A rash of theft

In the course of the past week, unoccupied houses or buildings owned by the mission have been broken into three times. The first was Sunday night, when an empty house had the lock cut and some mattresses, bedsheets, and spoons were stolen. There was more stuff by the door, but it seems as though the commotion of us getting up to watch the superbowl next-door frightened off the thieves. Then next time it was a storehouse. Then, two nights ago, there was a seemingly well-coordinated attack that involved breaking into no less than 6 storehouses and offices and the community center and houses. These places included a school for the deaf, a literacy office that is working to record Lubwisi in writing and teach people to read and write in their own tounge, and the BundiNutrition office. Somehow, the soldiers who are always hanging around didn't see or hear anything. Among the things stolen, a motorcylce used for nutrition outreach programs (the one I was going to be using a lot) stands out in valuve, although we're trying to assess what was taken from the literacy and translation offices, since computers or other work from those that were destroyed could represent years of work. It's a discouraging time, to say the least. We'd appreciate your prayers.

At first, I could convince myself that this was just desperation. School fees are due, food prices are 80% higher than this time last year, and someone was simply resorting to theft to provide. But after seeing how persistant and coordinated these are, it seems like more than just desperation, it seems like malice. This turn of events is hard for me for a number of reasons. First and most obvious, crime is scary and it makes me feel less safe. While I'm reassured by the fact that no one is trying to break in to occupied houses, this spate of theft makes everyone a little more nervous. Next, it's discouraging. The things that were stolen were all being used for good purposes, all being used to help people in various ways - nutrition outreach for malnourished kids and their families, teaching people to reach the own language, educating deaf children, etc. It's hard because it makes me feel like our work is being rejected by the community. It makes me feel not wanted here. Now, I understand that there are legitimately people here who don't like us just because we're outsiders, but I also know that these are a small minority. In any event, it's discouraging. And third, it makes me think a lot about how we relate to the community. I like the idea of not separating myself from the community (this is probably largely because I'm new here and haven't yet been driven to the edge by the constant flow of people at my door) - I don't like the idea of guards and soldiers and barbed wire, which seem hostile and could be an impediment to relating to the community. But, when things like this happen, it's hard to think of what else we can do. It's as though our hand is being forced, requiring us to take those measures just to preserve the work we're doing and enable us to be here. So, all of this theft is difficult not just because stuff is being taken, but because it has wider implications for the way that we live here and relate to the community.