Pepperdine Global Justice Program

Just a Quick Note

by Jay Milbrandt

Today was a rather busy day.  I spent most of the morning at Immigration trying to get my multiple entry visa.  It only took a few seconds because I had a special note from the court, but the immigration officials were in really long meetings all morning, so it did not get finished until the afternoon.  

Late in the afternoon, we met with the Chief Justice.  We had a great conversation with him and he is a very interesting fellow.  I hope we can have him to Pepperdine soon!

Tomorrow will be even busier!  I need to run out to the IJM offices, then we are touring the prison, then I have to pick up my Passport at Immigration, then we have to tour the speaking venue, then visiting with Justice Lugaiyizi, then picking up the Starrs at Entebbe!  Whew!  Not sure if I'll get a post off tomorrow or not.  We will see!

All Good Things

by Jay Milbrandt

Today was a good day here in Kampala. I spent most of the day with the team and in the courts. I started the morning by visiting our good friend Justice Kiryabwire at his office in the beautiful new Commercial Court Building. The facility is really a big step up. I got a wonderful update from him on the progress of our team, current projects, and the unfolding events of the week. It sounds like this year’s team has been very well received by the court and they are working on many diverse and useful projects.

Following this visit, Justice K and I went over to the High Court building to visit some of the other judges. I met Justice Egonda and Principal Judge Ogoola. I had never met either in person, but both judges are very well known and respected—both here in Uganda and internationally. Justice Egonda is leaving his position in Uganda to become the Chief Justice of the Seychelles (beautiful islands in the Indian Ocean)!!! I told him I would be his law clerk there if he needed anyone!!!

Justice K and I were also making personal visits to plug and reaffirm Dean Starr’s speaking event on Friday. It seems as though many of the judges are eagerly anticipating his arrival! The concept of a social gathering for the judges is something that is really pushing the boundaries here and could help increase camaraderie amongst the judges. We hope this might be the first of an annual event.

Otherwise, the internship projects are going well. Justice K has students in the commercial court working on various research projects regarding civil procedure and improvements to judicial efficiency. The students in the court of appeals (constitutional court) are making recommendations to the judges on whether appeal should be granted in various cases—primarily criminal in nature. In the criminal court, they are hearing a number of criminal cases and carrying the torch further on plea bargaining project. It sounds like they will make another presentation about plea bargaining this summer and the structure could be implemented in Uganda very soon. Finally, in the Supreme Court, our student has been working on a number of opinions and making court visits in Western Uganda with the Chief Justice. Overall, things are going well and the program is healthy.

Yesterday afternoon, I walked around Kampala’s matatu (minibus) park. It’s probably my favorite Ugandan experience in Kampala—very very different than any other place I’ve been anywhere and I’m the only “muzungu” (white person) in sight. Later, I met up with Patrick again and we walked around Makarere University and visited Roy—a friend of Patrick’s who I also met at the IJM Prayer gathering when I was here a couple years ago. Both are wonderful guys. It was fun to talk with them for a while and see some of Kampala’s back roads through the eyes of locals.

Back in Kampala

by Jay Milbrandt

It's good to be back in Kampala.  Though my last visit was relatively short, being back in Kampala does bring a rush of some good memories.  I'm sitting in Cafe Pap right now, a regular hangout and good place for Internet.  It gives me flash backs to running around Kampala with Kevin Assemi and Kyle (Cox) Bagley--this is where we would break and regroup between meetings.  I rode a "boda boda" over here--a motorcyle taxi and the common method of quick transportation through Kampala's busy city streets.

Last night after arriving in Kampala, I made my way to "Hotel City Square"--a simple, inexpensive hotel hotel where some of our team members are staying.  After that, I met up with my friend, Patrick, who I met on our last trip here.  Patrick was a student at Makerere University and served as President of the IJM Chapter there.  We've kept in touch sporadically over the last year-and-a-half, so it was good to see him and grab dinner with someone.

