By Tom Jarvis
In May, retired Judge Susan Carbon traveled to one of the most remote regions of western Uganda to speak on issues of domestic violence, sexual assault, child marriage, and teen pregnancy – topics that remain shrouded in stigma in many communities there. What she encountered was staggering need, extraordinary resilience, and a desire for change.
Judge Carbon joined a team led by retired nurse Sandy Fisher, whose long-standing work in the Kasese District has focused on improving maternal health and keeping teen mothers in school. Coincidentally, also joining the team was another retired nurse, Jane Britain, wife of New Hampshire attorney Tim Britain. Over the course of a week, the team conducted prenatal and postnatal clinics, distributed menstrual cups, provided contraceptive implants, ran a dental clinic, and facilitated community education. They also served a meal of rice, vegetables, watermelon, and milk to more than 900 children.
Judge Carbon’s role was to provide legal education. She delivered trainings to community leaders, parents, and teens on topics ranging from sexual consent to domestic abuse.
“This was a first, tiny step, like dipping a toe in the ocean,” she says.
The Scale of the Problem
Uganda faces some of the highest rates of gender-based violence in the world. According to UN-backed surveys, 95 percent of Ugandan women and girls aged 15 years or older report having experienced physical or sexual violence. More than half have experienced sexual violence as children, and 80 percent of pregnant teens were sexually assaulted by relatives or family friends.
“It’s a very gendered society,” Judge Carbon explains. “Girls are expected to raise children, farm, and take care of the home. Their value is not seen in education. And yet here we’ve got teen moms, including some impregnated by their fathers when they were 12, who are single-handedly raising children and need an income. They’ll be destitute if they’re just doing menial labor.”
One of the major obstacles Judge Carbon addressed was child marriage, a practice still prevalent despite Uganda’s official legal age of consent being 18.
“We’re talking about marrying girls off at 14, 15, 16 years old,” she says.
The practice is often economically driven. Families receive a bride price – usually livestock and cash – in exchange for their daughters’ hand in marriage. The transactions are so normalized, Judge Carbon says, that most people haven’t paused to consider what they really mean.
“You’re basically selling the girl to the husband for X value – what does that say about how we treat women?” she says. “In fact, they are selling their daughter to be raped because at 15, you legally cannot consent. These marriages are arranged by fathers and brothers. They are not by choice.”
Convincing parents and community leaders to rethink these norms is no small task.
“It’s a real mind shift to think that something that has been accepted for so long could actually change,” she says.
Shifting Cultural Norms
Judge Carbon’s presentations to nearly 300 teen boys and girls – none of whom had ever seen a PowerPoint presentation – elicited a range of reactions, from stunned silence to outright laughter.
At one point, she told the group that if a boy gets a girl pregnant, he should take responsibility for supporting her and the child.
“The girls broke out in uproarious laughter,” she says. “The idea that a boy would be expected to support a girl he got pregnant – it was unthinkable to them. They just thought, ‘Golly, not in our lifetimes; that’s never going to happen.’”
It was one of many moments that illustrated the steep cultural hill Judge Carbon and her team were trying to climb. This sense of entitlement – that boys can take what they want without consequence – is deeply ingrained, Judge Carbon says.
To encourage open dialogue, teens were invited to submit anonymous written questions. In response, one boy wrote: “What am I supposed to do, then, when I ‘need it’?”
Judge Carbon was bracing herself to answer when a male community leader jumped in without hesitation.
“Find something to do,” he said. “Taking a girl is not the answer to your needing it.”
She was glad the boy had asked, even if the question was troubling.
“It got the issue on the table for everybody and set the stage for a very powerful conversation challenging conventional norms,” she says.
Her presentation to parents was attended largely by mothers who had themselves experienced arranged marriages and unplanned pregnancies.
Thankfully, Judge Carbon says, the men who attended spoke passionately about the need for change.
A Legal System in Name Only
Uganda does have laws on the books addressing domestic violence and the legal age of consent, but in many remote villages, those laws are unknown or ignored.
