and Phiona. The church fasts for January, so you eat in the evening at around 6 pm. And they would feed the church every night at their home. They live by faith, really, their whole lives just seem like they give endlessly of themselves and their time. They’re just an open door all the time, and they have a wider sense of family and community. Our Ugandan colleagues have got an amazing, intertwined life that is just being Jesus to people all the time.

What would you say to UK churches about the work that’s still going on in Uganda?

Tim: I think we’re excited that nothing’s stopped. Not a single project that either of us or the Ovendens started is ending now that we’re leaving. All of the work is still going on, it’s just being done by other people and they still need support and they still need prayer just as much as we did.

Linda: I think we would really encourage UK churches to continue both financially supporting the work in Uganda, but praying too. I believe that the success of the projects has been through their prayer. Just prayer for the team in Uganda, how the community perceives them, that they will be a light and that they will continue working the way they have been.

A man and a woman in Uganda
Please pray for BMS workers Genesis Acaye and Benon Kayanja.
A man in a blue coat

Lois and Joe: Philippians 1: 6 talks about taking work to completion. Our part here is completed but the work isn’t finishing. We’ve just done our leg of the relay. And the baton’s already handed on and they’re already running! We’d love to encourage people to support Benon and Genesis [and our other Ugandan colleagues] and to see that work flourish. All of the strands of the work are carrying on and still need support and prayer and finances, but they’re carrying on with our Ugandan colleagues taking the lead and that’s really encouraging.

You must have been shown some amazing displays of support from UK Christians, so if you had any last messages, what would you want to say?

Linda and Tim: We would say thank you and that we are truly grateful. We’ve had such encouragement, emails, messages. When we visited churches we were sometimes totally blown away by how many people have been praying faithfully about every stage, from us arriving to us leaving. We’re just very, very grateful for their generosity, their time, their effort in reading our prayer letters and in keeping in contact with us.

Lois and Joe: We can’t really overemphasize how grateful we are for the faithfulness of people’s support. It is an amazing privilege to have people who you don’t know genuinely pray for you regularly. It never really ceased to amaze us how faithful people are in prayer and support and financial giving. They’re just incredible. So we just want to thank people for that, really, genuinely from the bottom of our hearts and ask that they will continue to pray for the work and for our colleagues and for BMS.

Two couples cutting a cake

Thank you so much for supporting the Darbys and the Ovendens during their time serving with BMS. If you want to continue supporting and praying for BMS-supported work in Uganda, why not start by signing up to support BMS workers Benon Kayanja  and Genesis Acaye as a 24:7 Partner!

Liked this story? Click here!
icon

The Power of Play

The Power of Play

I could have spoken with them for hours. Creative therapy is making a difference across the world, from Lebanon to Mozambique, Uganda to Thailand, and although each context is different, with every BMS World Mission worker and partner I spoke to, I discovered the same thing: children who have been through unimaginable pain. And how you’re making new ways of healing possible.

She sat in the corner and stared at the wall in her first session. Fatimé was completely disengaged from the world before she started music therapy. Her epilepsy medication makes it difficult for her to stay awake for a whole session, but at least it stops the fitting. BMS music therapist Bethan Shrubsole has been working with Fatimé for seven months. She’s made real progress since the beginning: now she can look directly at her family.

For the uninitiated, music and play therapies might seem like a modern fad, only available to those in the West, and involving expensive, luxury items like sensory toys. But by speaking to BMS therapists from Chad (where Bethan works with Fatimé) to Thailand (where Judy Cook works with Sam), I’m finding the truth is much more encouraging.

Thousands of miles away, lives a little boy whose experiences are very similar to Fatimé’s. Sam is blind and has epilepsy. He also has a brain condition similar to cerebral palsy. He’s been at Hope Home for almost all his life, where BMS worker Judy Cook can give him the support he needs. He’s non-verbal and doesn’t know how to play with the other children. But he likes feeling different textures in his physical therapy sessions, he likes laying on his mat and making scratchy sounds with his fingers. And he loves music. More specifically, he loves The Beatles.

A boy with severe disabilities receives therapy.
Music makes Sam's physical therapy so much more effective.

“He’s quite hard to calm down sometimes,” says BMS worker Judy Cook, who founded Hope Home. “But music has always helped.” And for a boy with wild emotions like Sam’s, who can sometimes get so cross he hits himself, keeping calm is an incredibly important part of his therapy. “We put Hey Jude on and it was like a switch went on in his head,” Judy says. The music makes him smile and laugh, and stops him screaming. Playing Hey Jude isn’t going to cure Sam of his epilepsy, but, along with the other therapies Judy and her team are giving to Sam and the other children under her care, it is already making his life better.

