“We used to hide in holes dug up by warthogs and porcupines to escape from Amin’s bombings and his marauding soldiers,” recounts my grandmother of the tragic days of Idi Amin’s regime in Uganda from 1971-1979.
As a young man who came of age in the years following the aftermath of Idi Amin’s dictatorship in Uganda, I have always been skeptical of war and its justification as a means to peace, bearing in mind the costly consequences it leaves behind both on social, economic, and human capital.
My struggle to comprehend the necessity of war, guns, and soldiers came as a result of horror stories narrated by my grandmother of the mistreatment and sometimes torture that not only my family but many families endured in Uganda during Amin’s reign. At a very early age, my grandmother’s stories inculcated in me a fearful outlook on soldiers and guns.
My fears were not abated in 2004 when I arrived in the U.S. for college; a year after “Operation Iraqi Freedom” had been launched. For the next five years, I watched what I expected to be a one-year operation escalate into a full-blown war that would last more than six years.
Like all wars, the Iraqi war reaped physical damage on the country, and, like all wars, the Iraqi war has also inflicted physical, psychological, and emotional damage on the lives of veterans and their families.
However, when I thought about how veterans are treated in my native Uganda and compare that to how veterans are treated in the U.S., I noticed that the public view of veterans could not be more different. In Uganda, especially in the days of Idi Amin, soldiers were “feared and if they came to your door, you were either robbed bare or killed,” my grandmother remembers.
In every U.S. community in which I’ve worked, veterans are hailed, respected, and saluted as heroes to the people. TV ads show soldiers returning home, welcomed by their family members and the community. Politicians, including President Obama, have hailed veterans for their service to the country. Soon I began to notice the value of service and honor that the American public places on veterans, not just as family members or fellow citizens, but as heroes and heroines who sacrifice so much on behalf of their country and their people.
When I began working at Single Stop USA in New York City, I had no idea that at one point in my life I would come in contact or work directly with veterans. Soon after my arrival, Single Stop and the Robin Hood Foundation started The Veterans Initiative, dedicated to helping lift veterans and their families out of poverty by getting them all the support services they need such as housing, health care and jobs. Before I heard President Obama say, “When you take off the uniform we will serve you as well as you have served us because no one who fights for this country should have to fight for a job or a roof over their heads or the care that they need when they come home ” at the 2012 Democratic National Convention, I had been learning how Single Stop was helping veterans by meeting them at their places of need. As I write this, there are over “22 million veterans in the United States and 30% of them struggled at or below 150 % of federal poverty line.” The team at Single Stop is striving to change this, not just getting them healthcare or the housing they need, but also assisting them with finding jobs and other public benefits so they can integrate in society and live productive lives.
When I started my work at Goddard Riverside, one of many Single Stop sites in New York City, I did not think that I would come in contact and later on be serving a 90-year-old veteran of Normandy. My 90 year-old Normandy veteran client was honorably discharged in the early 1940s. He returned home a hero, only now to find himself behind his rent and his medical bills. That is why when he heard of a Single Stop site in the neighborhood he came to us for help. By the time I escorted him to the elevator, we had helped him apply for Senior Citizen Rent Increase Exemption (SCRIE) to stabilize his rent and Medicaid to help cover some of his medications so that he would not pay out of pocket costs.
What struck me most about this gentleman was his gratitude for every single benefit that his caseworker applied for him, even though it is his entitlement. His humility and his positive attitude on life is contagious. I was left wondering, had I fought for this country in Normandy, and gone through the civil rights movements era and seen the U.S. through his lens, would I have his humility? Would I have his positive outlook on life?
Despite my immigration status as a foreign student, I have now found myself saluting veterans when passing through airports or subway stations, thanking them for their service realizing that without their sacrifice, I probably would not enjoy the freedoms I do each day in this country. For this reason, I am grateful to Single Stop for the opportunity to serve veterans and perhaps play a small part in their lives as a token of appreciation for the freedoms and the opportunities this country and its veterans have afforded me.