Read all of my diary entries from the beginning here.

Watch all of the films I made for Comic Relief here.

Friday 9th January 2009

I wonder whether the lovely people at Comic Relief knew exactly what they were doing when they compiled my filming schedule. They knew it was my first trip to the continent and Uganda would confront me with some shocking scenes. That's probably why they left Hajjara's story to the end.

We travel to a slum called Nsambya on the outskirts of the capital Kampala. The dirty, fine dust from the road covers you and permeates everything. There appear to be slightly "better off" families in the area. They have chickens, fences around their little properties and patches of ground on which to grow vegetables.

I thought maybe this wouldn't be so bad. I was wrong. Our vehicle parks up and the crew and I walk down to Hajjara's house. The stench is unbearable under the hot African sun. Flies cover everything. Beautiful, friendly little toddlers follow our every step wanting to touch the "Mzungu" - the white people. Welcoming waves and smiles greet us at every turn.

We are accompanied by a gentle soul called Ivan, a representative from a Comic Relief funded charity called NACWOLA. The organisation was set up to help improve the quality of life of women and their families living with HIV/AIDS in Uganda. Ivan introduces me to Hajjara. At 16 years old she has been robbed of her childhood. At 13 her mother died of Aids and her father left, leaving her to raise her five brothers and sisters. Three of the children are HIV+.

I'm shocked at her surroundings. Her tiny little room, that she makes as comfortable as she can, consists of a small bed and a dresser. A paraffin lamp sits on it but never burns; she can't afford the paraffin.

The youngest child Oruzia lies on the bed in silence but rolls around holding his stomach. He's had a fever and cough all week and now his belly aches. It's at this point that I find myself unable to hold back the tears. I try to be professional as Hajjara is standing right next to me, but it's hard. I step outside to compose myself and the crew
explain that this is the norm here.

It is absolutely heart breaking to see this situation first hand. I've watched the films on Comic Relief, and been moved by them. But seeing it with my own eyes is disturbing. Empty packets of the anti-retroviral drugs, to treat HIV, cover the ground like sick sweet wrappers.

I step inside again and Hajjara tells me her story. She remembers the day they buried her mother and how she returned to their little house and suddenly found herself absolutely alone. She realised she was now responsible for everything. She was 13 years old. Her brothers and sisters were just babies.

We flick through her treasured photo book. The worn images of her mother bring a smile to her face. I actually get a giggle out of her as she shows me baby pictures of herself.

If only I could wrap them all up and bring them home with me. Nacwola has been a saviour for Hajjara and her siblings. Although the Ugandan government freely gives out anti-retroviral drugs to those who register, unless you have a stomach full of food when you take them, you become violently ill and it is difficult to keep them down. The

Nacwola workers do their best to provide some food and ensure Hajjara and her siblings get their much needed medication. They also act as a counselling service. Talking and listening to Hajjara is sometimes all she wants.

Despite the terrible situation I found these young people in, what distressed me more than anything was the lack of hope. There was an emptiness in their eyes unlike anything I've ever seen before. They knew this was their lot and it would take a miracle to change it.

The only glimmer of hope in their lives seemed to be when the Nacwola people arrived. They were like substitute parents, bringing milk, bread and affection. Small amounts  of money keep this organisation afloat and in turn give Hajjara and her family much needed support.

I asked her what she would like to do when she is older. Her reply was "I can't do anything because I cannot leave my brothers and sisters and cannot afford to go to school but I'd really like to be a hairdresser". I tell her anything is possible as I think back to my day with the coffee farmer Oliva. She was in a very similar situation at the same age and look what she's achieved. I pray that the same good fortune, with the help of Comic Relief, will be bestowed upon Hajjara.

A little money can really go a long way. Give what you can this Red Nose Day and you really will be changing lives for the better. Red Nose Day is on Friday 13th March.

 * Read all of Christine's diary entries here

* See a gallery of pictures of Christine in Uganda

* Info on how to donate to Comic Relief

 * View all our pages on Comic Relief, where you can play our doodle quiz, bid on the Comic Relief doodle book auction and watch all our Comic Relief videos.

Read all of my diary entries here.

Watch all of the films I made for Comic Relief here.

Thursday 8th January 2009

I feel really inspired by what I saw yesterday. Oliva's living situation was much better than I'd expected. Beautiful views and wide open spaces. Today will be a very different experience in a village just outside the town of Jinja.

Uganda has been devastated by HIV and many women have been widowed with little or no means of supporting themselves or their children. Santa, the lady I'm about to meet, is one such woman.

Our arrival creates excitement amongst the children. These people are much worse off than Oliva. The children have few clothes and their little noses are running. Their smiles however would melt the stoniest of hearts and they couldn't be more welcoming.