This morning I got up and walked around looking for a church.  I found "Calvary Chapel" just around the corner and walked in for the 8:15 a.m. service.  This brings me back to Cafe Pap where I came looking for an early lunch and internet.

This afternoon, I'm hoping to catch up with another friend I met last time.  He started a social entrepreneurship project manufacturing beaded necklaces by the Acholi people.  If we catch up this afternoon, I will be great to see his operation.

More to come later!

A Night in Dubai

Thus begins this summer’s travel adventure to Uganda and Rwanda. I’m on my way to Uganda to serve as advance crew for Dean Starr, Mrs. Starr, and Colleen Graffy. We will be following up on the internship programs Pepperdine law has there and furthering our collaborative work with the courts. The next two weeks should be interesting!

As of now, I am on a 12-hour layover in Dubai. I arrived via Emirates Airlines, which was quite impressive. A long 16-hour flight, but a smooth ride and beautiful plane nonetheless (I woke up in the middle of night to find the ceiling covered in stars—the first flight I’ve been on with a fiber optic faux night sky). The airport was even more impressive—it’s huge with expansive halls. I went through customs and arrived at the hotel around 8 p.m. Sadly, all the night tours start quite a bit earlier, so I could not really see the sights of Dubai tonight. I walked around for about an hour outside and saw a few landmarks from a distance. I might add that it was 95 degrees still at 10 p.m.

In a few minutes, it’s off to Uganda! I will try to get a post up as soon as possible from Kampala—not sure what the internet situation will be next evening.

Life in Kolkata (Calcutta)

For some context, my name is Melissa Dossey, and I'm a 2008 Pepp Law alum, licensed to practice in Texas, and living in India while working with a human rights group that focuses on making public justice systems work for the poor.  My office focuses on forced prostutition.  So, back to my first week in Kolkata (Calcutta).  All week I’ve been seeing the worst scenes I’ve ever seen in my life and I’ve been shocked, certainly, but I didn’t really feel anything.  Last Friday it was as if every bad thing I’ve seen thus far came crashing its way into my head all at once.  My heart was literally broken.

Why?  Because that Thursday I began to process things – it was one of the best and worst experiences of my life, contributing to my meltdown today.  I had the rare and humbling privilege of accompanying girls from a government-run group home on an excursion to the movies and the mall.  Yes, Kolkata has both these things (more than one too!).  These girls were abused, abandoned, orphaned – basically the government had to, for one reason or another, take over their care.  These girls had never been to a mall – or the movies.  We saw Monsters vs. Aliens in IMAX 3D – that was an experience!!  It took some cajoling for the girls to put on the silly 3D glasses, but once they did, they were reaching up and trying to grab whatever image was being flung out at them through the magic of technology.  They were absolutely on the edge of their seats the entire time.  I myself, being jetlagged, slept through a solid ten-minute stretch toward the end, but afterwards I found new energy as I had to help escort 30+ girls who had never even seen an escalator, down three separate escalators.  It was a joyful misadventure and a lesson in trust.  A few girls were brave enough to go it on their own, but they clung to the rail the whole time.  Those who wanted an escort were more willing to look around and enjoy the ride.  I had many trembling hands squeeze mine as I tried to communicate without words (because I don’t speak Hindi or Bengali…yet) the idea of 1…2…3…GO!  They caught on quickly and had a blast.  Their next new experience lined up was eating a melting ice cream cone – let’s just say many napkins bravely gave their lives in aid of this cause.  

But as things here usually go, the bad comes with the good. One little girl begging on the street was the straw that broke my back. I cried more than I have in years. But that night, I talked with people I trust, most especially my mom, and I began to see that it was truly, as someone I work with said as I sat crying my eyes out earlier in the day, an act of faith to not be disheartened by what you see here.  It takes guts to stick by the belief that God loves these people just as much as He does me.  And it takes humility to realize, as Isaiah did, that our minds literally can NOT even comprehend God’s mind.  I’m not supposed to know why these people appear to have nothing and I seem to be blessed with so much.  I’m only called to believe that God is providing for them, for they are vastly more important to him than birds or flowers, something he still takes care of.  The same wise woman at my office said that little girl I saw begging had her own story, and I probably wouldn’t know what that was until we all stand with Jesus at the end of all things.  This is a choice I will have to continually make, day after day, that He is good and I will take Him at His word, that the lack of material possessions doesn’t indicate a lack of love from the Father.

