Latest news and views...

[eNewsletter for Store & Secure self-storage]

Spring has sprung and here's the latest news and tips from your favourite Bournemouth self-storage facility! Click here to read.

SC21 companies now listed

[Online PR for Groveley Precision Engineering]

Groveley applauds SC21’s decision to show information of experienced SC21 suppliers in an A–Z list on its website.

Really helpful for companies looking for an SC21 supplier is the detail showing the level each signatory has reached – bronze, silver or gold.

That allows interested companies to see which suppliers are committed to the SC21 ethos of implementing business excellence, lean principles and continuous improvement… and those companies that are new to the process… and potentially those wearing the badge simply in the hope of gaining new business.

See the downloadable list of SC21 signatories here.

Groveley maintains its SC21 Silver status scores and is currently 100% on time, with a 99.99% quality rating.

eNewsletter

[eNewsletter for Groveley Precision Engineering]

Our latest news... no late deliveries for over three years... project management success... environmental improvements... and more.

Read it here.

Vintage entertainment and fashion show

[Online PR for Store & Secure self-storage]

Join us at our premises on June 9 for a Vintage Night of fun, music and fundraising for Lewis Manning… in collaboration with Real Vintage.

Enjoy a catwalk show of amazing vintage clothing, entertainment, Lindi hop dancers, stalls, bar and raffle.

Tickets are just £7.50 and can be purchased by contacting Lewis Manning fundraising on 01202 708470 or email events@lewis-manning.co.uk

Where are the men?

[Online PR for Uganda slum charity Child of Hope]

Our Income Generating Activities (IGA) scheme is indisputably a high-impact and sustainable method of helping a family lift themselves out of the worst extremes of poverty. But why is it that 95% of parents starting a business with us are mums? Why don’t the dads engage?

To be honest, it’s a bleak picture. Research from around the world shows that when men don't have a job or anything productive to do, it badly affects their view of their male identity. Most men then become hyper-masculine… getting involved with fighting, excessive drinking or promiscuous behaviour. Some men go the opposite way and adopt feminine roles and behaviour.

We see all of this in the Namatala slum. Most work available for men tends to be manual labour… and since the men are in poor health because of the poverty, they find it difficult to do manual work all day. So, typically, a man in Namatala will go to town early in the morning, do two or three hours of manual work and then stop at around 9am. By this time, he will most probably have earned around 2,000 shillings (45p) – enough money to buy alcohol and drink for the rest of the day. This then leads to the fighting, drunkenness and sex.

A new, depressing phenomenon that we have started to see in Namatala is that the men's wives are quite understandably giving up on their husbands. The wives then move out and set up home on their own. Some then take in young men who are quite happy to do nothing but rely on their 'sugar mummies’. It’s not great.

We have tried to work with dads and hold meetings at the school for training them in numeracy, literacy, business skills, etc. However, most men seem disinterested in their future… they have given up. All that seems to interest them is getting the 2,000 shillings in order to pay for their daily alcohol fix to deaden the pain.

As a Christian organisation, we have witnessed that men coming into a faith in God are more likely to escape this desperation, or if they come from slightly wealthier, supportive families (and there aren’t many of those in Namatala). So sadly, it’s a really difficult situation.

In the meantime we continue to regularly start mums in their own business, with full training and support – and the results are amazing. See some of our case studies for examples. If you could provide a parent with a business start-up grant for just £25, please click here.

Picture: One of our IGA dads. He has a small transport business using his bicycle… moving things like sacks of charcoal for his customers.

Get summer sports gear out the house

[Online PR for Store & Secure self-storage]

Ooh, summer’s coming and beach sports are getting going already. Well, great, but don’t let your sports gear become a right pain about the house… when you could store it with us at low-cost!

We know you’ll need it in a hurry – but that’s fine, because we’re open seven days a week and you can always get at your stuff when the sun shines.

We’ll find you a dry, clean room for your surfboards, shortboards, skimboards, minimals, paddle boards, kite boards, sailboards and your wetsuits. Totally secure… ready when you want them. Give us a call!

Surely it matters when slum kids die?

[Online PR for slum charity Child of Hope]

Yesterday Bex was standing by the school gate when two young boys turned up and stared at her through the bars. She asked them what they wanted and they said they’d come to see their brother. She asked who their brother was and they told me “Peter, in P3”.

“And why do you want to see Peter in P3?” she asked.
“Mummy told us to come and get him” the older one said.
“And why does mummy want Peter?” I asked, trying not to get impatient.
“Because our other brother is dead.”
His face started to tremble and tears toppled over on to his cheeks. The younger boy just stood their silently staring at the ground and shuffling his feet.

Bex takes up the story…

It’s amazing how quickly impatience can turn to heart-breaking sympathy. I took them down to our welfare office and asked Pius (one of our social workers) to go and find Peter in P3. I sat the two boys down whilst we waited. I found out that they were brothers aged 13 and 12 (although they looked very small for their age) and that brother number three (aged 11) had died that morning after being admitted to the local hospital for the last month. The older brother wept quietly whilst trying to answer my questions. The younger brother sat in awkward silence, not seeming to know what to do with himself.

Peter (aged 8 but looking much younger) arrived. He took one look at his older brothers and then walked to the corner of the office and stared at the wall. He put one hand on his hip and the other on his face with his back to us. After what seemed like an eternity (but was probably only 15 seconds) I called Peter over and he came and stood next to where I was seated. He kept his hands by his sides whilst silent tears dripped down his face. I figured he’d worked out what had happened but I needed to make sure.

“Peter, do you understand why your brothers are here?”
Peter nodded silently.
“Peter, I’m so sorry but your other brother, who has been in hospital for the last month, has died this morning.”
More silent nodding and tears.
“Mummy has sent your brothers to come and get you, so Uncle Pius is going to walk home with you all. Is that okay?”
Silent nodding.

So after a bit more reassurance and condolences they all shuffled off with Pius. I turned to look at Grace (our welfare manager), and she gave me a gloomy smile and said “That’s so sad.” And then turned around and got on with her work.

All the other staff I told this story today had the exact same reaction: a sad smile, a shrug of the shoulders … and then moved on. And that’s what’s it’s like here. When a child dies, there should be outrage, there should be a sense of injustice, there should be shock, there should be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Not quiet resignation. Not “Oh well”. The air should not be heavy with an unspoken “that’s how it is here”. Now, I don’t blame my staff for having that reaction. You see, they’ve lived surrounded by death their whole lives. I’ve lived here for ten years now and the disconnect between my reaction and those around me is still jarring.

I’m sitting at home and typing this and I can’t get those three boys’ faces out of my head. Surely in this day and age, Africa should expect her children to live, shouldn’t she? And if not, why not? Why should we be able to shrug our shoulders at the death of a child in a developing country? God help us to make this world a fairer place where every community can expect their children to reach adulthood.

Incidentally, the boys’ dad died last year and their mum’s been struggling ever since. She’s around age 30, on our IGA scheme and is bringing up 12 children on her own (eight are hers and four are for someone else). We’re stepping in to help with the burial costs.