A sensory playground helps support trauma victims in Lebanon.
Play therapy is helping children recover after the devastating blast in Beirut earlier this year.

And it’s not only children with additional needs like Sam and Fatimé who can benefit from creative therapies. BMS partner the Lebanese Society for Educational and Social Development (LSESD) has been helping children in Beirut in the aftermath of the devastating blast that rocked the city earlier this year. Many of Lebanon’s children have never experienced trauma like this before and don’t have the coping mechanisms to deal with it. So LSESD has started with one of the basics: play.

Daniella Daou and her team at LSESD have set up a sensory playground for children in Beirut, with stimulating play stations, art and storytelling spaces. “The point of the playground is for children to have fun, to de-stress and to express what they’re feeling,” says Daniella. They also have a psychologist present who watches the children’s behaviour and looks at their artwork to see if they’re showing signs of trauma. And the playground isn’t only there to help the children, it’s there to give respite to their parents.

They can take a break while their children play, and can speak to the on-site psychologist to see how their children are coping. Giving their children the opportunity to play in the face of such a tragedy is a key part of their healing process.

Play therapy can also help parents and children to bond and to express love and care in a beautiful way. BMS speech therapist Lois Ovenden tells a story of a mother and son who came to a play therapy session she was running in a clinic in Uganda a few years ago. The boy’s condition was too severe for Lois to give him all the help he needed. “He couldn’t walk, he couldn’t see,” says Lois. “He couldn’t have been more than two.” But for one session, Lois showed his mother some play therapy techniques she could use to interact with her son. “It was so beautiful watching them together,” she says. “The incredible love she had for her child – it almost filled the room.”

A child receiving play therapy Uganda
Lois Ovenden was able to show parents in Uganda how play could help them bond with their children.

Lois only showed the mother some simple techniques, like how touching her son’s face and letting him feel different textures could establish a connection and help him experience fun and beauty. Small things. But they made the boy smile and he started to make soft cooing noises. Lois could tell that he knew his mother, how much he loved her. The beautiful bond they shared, expressed in the only way he could.

Many other parents were sceptical though. They thought that play therapy was only available to those who could afford expensive western toys. But according to BMS play therapist Liz Vilela serving in Mozambique, the opposite is true.

“The best way to connect with a child is for them to use what they’re used to,” says Liz. And BMS therapists are showing this across the world. In Uganda, Lois encouraged parents to make toys out of banana leaves so they can play together with their children. In Chad, Bethan uses an Arabic song in her sessions with Fatimé, because it’s the language her family uses, and it’s what she engages with the most. Meeting people where they are helps families build stronger relationships and it makes creative therapies accessible to so many more people.

A child in Chad receiving music therapy
For children like Fatimé and Mohammed (pictured), Bethan's music therapy sessions have made a real difference.

Talking to Lois, Judy and Liz, I was constantly reminded of Fatimé. A child disengaged from the world, brought to a fuller life through music and play. Before she started therapy, she did nothing but sit in the corner, separate from everyone around her. But after seven months of sessions, she can now look at her siblings. She claps along to songs. They’re small steps, but for Fatimé and her family, they mean hope. I ask Bethan about her hopes for Fatimé. How would she like to see her progress? “I want her to be able to say ‘Mama’,” she says. For Fatimé, that’s a huge ask. But for a mother to hear her little girl say ‘Mama’ for the first time? That makes all the effort worth it.

Support children across the world Click here
icon

Words by Laura Durrant

I am Innocent

I am Innocent and they wanted me to die.

At the hospital they called me a “waste of oxygen” and chased my mum away. I had been into the ICU 19 times. I am Innocent. I have Down Syndrome. I am a God Plan. My mum tells me I am a God Plan.

I am Innocent and my father disowned me. Told my mum to “throw” me. To abandon me, in Gulu in Uganda, where we live. I am Innocent, I get infections easily, I took a long time to walk, a longer time to eat or drink than other children. I am different.

My grandma said that I look different, called me abnormal. Asked my mum to throw me. Her family disowned me. I like to dance. I am five years old. I am Innocent.

I am Innocent and while I did not, could not, write these words, I’m important too.

INNOCENT IS NOT ALONE.

