Parenting in Uganda is not easy. The challenges are many, ranging from traditional constraints to economic hardships. However, it is the middle-class parent who faces the most difficult struggle—those who are determined to give their child the best shot at success.
For these parents, the desire to shield their children from the struggles of their own lives is strong. They remember a time of hardship and deprivation, and they vow to protect their children from it.
Many middle-class parents look back on their own experiences of walking barefoot to school, fetching water from distant sources, or sharing a crowded house with no privacy. They desire a life for their children that is insulated from these struggles.
They want their children to drive to school, turn on taps inside their bedrooms, and have personal space, including en-suite bathrooms. While these desires are understandable, they raise an important question that many parents have not asked: What connection exists between our past lives and the successes we now enjoy?
Could it be that the hardships we endured helped make us resilient, tenacious, and strong enough to achieve what we have today? The life we are providing for our children, though comfortable, has not been tested in the same way as the life we once lived. What we are trying to shield our children from is, in many cases, what made us who we are. Our struggle, and the lessons it taught us, are the very foundation of our success.
I recall the story of Thomas Tayebwa, who arrived in Kampala in 2001, terrified of the busy streets and the traffic. He was so overwhelmed that he sought refuge at a police station on his way to Makerere University. At the time, I was already working and planning my wedding.
Today, Thomas is the Deputy Speaker of Uganda’s Parliament. His journey from that fearful young man to his current success is a testament to the strength he gained from the challenges he faced.
Will his children, insulated from such experiences, ever develop the same resilience? Will they succeed beyond their father? These are the kinds of questions that highlight the critical impact of parenting models on the trajectory of success.
This conversation about parenting brings me to a topic recently highlighted by Judith Heard, a prominent figure who has opened a conversation about a dangerous social vice—drug and alcohol abuse in high-end bars. Judith’s revelations about a cocktail of drugs being used in combination with alcohol are alarming.
Drugs are often supplied covertly, with handovers happening in offices within bars, and are used to lure young, naïve girls into dangerous situations. While not every young woman seen entering a manager’s office is involved in drugs, Judith’s insights shine a light on a dark side of Kampala that parents must be aware of.
Judith has also shared the tragic reality that many young people, particularly girls, are quietly dying from the combination of drugs and alcohol. In many cases, these deaths are covered up by families who, in their grief, are left with horror, regret, and guilt.
No one wants the world to know their children are involved in such vices, and we all strive to be the perfect parents raising perfect children. But isn’t it time for us to confront this issue head-on?
I want to take this opportunity to thank Judith Heard for speaking out, despite the skeletons in her own past. Her personal experience has fuelled her desire to help save young middle-class girls from falling into the same trap. Judith has never aimed to pass judgment on anyone. Instead, she has felt a burning desire to save others, and this platform was her opportunity to make a difference.
Thank you, Judith. While some choose to bury their heads in the sand, the drug dealers continue to supply harmful substances, and soon, another parent will silently bury their child as a result of an overdose or the deadly combination of drugs and alcohol. It is time to break the silence, and Judith has done just that.