Sometimes things move at a glacial pace in Gulu. For someone like me, who lives by the belief that good things don’t come to those who wait, but to those who seize them—this can be deeply frustrating. In the Army, we had a saying: “Hurry up, and wait.” It meant moving quickly and decisively, only to end up stuck in limbo, waiting on someone else to act. Whether it’s filling out yet another form or tracking down the right person for a signature, the friction of bureaucracy can grind your momentum to a halt.

I’ve kept that sense of urgency in my civilian life. The speed at which I eat, study, and approach the mundane parts of daily life still hovers somewhere between frantic and breakneck. But this is Africa. TIA—“This is Africa”—as they say (a phrase popularized in Blood Diamond, and one I’ve heard more times than I can count). Things move differently here.

The largest snail I’ve ever seen

On Monday, we scheduled a meeting with a promising new partner for school support: Prudence, the director of a local NGO called Her Worth. Her organization teaches girls to make reusable menstrual pads—even with materials found in the most remote villages. Our meeting was set for 10 a.m. She arrived around 10:30.

Despite the delay, the conversation was productive. Her team had been running workshops in schools on menstruation, hygiene, sexual health, and combating stigma—exactly the kind of support the GDPO wants to expand. By linking her work with local health clinics, we could potentially broaden the program to cover malaria prevention and inclusivity training—both crucial to keeping kids in school.

Of course, we had to talk numbers. Prudence promised to send us a rough budget by the end of the day.

We received it two days later.

Still, it was a start. Her Worth would provide the labor and training; we’d handle materials and transport. We agreed to a one-year pilot at three schools, with a reassessment down the line based on results.

Meetings About Meetings

This road had all the NGO headquarters on it

Incremental headway was also being made with the DEO. We were invited to two working groups that meet monthly, in order to coordinate working with other NGOs, and hopefully to further demonstrate our evaluation tool. Well, almost. Before that, we need to have another preliminary meeting with the DEO, and another official. This tedious impediment worked out anyway, as we had missed the meetings for this month.

Prior to this meeting about future meetings, we met with the local representatives of World Vision and Save the Children…

Or at least we would have. The morning of the meeting, rain was falling. Essentially grinding the city of Gulu to a halt. As I sat alone in the office, being the only one to show up at the normal time, I wondered whether the meeting would be postponed or outright cancelled. My co-workers began trickling in around 11:30 and apparently the meeting was still on.

The meeting took place at 3:30, and although it was incredibly belated, it was fruitful. Our working group collaborators was beginning to take shape.

Starting Slow to Start Strong

On Friday, the team and I met with Victoria, Nighty and Margaret of the Survivors sewing group to discuss the next steps to take. I mentioned the need for a mission statement, business model and plan, targeted market, types of products they could make, sales and growth plan, future sustainability and a tentative two-year budget. They countered with their refrain that they wanted to begin training.

I informed them, I don’t see the money coming until these concerns are addressed. If they’re trying to start a business, they need more than training and hope. I could sense their frustration, as I had become their obstacle they had to hurry up and wait on. Understandably so, but my task was to help establish a business and to give them the best avenue to success that I could muster. Only giving the ladies training would simply not suffice. 

We compromised, by setting up another meeting, with all 7 ladies that wanted to participate, to address the different points I brought up, while discussing the budget needed for their training. 

If this week taught me anything, it’s that progress here doesn’t always arrive on time—but it does arrive. Slowly. Unevenly. Sometimes in half-finished emails or rain-soaked meetings that start six hours late. The work gets done—but not always on my timeline.

Myself, with Joe translating, across from Nighty, Margaret, Emma, and Victoria

Adjusting my watch to Africa time

In the Army, “hurry up and wait” was a source of frustration. Here in Gulu, I’m learning that it’s also a lesson in patience. Because maybe the waiting isn’t a pause in the mission. Maybe it is the mission—forcing us to listen more, assume less, and build trust in a rhythm not our own.

It turns out consistency does exist here. It just wears a different watch.