Innocent has friends. There’s Misheal, five years old, who cannot take herself to the toilet, and Viola, whose neighbours wouldn’t pick her up or let her play with other children because they thought that Down Syndrome was contagious. There are many other children like Innocent, who are beautiful and friendly and joyful and kind, and who have been rejected by family and neighbours and society. Whose parents have suffered depression and financial hardship because people around them have not understood what Down Syndrome is.

“I’ve done a lot of the diagnosis,” says Lois Ovenden, a BMS World Mission worker based in Gulu. “People notice that there is something not typical, but they won’t know what it is. And sometimes doctors won’t give the diagnosis, even if they know it.” You can understand why. In Uganda, as in many countries, there is a stigma attached to disability, and reactions range from fear and disdain to blame. And there are practical problems too. Care is time-consuming and expensive. The children themselves can be challenging, as every one of their mums can testify.

A Ugandan girl with Down Syndrome stands in a field with her mother and younger sister.
Misheal’s family came to accept her after understanding her diagnosis.

THE STORY SO FAR

Good news for parents of children like Innocent doesn’t just happen. It needs a ‘how’.

IN THE BEGINNING

Lois, a BMS speech therapist, started a group in September 2017 when she realised that many of the mothers she was meeting had not understood (or even received) a diagnosis of Down Syndrome for their children. They felt isolated and confused and so Lois brought them together to talk, share wisdom and dispel myths. Many felt amazing relief at knowing they were not alone.

GLAD TIDINGS

In March 2019, Lois organised a gathering of the Gulu Down Syndrome group for World Down Syndrome Day. Mums shared their stories, appeared on a video and gathered to talk to people in the community about what Down Syndrome is and the gift from God that these children are. A local radio and TV station picked up the story and spread the word even further.

GO INTO ALL THE WORLD

Radio and TV exposure meant that more people heard the message of hope offered to parents facing stigma, pressure from unsympathetic families and the challenge of taking care of children with special needs. A new group is hoping to start up-country as a result.
These parents were given the chance to help each other and themselves because of you. Your support for BMS makes work like this possible. If Innocent is ‘why’ we do what we do, you are the ‘how’.
Thank you for being our how.

Lois has met so many mums because their children had developmental problems. She’s a speech and language therapist working in a local clinic, and children like Innocent and Misheal and Viola will be brought to her because they have not yet been able to speak. And it’s Lois who has broken the news to their parents.

“Sometimes doctors have told people that there’s nothing to worry about, that their children will catch up,” she says. “The fact is, these children can learn. But they do need the support and input.”

That’s why Lois started the Gulu Down Syndrome group. To share knowledge, to connect parents with a local school that integrates children with special needs into its classes so they’re not excluded. To let parents know they are not alone. “These are passionate mothers who are devoted and loving in the face of discrimination and persecution,” says Lois. “They love with a fierce and unconditional love that tells the world that their children are a gift not a curse, that their children matter and they won’t abandon them, however tough it is.” They are her inspiration. They are each other’s lifeline. And they have grown in love and support.

You can help.

October is Down Syndrome Awareness Month, and Down Syndrome Awareness Week UK is in March. While we give thanks that many children with Down Syndrome around the world are getting the support they need, the world’s poorest and most marginalised parents are struggling to help their precious daughters and sons. That’s why groups like the one Lois started are so important. To help parents help each other and help themselves.

You can support the work Lois does every month by becoming a 24:7 Partner with BMS.

Visit our 24:7 Partners page to set up a direct debit that could focus on Lois’ work or provide support where the need is greatest. And if you already give regularly, thank you for making work like this possible!

Innocent’s mum is called Alice. She’s part of the group. She says that what she most wants other people to understand is that she didn’t choose this. And that she accepts her little boy, as all mothers do: as a gift from the Lord. She wants them to understand that Innocent is not infectious. That he is God-given. Precious. Innocent.

“Down Syndrome is not a disease,” Alice says. “It is a God Plan.”
The message Alice has received from the Gulu group and from Lois is one that empowers mothers to help each other: with knowledge, with support and with a Christian message of love. And it’s working. Spreading. More mums with more knowledge, more support, and more hope. More to say. There are things they want you to know.

A Ugandan girl with Down Syndrome stands in a field with her mother.
Viola’s family wanted her to die. Her mum Lucy’s response? “Love your child.”

Misheal’s mum, Mary, wants you to know that Misheal is normal. Viola’s mum, Lucy, wants you to know that she is proud of Viola. And Alice wants to tell you that she loves Innocent.