Santa is here to greet us. She's in her late 30s. She's HIV+, a widow and mother of not just her four children but two of her relatives' children as well. They live in a tiny one room house. She is welcoming, kind and caring and wants nothing more than for her children to be fed and educated.

Santa tells me her story. She had literally nothing after losing her husband and family during the conflict. No land to grow food, no family to help and no money to send her children to school. There appeared to be no hope until she was thrown a life line in the form of the Jinja Women's association. Funded by Comic Relief, it offers small scale loans to help people like Santa get started in business.

It's called a micro credit scheme because the money involved is so small by our standards in the developed world. She borrowed the equivalent of £18. This was all she needed to start a bead-making business. She kept up her monthly repayments, paid back the loan and made a small profit selling her necklaces in the local markets. She then took out a series of larger loans to expand the business.

She managed to buy a sewing machine. A beautiful old Singer sewing machine now sits in pride of place in her little house.

Santa makes blankets and bags and makes her children's school uniform. This is important: education is free in many of the state schools but uniforms are compulsory, and since most families can't afford them, their children don't go.

Santa's life is far from anything I have known. She's adorned the walls of her house with ornately stitched pieces of fabric, and strings of beads hang from every corner. She is doing her very best to provide the best life possible for her family. She tells me how much better life is now thanks to Comic Relief.

Christine x

* Read all of Christine's diary entries here

* See a gallery of pictures of Christine in Uganda

* Info on how to donate to Comic Relief

 * View all our pages on Comic Relief, where you can play our doodle quiz, bid on the Comic Relief doodle book auction and watch all our Comic Relief videos.

Christine x

* Read all of Christine's diary entries here

* See a gallery of pictures of Christine in Uganda

 * Info on how to donate to Comic Relief

 * View all our pages on Comic Relief, where you can play our doodle quiz, bid on the Comic Relief doodle book  auction and watch all our Comic Relief videos.

Read all of my diary entries here.

Watch all of the films I made for Comic Relief here.

Tuesday 6th Jan 2009

It is now Tuesday. We've been travelling for what seems like days. I'm sitting on an internal flight to Entebbe reading a Nairobi newspaper called The Daily Nation. The front page headline reads "Make Muthaura work under Raila". It discusses the Orange Democratic movement demanding fresh negotiations of the coalition agreement with PNU. A worthy discussion I'm sure in these turbulent political times.

What has shocked me though is the small and somewhat insignificant paragraph at the bottom of the page headlined: "2 million risk starvation as drought bites". It briefly explains how two million Kenyans face imminent starvation following crop failures in parts of Eastern and Rift Valley.

The story continues with a further small paragraph on page 6. Can you imagine if that was happening in Britain? Does a society become so familiar with such disasters that they become blasé? More column inches would be dedicated to what Cheryl Cole was wearing at the Brit Awards.

Christine x

* Read all of Christine's diary entries here

* See a gallery of pictures of Christine in Uganda

* Info on how to donate to Comic Relief

* View all our pages on Comic Relief, where you can play our doodle quiz, bid on the Comic Relief doodle book auction and watch all our Comic Relief videos.

Read all of my diary entries here.

Watch all three films I made for Comic Relief here.

Monday 5th January

I'm sitting on a Kenya Airline Flight on my way to Nairobi and then onto Entebbe in Uganda. I've just had a lovely break at home over Christmas and I'm about to embark upon a journey that excites and unnerves me in equal measure.

I sit looking at my little TV screen in the back of the seat in front of me. I'm transfixed by the animated aeroplane travelling across the various time zones. London, Rome, Cutra, Addis Ababa and finally Nairobi. Seven hours and forty three minutes and 6,846 kilometres later we'll have landed.

The animated sequence has got me thinking. Regardless of family background, wealth, friends...what determines our start in life is entirely geographical. My Comic Relief notes tell me nearly 23 million adults and children in Sub-Saharan Africa are now living with HIV. It is too shocking to take in. And so it's back to the birthplace lucky draw; millions of children born with HIV because Africa is their land of origin.

Sleep a little on the way, with Ricky Gervais in the movie Ghost Town keeping me company for part of the journey. Coming into land over Nairobi I see a really industrialised place. Smog covers the bustling city. I've never been to Africa before and so don't know what to expect, but for some reason this wasn't it.

Now waiting in Nairobi for our flight to Entebbe. Justin Canning, our photographer, is with me. We checked our bags right through at Heathrow. If I see mine again, it'll be both a miracle and a welcome sight. Not least because my bloody malaria tablets are in it!

Christine x

* Read all of Christine's diary entries here

* See a gallery of pictures of Christine in Uganda

* Info on how to donate to Comic Relief