“They haven’t heard of protection orders,” says Judge Carbon. “They have no idea where to turn for help. When you think back to the way our country was not that long ago – when women had no rights, no independence – it’s like that, but with even fewer resources.”
She was joined in her efforts by a group of local attorneys funded by the UN, village leaders, and law enforcement officers – marking the first time that legal professionals had participated in such a wide-ranging community event. Their presence helped reinforce the message that violence should not be tolerated and that survivors have rights, even in the absence of meaningful infrastructure to support those rights.
But the cultural and institutional barriers are high.
Judge Carbon spoke privately with several girls, but but says two in particular left a lasting impression. Both had been gang raped by schoolmates while walking home from gathering firewood on the mountain hillside. In both cases, the perpetrators returned to school without consequence.
Meanwhile, both girls were expelled because of education policies that force pregnant girls to drop out and restart the academic year, says Judge Carbon. Not surprisingly, once expelled, most pregnant girls cannot afford to return to school. Parents prioritize education for their sons.
The trauma of the experience doesn’t end with the assault.
“The girls are now blighted…as if somehow they are responsible for this,” she says. “Their pregnancies bring shame to the family, even when caused by family members. Many of the girls are viewed as ‘tainted’ simply because they had been assaulted, stigmatized, blamed, and ultimately abandoned.”
Judge Carbon continues: “It is heartbreaking. It’s gut-wrenching. My God, your heart just bleeds for what these girls are going through – and they have nowhere to turn.”
While so many of the girls are rejected by their families and left to fend for themselves, Judge Carbon was pleased to learn that at least some of the girls she met were able to return home after being assaulted, and had parents who very much wanted them to attend school.
Sadly, the reality is that with school fees as high as they are, few can afford it, and girls’ education continues to be subordinate to boys’ education.
Unexpected Generosity
Despite the challenges, the community’s warmth and generosity left a lasting impression. On one of her final days in the village, Judge Carbon was able to meet the teen girl, Medrine, whom she has been sponsoring for several years, along with Medrine’s daughter and parents. They wanted to thank Judge Carbon in person and give her a gift.
“We walked about a half hour down a rocky, muddy, dirt road into a forested area and crossed a narrow wooden footbridge over a stream before arriving at her house,” says Judge Carbon. “The parents came out with this beautiful handmade basket. I was so touched. Medrine’s mother was also holding a chicken, which I assumed she was going to cook for dinner.”
But that wasn’t the plan.
“She hands the chicken to me, and I was dumbstruck. I didn’t understand what she was doing. Then Medrine explained, ‘This is the present from my parents.’”
Judge Carbon says she was left speechless receiving such a gift from people who have so little.
“It completely caught me off guard,” she says. “Their generosity can’t be quantified. It spoke volumes about their kindness and appreciation for my supporting Medrine’s education. It would have been offensive to refuse.”
Judge Carbon accepted the gifts with gratitude, later giving the chicken to a local driver who was struggling to support his grandmother.
Signs of Hope
Despite the gravity of the issues, Judge Carbon says there were signs of hope – especially in the bonds forming among the girls who attend the clinics. She observed that many of the girls, who came from four different villages, had never met before but quickly formed friendships and began supporting one another.
“They have a sense of camaraderie with other girls who have experienced the same thing,” she says.
Some of those who returned to school after being expelled for pregnancy were continuing on to university, which she says offers hope for others facing similar circumstances.
“They are stronger,” she says. “They have their peers…that whole process gives hope to other girls that their life doesn’t have to end because they got pregnant.”
Judge Carbon also notes that the first shelter for abused women in the region is expected to open soon – a development unrelated to the team’s visit, but one that signals broader momentum.
Asked whether she would return, she doesn’t hesitate.
“I would go back in a heartbeat,” she says. “At the end of the day, when your time is up, if you feel like you did something important – just one thing that mattered – then I think you’ve had a good life. This was important work, and I am so grateful I had the opportunity to participate. This mattered.”