On a more practical note, a local charity here founded by someone who, since her death, has been beatified by the Holy See, has this stance towards beggars: they give them nothing. It might seem harsh, but they have very good reasons for this. First, in most cases, they have a beggar boss who collects whatever the children get from people, so in giving you are supporting organized crime. Also there are ways for people here to get help. And if that stance is good enough for them, it's good enough for me. Of course, you don't ignore them, as that denies them their dignity. So you say no, and then, if they persist, only then do you ignore them. Never ever sacrifice human dignity for your own personal comfort.

Psalm 145 and 146 also give me spiritual comfort when I am struggling with life in this city:

The Lord is merciful and compassionate, slow to get angry and filled with an unfailing love. The Lord is good to everyone. He showers compassion on all his creation… the Lord helps the fallen and lifts those bent beneath their loads. The eyes of all look to you in hope; you give them their food as they need it. When you open your hand, you satisfy the hunger and thirst of every living thing. – excerpts from Psalm 145

Praise the Lord!... He gives justice to the oppressed and food to the hungry. The Lord frees the prisoners. The Lord opens the eyes of the blind. The Lord lifts up those who are weighed down. The Lord cares for the orphans and widows, but he frustrates the plans of the wicked! - excerpts from Psalm 146

Observations About the Supreme Court of Uganda

by Nicole Hutchinson (JD/MPP '12)

Last week I was able to see several hearings that took place in the Supreme Court. Prior to watching the cases I had read most of the case files and was caught up on what the major issues were in the cases. In addition, on some of them I had written a memo to the Chief Justice about what the policy outcomes for ruling for a certain party would be and what I felt the Supreme Court should decide. The Chief Justice told me that he appreciated hearing my perspective on the cases because I had brought up several issues that he had not thought about.

For confidentiality reasons I cannot post details about the individual cases, but I can give a few observations about the workings of the Supreme Court. The current Supreme Court session is dealing with civil appeals, so the cases that we are looking at for the most part deal with contract (mostly business contracts between international corporations) or property issues (which deals a lot with human rights issues because a lot of women get their land stolen by their husband’s family when their husbands die). For civil appeals the Supreme Court is required to have a quorum of five judges to hear cases, whereas for constitutional or election appeals they are required to have seven.

Prior to appearing before the Supreme Court, the parties have the opportunity to file written briefs. The parties are not required to submit written briefs and if they do submit written briefs they are not required to present oral arguments. The decision on whether to submit briefs or give oral arguments appears to be decided by agreement of the parties. One of the most interesting things to me was that the lawyers are often not prepared. One of the lawyers stood up in front of the Supreme Court and said that he had not turned in his brief and would like more time to finish his brief. I was absolutely shocked by this. I can only imagine what Justice Scalia’s (or any of the other justices) reaction would be if a lawyer showed up to the United Supreme Court and said I am sorry but I am not prepared. Some of the justices seemed a little annoyed that they had come to court just to hear that the lawyer was not prepared, but they allowed the lawyer to have the extra time! This example has been relatively representative of the way in which the lawyers in Uganda seem to operate. The other students and I have been continuously surprised by the number of lawyers that are unprepared and ask for more time and those who merely just do not show up because they are not ready. To us it appears to be a complete lack of respect for the judicial system and something that has been very difficult for us to understand. When we have asked our respective judges about the problem they are often surprised and thought that this was a huge problem that all judicial systems face.