“It was God’s plan to give me this child,” she says. “That’s why I have my son, and I love him.”

Lois’ hope is that, with more awareness and provision, children with Down Syndrome in Gulu and beyond will be able to realise their potential and be welcomed and valued members of society. “Our hope is that families will know the blessing these children can be,” she says. “Working with them is a huge privilege.”

And as the message spreads, more people are feeling that privilege. Following a World Down Syndrome Day event that Lois and the group organised in March comes the news that another group might be set up further north. And this group, by God’s grace, will need Lois less and less, as the mums learn to rely on each other and as the community continues to be transformed by the mustard seed of their faith, their hope, and their love for their children.

I AM INNOCENT.

I am not a mistake. I am not diseased. I am made in the image of God. I am a person and I have joys and loves and quirks and funny little habits. I have a mum who loves me. I have friends to play with under the mango tree. I have trouble speaking and I did not write this but I have help. We have help. We have the children and the mums, we have Lois and the doctors, we have a chance to learn and to grow to do something with our lives.

We want you to see us. We want you to see us as you see yourself. We want you to see the God Plan.

A five-year-old Ugandan boy with Down Syndrome stands in a field holding a yellow balloon over his face.
Like this story? Click here!
icon

This story was originally published in Engage, BMS World Mission’s flagship magazine. Subscribe today to receive inspirational stories of BMS work, just like Innocent’s stories, straight to your door, three times a year!

Made in God’s image

Made in God’s image:

celebrating World Down Syndrome Day

Mothers in Gulu, Uganda gathered together on 21 March 2019 to celebrate their children and tell their stories. Stories of raising children made in God’s image. Stories of raising children with Down Syndrome.

It was a party with a purpose. Eight mothers arrived at St. Philip’s Health Centre, Gulu, and stepped into a room strung with blue and yellow bunting, photos of their children displayed on each wall. A beautiful piped cake waited on the table. As the children began to mingle and play, and guests arrived, a ribbon was handed to each person. Its colours matched the bunting on the walls: blue and yellow for World Down Syndrome Day.

A woman wearing a blue t-shirt for World Down Syndrome Day pins a ribbon to the t-shirt of another woman.
Party-goers wore blue and yellow ribbons to raise awareness of World Down Syndrome Day.

Finding themselves part of a worldwide celebration came as a surprise to mothers like Alice, Lucy and Everlyn. After all – they had been so used to handling everything on their own. Before they joined a support group led by BMS World Mission worker Lois Ovenden, each of these mothers had felt adrift – left to care for their child’s particular needs alone.

Even medical professionals had struggled to identify these needs, let alone explain them clearly to each mother. Rocked by rumours, misinformation and worry as their children grew, it was testament to the strength of each woman that they’d made it to the celebration thrown by the group. They had come because of their conviction that there was so much to celebrate.

A woman in a blue t-shirt holds out her hands to catch her young son.
Alice holds out her hands to catch her five-year-old son, Innocent.

In many parts of Uganda, Down Syndrome isn’t widely understood. Doctors are reluctant to identify it, as diagnostic tests aren’t generally available. Medical professionals refusing life-saving treatment for babies with Down Syndrome is not uncommon. Many mothers have to fight for their children’s safety and well-being. It can be a lonely calling.

A man in a blue t-shirt smiles and takes care of a young boy with Down Syndrome.
Some parents are told their children will never be able to read, write or have a job.

Videos of the mothers telling their stories played around the room, alongside videos of parents from across the world. Speech and language therapist Isaac Ojok invited Vision TV and radio station Mega FM to the event, and members of a local church arrived too. It was a courageous choice for the mothers, to celebrate something with family and friends that they had been told to keep hidden. And the presence of local media gave them confidence that their stories were something they could share with the world.

A group of mothers in blue t-shirts stand around a white cake and prepare to cut it.
Mothers of children with Down Syndrome came together for the first time in the BMS-led support group

The party on 21 March was a special day, but it was just one day in BMS worker Lois Ovenden’s ongoing-work, serving as a speech and language therapist and running the support group in Gulu. The mothers at the party also returned home to busy weeks, looking after their children as they juggle work, home and family life.

But each time the support group meets, the mothers grow in confidence. They tackle misconceptions about their children and encourage each other. And they feel part of a bigger story – one that your support has connected them to. One being told all over the globe for World Down Syndrome Day.

Don’t miss out on hearing more from these amazing mothers when we catch up with them for World Down Syndrome month in October. Sign up to Engage magazine today.

Like this story? Click here!
icon