Situational Ethics

Mary represents a short-lived demographic. Girls that resort to prostitution in the desperate attempt to pay their school fees rarely make it to graduation day. One world consumes the other and learning to cope with physical and emotional trauma leaves little energy and eventually concern for essays and math tests. It’s supposed to be a sacrifice for a better life—a means to an end, but too often it just means the end of hope and continues to feed the insidious cycle of AIDS, abuse, and abject poverty. Mary doesn’t know the statistics. She does, however, feel the weight of their truth and wants more than anything to crawl out from under it.

I don’t yet know the specifics of her situation. I don’t know if her mother encouraged her to sell herself or if Mary chose to do it out of love and a loyalty to help her mother financially. Either way, their very real lives have been besieged by the complexities and consequences of having to choose survival over rather obvious moral principles. I can’t help but think back to the situational ethics stances I so fervently debated years ago in college. They are now beyond embarrassing.

The more I do this work, the more I realize my opinions don’t matter much. Mary doesn’t need my opinion. She needs my love and compassion. She doesn’t need someone telling her that prostitution is harmful. She needs a way out of it. She doesn’t need to be told that her mother, whom she loves, is a terrible person for imposing or condoning the only way she knows how to pay for her education. She needs to be told there is a better way and we are the ones that can help her.

It’s not about guilt. Showing you Mary’s tears is not geared to shame you out of your Starbucks. It’s merely to present the perspective that’s as neglected as the fourteen-year-old who owns it. Saving her life doesn’t require hundreds of thousands of dollars. It doesn’t require years of medical research or depend on the passing of heady legislation in order to act on her behalf. So who can we blame? We have the reactions that we do, guilt or otherwise, because her story is raw, candid, and unbiased, but mostly—we’re torn because it’s so punishingly avoidable. Two dollars a day puts the ball back in our court and demands an answer from each of us. Are we really going to let this continue?

Total Attorneys has answered no to that question repeatedly. You’ve answered by way of time, talent, resources, costumes, and facial hair. On the day of that interview, Mary got to see the result of all that for the first time. It was in the form of a beautiful building; one that was home to vulnerable girls just like her. My prayer is that we’ll soon hear the story of how the Total Impact House and its programs therein changed Mary’s life as well, and the only “situational ethics” dilemma she faces is in the form of debate at the university she one day attends.

Meet Florence

Searching for the right tailors was more challenging than I’d expected. We spent an entire day popping in and out of the shops that made up the marketplace labyrinth. Row after row, kids played and women chatted over the tickering hum of their sewing machines. I appointed myself the official headhunter and quality control inspector. The objective: to commission five tailors and then pick one or two based on their final products—a one-size-fits-all wrap skirt and a small, simple handbag.

I’ve hired quite a few people over the years, but strangely this felt more like interviewing a babysitter rather than an employee. I mean that in the best of ways. Finished seams, button holes, and zipper pockets became secondary to discerning whom I’d entrust to teach our precious girls. I was unexpectedly protective, even a bit concerned; that is, until I met Florence. Her gentle disposition eliminated my worries. I thought her sweet temperament would be a perfect asset and I could easily picture her working with the girls at the house.

I asked Florence to make me three wrap skirts, each with a slightly different design. She did a super job. After explaining the POH/TI project, she also agreed to teach our girls the basics of tailoring with the wrap skirts being one of their first real design projects. This is set to commence in the next month or two. Whether Florence will stay on indefinitely or works with the girls just long enough to teach the basics, I don’t know. We’ll have to see what works best for everyone. Regardless, I’m happy that we found her and I’m eager to work alongside her in just a few short weeks.

If you are interested in supporting the girl’s training as well as Florence’s small business, you can order one of her skirts for $35.00.

Sarah's Story

Sarah’s Story


*Sarah was abducted by the Lord's Resistance Army in Northern Uganda while collecting firewood for her family. At the age of 13, she was forced to be a sex slave, or as the LRA euphemistically calls it—a "bride". As Sarah recounted her story, she told me how grieved she was to learn that the soldier she was given to had two other wives. This meant she was guilty of polygamy. She explained how prior to her abduction; she was a virgin and "inexperienced in such wifely duties". The soldier would severely beat her after sex for not pleasing him properly. He once beat her so badly that two other soldiers came to her aid. They told him to be patient and show her what to do rather than beating her. "For this," she said, I was very grateful."