As a side project, some of us are doing research on the implementation of a system of sanctions for lawyers that do not come prepared and how this could be implemented in Uganda to help to mitigate the effects of this problem. Uganda has a huge problem with backlog. For instance, one of the cases that came before the Supreme Court has been litigated for well over ten years. The bigger issue is with the criminal cases where people have been accused of a crime, but they are sitting in prison for four or five years before their cases are heard by any judge. These are people who have not been convicted yet, but just suspected of a crime! Uganda does have a system of being innocent until proven guilty and therefore they are essentially keeping people that are presumed innocent in jail until they have a chance to bring them in front of a judge.

There are many reasons for why there is such a problem with backlog. These include the fact that Uganda has a lack of judges and magistrates, particularly in the rural areas, there is a lack of support staff, there is a lack of facilities, there is a lack of lawyers in many parts of the country (in particular public defenders for criminal cases because there is no official system of public defenders and instead they just require lawyers in private practice to serve as public defenders from time to time, like jury duty in the United States), and the fact that trials take such a long time because the parties are unprepared. While the implementation of a system of sanctions will not mitigate all of these problems it will help to address one of the major problems, and in particular the one that the judiciary has the most control over. Another interesting aspect of the Supreme Court is that anyone is allowed to argue in front of the Supreme Court, including the parties themselves. I witnessed a case where the plaintiff got up and gave the oral argument himself. This was very surprising to me since very few people have the opportunity to argue in front of the United States Supreme Court. When I discussed this point with the Chief Justice he was surprised to hear that the average person does not argue in front of the Supreme Court in the United States. I think it was most surprising to me because in the United States so many lawyers would jump at the chance to argue in front of the Supreme Court that by the time the case got that far the parties would have several lawyers offering to represent them and large numbers of special interest groups offering to pay for the legal services. I must say that the person I saw argue in front of the Supreme Court here did do a very good job and was more prepared than many of the lawyers I have seen, even though he did get a little agitated when some of the justices gave him a hard time.

French Fries: The Best Thing Since Common Law

From time to time you'll still wake in the middle of the night (half-naked, swimming in humid air) mystified by your surroundings, briefly - if only briefly - startled and gasping at the sight of a large net trapping you onto your bed. Where am I? And how can it be eighty-degrees at one in the morning?

 

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“Jinja – its on Jinja road. Do you know it?”

 

To use the phrase of my Sudanese friend and fellow law student Moses, I looked “smart” in the grey suit and red tie. British colloquialisms are common in this part of Africa. A Ugandan gentleman asked if I was British – but to his surprise I told him that his ‘British’ was better than mine.

Well Moses, place me, grey suit and all, with backpack, straddling the back of a boda-boda, whipping and twisting between cars and cabs, bouncing at times on the cracked-uneven streets:  Not so smart anymore – but having a ball. Taking lost gravel roads of green-orange at 20, 30 miles per hour for a moment, and back out on the main street. “Oh – ooh. Ah. Eh…[please don’t ram into that car. Oh, can we not slip between the coca-cola truck and the cab turning left? Uh… ok. Let’s just do that then….] two thousand shillings?! No friend, one. I got one thousand for ya.”

 

Not that my able driver would have understood my concerns had I vocalized them:  that’s just how you get from A to B in Kampala.

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A couple weeks ago, we all attended Justice Kiryabwire’s Rotary Club banquet. Wouldn’t you know that I’d have to travel all the way to Africa to experience my first Rotary Club event? Like any banquet, it began with a series of speeches. Don’t get me wrong:  speeches are good. And the work of the club sounds pretty important, and should be talked up. Of course, it was the meal we were after.

Actually, there’s not much to African cuisine – if you can call it that. Arabic, Indian, Ethiopian and Chinese food can be found all around Kampala; but the authentic-African is rather bland. Avoid the posho. Its much like flavorless paste. Go for the chapatti (a kind of doughey-tortilla).

