Kkalwe school is a lively place! Our approach is on another nameless stretch of red dirt ribbon, textured with deep ruts – reminding us that rain can change the landscape around us. Our driver and friend, Eriab Kawuba, navigates the terrain as best he can but the old Toyota van still bounces and rubs it’s way down the road.  Eriab never spends his english frivolously and this is no exception, he glances at my expectant face as I ride shotgun, and says “Here.”  Looking ahead I see children on either side of the road waving branches and jumping up and down.  As we pull up to the school compound we are ushered out of the van in a sea of brown faces and hands and eyes and smiles.  Paul is the Headmaster of Kkalwe School and he greets us heartily as his face wears a smile so big that it has run out of face.

After exchanging the customarily long greetings that are culturally appropriate in East Africa, we walked over to inspect the 10,000 liter rain collection tank that sat next to the building.  Every Time I see one of these big black behemoths I am always amazed that love can take such a large, awkward shape.  This water project was funded by a small church north of Albany, NY called Rolling Hills Christian Fellowship. There are only a few families in that small community but they were moved by compassion for the children at Kkalwe School and provided the funds to install this tank.  Looking at the installation I noticed that despite the large cement base, the tank was overhanging about a foot on the front edge. I was concerned because the weight of the water can press down on that overhang and cause a stress fracture that can eventually split the tank.

I laughed at the explanation for this  odd placement of the tank.  Apparently the length of downspout that connects the gutters to the tank was too long and Paul does not own a hacksaw to trim it so the tank can be slid back to the center of the base.  The school doesn’t have a hacksaw either among their tools; nor does anyone else in the village of Kkalwe.   The future stability of those students and teachers was resting on a hacksaw.  What could we do  . . . . . .

When the van pulled up to Embryo Foundation School it was mid-morning and the sun was almost finished sweeping away the cool air that lingers over the Ugandan landscape.  Looking up the hill we saw the two rough brick buildings that comprised the school.  Waiting for us at the base of the hill was two columns of sweet smiles and bright eyes.  The students marched us up the slope singing their school song with pride.

Started 12 years ago by husband and wife, Richard and Elizabeth who serve as Director and Head Mistress – this bustling school is alive with learning.  Our arrival has caused a stir and the students piled into a larger classroom to share songs and greetings with the “vistahs frum Ahmereecah”.

The rainwater collection tank was installed 8 months earlier and sits in an odd location – an extension pipe extends from a building and is suspended on poles for about 10 meters befre terminating at the catch basin in the top of the tank.  I asked Richard why the seperation of distance between the tank and the building and he explained that they had constructed a rough mud building to accomodate growing classes and then a storm came and washed the building away.  They now are trying to rebuild on the same site but with bricks.  So eventually, a building will stand in the 10 meter gap and the tank will be fed by the gutters of that structure as well.