One night, opposing forces opened fire on their camp. During the ensuing chaos Sarah managed to escape and fled into the bush. She was met by another abductee and together they cautiously trekked across Northern Uganda back to Sarah’s home village.

Upon reaching her hut, she discovered her entire family was dead save for the “auntie” that refused to take her back. Sarah was told she was now "ruined" and would bring shame to the family name and community. Looking for a place to sleep, she went into town where a group of teenage girls took her in and fed her for a few days before insisting she start earning her keep.

Starving, rejected, and already “ruined”, Sarah believed her only choice was to sell her body if she wanted to live. After several months of prostitution, she no longer cared to. She swallowed some batteries and a handful of aspirin hoping the amount of acid would be fatal. Thankfully it wasn't.

Sarah met Pauline, a POH counselor, last year and was recently selected to move into The Total Impact House. Every day for the past year she would think, “Unless Pauline tells me it’s all a lie and no one cares about helping us…until then, I will choose to believe someone really is building this home and there’ll be a place for me to go.” When Sarah and I met this past September, I got the chance to tell her how much people do care and how proud I was of her for holding out hope. She is an amazing example of triumph over tragedy and she ended our exchange by saying, "I now see why I wasn't allowed to die."

*Her name has been changed to protect her identity.

A Better Understanding

This is the brothel...not exactly glamorous.



Under what circumstances do 11, 12, 13 year old girls ask someone to pray that they get more clients? How is that even possible? Unlike the red-light districts where girls are often locked in cages, or the children that are abducted and smuggled across international borders at gunpoint, the girls in this Kampala slum sat in front of their brothel rooms seemingly voluntarily. It begs the question, why wouldn’t they do whatever it takes to escape this life-style? They have witnessed the demise of their peers—peers whose small frames encased the internal organs fatally destroyed by clients demanding their money’s worth. To put it plainly, they were literally raped to death. The stories are graphic, sickening and real and the question is only answered with more questions. “Where are we to go? What else are we to do?” They ask. Most of them have been forced out by a guardian and are not allowed to return home unless they have money to contribute to the household. So, how can we, as individuals and a collective body, wrap our western, middle-class brains around this global enigma, and more importantly, what can we do about it?

Because there’s an ever-increasing demand for younger and younger girls, there is a supply, and the recompense for supplying the demand is often living one more day. This is something I attempt to grasp, but simply cannot fully. What I was able to see, even through their sadness and dejection, were girls like my own daughters who possess great ideas, creativity, gifts and talents, hopes and dreams—only these girls just don’t happen to know it yet. I saw glimpses of this as they rolled strips of paper into beads then proudly showed me their designs. It is all they have right now, but it’s a start. I mean that literally. Many of them have never even left the slums. They have no comprehension of a life outside of what they see, know and do. There are no words for how humbling it was to sit with a group of girls and women that devoured the opportunity to learn such a basic skill—one that most of us would complain about doing after a good five minutes or so. They sit for hours talking, honing their new craft, gratefully eating the meal provided for them before getting up to sit in front of their room waiting for the evening’s clients.

It’s so fundamental that it’s easy to dismiss - it's just paper necklaces. Yeah, they are cool, but will buying a few alter the course of your life? No, it won’t, but it can someone else’s. These girls don’t require multi-million dollar programs, just a chance to earn some money, get medical treatment and go back to school. As I was writing this, I heard my phone ding notifying me of an email. I just checked it and it’s from Robinah. She writes: “Your visit to Uganda touched our hearts and the girls were so blessed to have you visit them in the slum and the time you spent with us really touched many other lives.” Clearly, my presence represented all of our efforts. I just happened to be the one that was there physically. What we do has profound affects on their vulnerable lives. It’s really rather overwhelming. I promise you - it all matters, what we contribute, and on behalf of POH and the girls we serve...an incredibly sincere thank you!

Celebration Day!

POH's Total Impact House

Jewelry Like No Other...

Jewelry making is one of the income generating skills we’ll be offering the girls at the Total Impact Home. A group of girls we support in Kampala began making beaded necklaces just this summer. Prior to that, POH has been purchasing these hand-made, beaded necklaces from Janet, a dear woman living in Gulu.

One of our goals is to help the girls earn a professional wage and eventually start their own legal cooperative to manage their jewelry business. It will provide training on how to control their personal finances for long-term success; including budgeting, savings, entrepreneurship, and microfinance. Helping them market their jewelry is just one more way we can promote their success.

Here’s how they are made…