Before leaving, I was told a hundred times how much I’d miss American food after a while. I guess none of my friends have been to Africa. Actually, I have had more opportunities to eat french-fries – chips – in the last few weeks then I typically get in America. Truly, Ugandamust owe a debt of eternal gratitude to mother England for, if nothing else, her gifts of common law and fish & chips (I have to wonder if the Brits brought the posho too).

At the Rotary Club, we enjoyed our most authentic meal of the trip – though it was a combination of Indian and African dishes. We also created a memorable spectacle, as we Mazungas (White people) often do.

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Indeed, it was in classic Mazunga fashion when I, Dan, Marie, Nicole, Ali and Rachel docked our boat at a fishing village in Jinja last weekend. (Well, I should start a bit sooner than this.).

 

Last weekend, the whole group made a trip to Jinja, the adventure capitol of Africa and source of the Nile River. We spent Saturday whitewater rafting. How do I describe it? When we arrived at the dormitory operated by the rafting company (a hostile-like environment buzzing with adventure seeking tourists), there was a breakfast of chippati, coffee, pineapple, honey and toast and a bowl of hard-boiled eggs. We geared up, piled into two large open-vans (forty or fifty of us) and headed off to the river. As we drove through the village excited children came running out to wave and give us thumbs up.

On the river, we rowed, flipped and swirled through the rapids. ‘Right forward, left back; hard forward!’ chanted our trusty guide (well, maybe). In a word, Alex is completely nuts. Indeed, who better to guide you on your first whitewater adventure on the Nile River?   

At lunch we drifted our rafts along the flat river and tasted the best pineapple of our lives while taking in the cleanest air we’ve breathed in Africa (Did I mention Kampala’s gas-guzzling boda-boda’s?). Beer and BBQ against a backdrop of green and verdant flowing onto the river topped-off the evening as my lightly burned skin settled over me.

Suddenly it was midnight. I huddled in back of an open-air truck driven by… well God knows who, along with Mike, Shane, Rose and four or five travelers I had just met rafting, bouncing up and down on half-paved streets in the middle of a remote, lush Ugandan village on my way to drink one-dollar African beer and talk the night away. Life only deals a few moments like this. Rarely does it hand us a weekend full of them.

 

The next day, a few of us boated to the source of the Nile. A long slender motor boat made of wood covered with an awning a bit like the one “African Queen” carried us passed waterfront villages surrounded by greenery and sugar cane. “Incredible” I thought. No, not the source. What was incredible was that it was just a large ripple on the water at the beginning of the Nile River.

For thousands of years, whole civilizations were built and sustained on it – the pyramids rose next to it; Alexander, Caesar and Tutankhamen may have all rinsed their hands in it – and its source is just a twenty-square foot ripple.

 

After leaving the source, our guide docked at a fishing village. Dozens of children surrounded us as soon as we stepped off. They clung to our hands and fought to have their pictures taken. When we showed them their faces on our cameras laughter erupted. When children who have nothing – some lacking shoes; some surely in need of medicine – are jumping for joy just at the chance to see you and get their picture taken, humility creeps on quickly.

 

I can’t imagine the lives they lead; nor can I imagine why the homely site of yours truly caused such a ruckus. They weren’t asking for anything. Some were so young I doubt if they know the poverty they live in. And yet all they wanted was to hold our hands and laugh at us. I’ve never seen anything as true and honest as their smiles.

 

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Details aside, most of the cases I’ve read at the Court of Appeals have involved crimes against children in small villages. I hope for the rest of my time here (and for my life) to have those laughing faces in my mind. It’s their cause that makes the law an honest profession.

-Robert Coleman

The World Turned Upside Down

Location: second story of the Commercial Court in our workroom. Out the window, I see thick, black, billowing smoke rising to the sky not very far from here. We hear loud bangs in the distance. Marie insists that they are gunshots but I don’t believe her. A short while later I am walking down the street. I hear the bangs again, this time closer, and I see a large group of people running away from that direction. I ask a passing woman what is going on. She tells me that there is a riot at Kisekka market. I decide to walk the other way rather than risk getting shot.

Location: rafting down the Nile River. We are closing in on a rapid. Jummah our guide gives us instructions before we head in. “This next one is a Grade 4 rapid called Silverback. It is shallow, so when we flip, keep your feet up so that they don’t get smashed on the rocks.” I ask him “when we flip? No if we flip?” Jummah laughs. We approach the rapid. Jummah yells “hard forward!” We begin paddling with all our strength. Jummah yells “hold on and get down!” We grab on to the rope and kneel inside the raft. The first wave hits and the raft is lifted so that it is perpendicular to the water. Luckily we don’t flip and crash back onto the water. The second wave hits and this time I find myself submerged under water. There is utter confusion. I resurface a few seconds later, cough out the Nile water in my lungs and try to breath. The rapid carries me down the river at a great speed. I catch my breath and I see Mike in the water. He points to the direction of the boat, which is now lying upside down in the water. Jummah flips it and we pull ourselves back in. We continue our 20 mile trip down the river.

Location: small wooden boat on Lake Victoria. We are closing in on a small fishing village across the lake from Jinja. A child on the shore sees our boat approaching and runs towards us. Quickly, more children are gathered at the shore singing “Mzungu! Mzungu!” the local word for “white person”. By the time we reach the shore, over 30 children are waiting there to greet us. They grab our hands and follow us as our guide tells us a bit about the village. We show the children our cameras and they can’t get enough. They pose for pictures and mob you to see themselves on the screen after you take one. I showed them that my camera also takes video and they started pushing each other around trying to be on camera. We got back in the boat to leave and the children all gathered on the shore, waving at us and shouting goodbye.

Location: Luwum Street. Insanity. That is the only word to describe this place. The streets are packed with a ridiculous amount of people. Somehow cars and pedestrians coexist in these narrow streets. At the same time several buildings are under construction along the same street so that work trucks are parked alongside the road. There is a never ending flow of people. Entire buildings, 3 or 4 stories high are devoted to selling T-shirts. You walk inside and there are hundreds of smaller stores inside each of these buildings. The taxi park is also located here. It is a huge pit, several acres in size, full from wall to wall with taxi vans. The taxis are packed so tightly together that I don’t even know how they can maneuver, but somehow they manage.

-Ali

Communication Humor

    I began researching cross-cultural communication during my Straus Dispute Resolution Classes in the spring of 2007.  A National Geographic study, about the human genome project, found that all humans are most likely decedents of one or two people from Africa.  I started to work off of the idea that all humans are genetically the same.  I asked that if there is trouble communicating with different cultures, then how could we communicate on the basic human level?  I started to research humor, and more specifically laughter.  We have all heard about the movie, and true story, about Patch Adams.  The idea being that laughter is healing, calming, and relaxing to people.  Studies have shown that laughter has been developed with our own evolution.  As people began to spread out and meet other cultures around them laughter developed as a way to calm one another and alleviate any initial tension.  Many of us know this through that painful awkward laughter that bursts out of us in new or different situations.  Our bodies will actually react with awkward laughter, often subconsciously, in an attempt to alleviate the stress of the situation. 

    We went to Kampala Comedy Night at the National Theatre this past Thursday.  I had wanted to go since I was curious about the type of humor that is in this area.  Most of the skits that were performed were in Luganda, so that made it a little difficult to understand.  Luckily, I had Justice Kiryabwire sitting behind us.  He patiently, between his own laughter, translated some of the jokes for us.  The stand up that was in English related to taxes, government, and political figures.  This is common for what would occur in the US.  However, the skits took on a different tone.  They dealt with polio vaccines, HIV, bribing of police officers and rape.  I think one would be hard pressed to find that in the US rape is considered to be funny.  Ill admit that the point that they were getting at, one may smile, but in the US we take something like rape very seriously.  Coming to Africa I arrived with an open mind.  I wasn’t offended at the jokes, just saddened. 

     I wonder if making jokes out of serious issues is what takes the tension out of the issue.  In my previous work experience I have noticed that in stressful situations people will make a joke, even if inappropriate, in order to allow them to work further on the project.  In hospitals doctors often have very dark humor about death or disease.  I am curious if it is this humor that allows us to go on and move forward in times that are difficult.  If doctors were unable to find humor in their situation, then I doubt they would be able to continue their line of work.

    Earlier in the week I attended a mediation.  The Plaintiff was a Ugandan who lived in Sweden, and worked in Norway.  While the Defendant was a Danish company that worked in Uganda.  The experience couldn’t have been more international if you tried.  The mediator at the mediation used humor in a very different way than I would have expected.  I realized that in order to use humor in cross-cultural settings you must have an understanding of the culture.  If I had been running the mediation I would have used a very different touch on the jokes that I made, and it is likely that they would not have been successful.   When I write the perfect Ugandan/US cross-cultural joke, I will let you know.

Marie Dominguez-Gasson

Life in Kampala

 Just by reading the headlines of the newspapers that the street vendors are selling you know that things are different here.  “Woman forced to breastfeed dogs” was featured the other day.  A man had given his cow as a dowry for his wife and he couldn’t buy milk to give his dogs so he made his wife breastfeed them. 

  I saw someone giving out parking tickets the other day so I assume that there are traffic laws but they seem to be ignored.  I saw a traffic light at an intersection but it was broken and I think a bird was living in the red light.  The exhaust fumes stream out of the cars in thick puffs of black smoke.  The air is difficult to breathe and I’m surprised that everyone here isn’t dead of lung cancer yet.   The streets are relatively safe.  Guards sit in front of most large buildings wielding AK-47s, shotguns, and various other rifles.  Plus the Ugandans seem to be meek and soft-spoken.  The boda bodas (taxi motorcycles) are the quickest way to travel through the city and taking one is like taking a roller coaster through traffic.  They zigzag between cars, drive on the wrong side of the road and don’t stop for red lights or pedestrians.  The saying here is “if you drive straight on Kampala Road then you are drunk”.  There are so many potholes, people crossing, cars and other obstacles that it is impossible to stay in one lane. 

There are a few interesting things about Ugandan law that I have noticed so far.  They still have debtors’ prisons here which is something the US got rid of a long time ago.  But it is not a separate prison; a debtor is thrown in with ordinary criminals.  But if someone owes you money and you have them thrown in jail, you have to pay for their stay until they pay up.  Since I am working in the Commercial Court, the cases aren’t very interesting.  One of my friends in the Constitutional Court was working on a case where a witchdoctor stabbed someone with a spear and hid in the bush for years until he was caught. The interesting thing for me is that I am seeing firsthand the things we only talked about in college.  Justice Kiryabwire, the judge I am clerking for in the Commercial Court is always talking about how the law is essential to the development of the country because if contracts were not enforced, no one would do business.  Justice K is speaking about the planned privatization of the Ugandan pension system at an international forum and we are currently helping him research the topic. 

I think so far we have been insulated from the level of poverty here.  We are staying in Central Kampala which is a modern, urbanized area similar to any other big city in a developing country.  If you are a foreigner, gangs of young barefoot children in tattered clothing chase after you, with their hands outstretched pleading “sir, sir” trying to get a few shillings.  Children who can’t be more than two years old sit by themselves on the ground with their hands outstretched for hours at a time at nighttime.  There are also people with mangled and disfigured limbs sitting on the streets begging for money.  But other than that, the streets are filled with shops and restaurants and there is a high level of commerce.  But if you walk down a few blocks away from the city center, things are different.  I haven’t had the courage to venture deeply into the ghettos.  The neighborhoods start getting rough.  You start seeing shantytowns with corrugated tin roofs and dirt roads.  Before I leave I plan to go further into the ghettos and see what it is like there. 

- Ali