Ooh my! Thirteen years ago I was a 14-year-old boy with no family in a tiny refugee camp in Zimbabwe. Struggling for survival year after year and moving from country to country searching for peace and opportunities, I managed to mature and set up goals of my own, made wishes and dreams. Thirteen years later, it appeared that my goals were set to be acomplished when I found myself in the USA. A place where I planned to continue my education, marry a woman of my dreams and start a family of my own. What I did not remember was that I had brothers and sister, parents and friends that are still alive.
In the photo, Ndisa, Murhambo and Ushindi in may 2009 Kampala Uganda (my sisters and brother)
Not too long before I would pursue my goals, eight people just walked into my life and totally have to depend on me for survival. That was my family. I was devastated and confused as I had no clue what to do, I was excited and dreadful at the same time and knew that I had to do something. The one thing that I wouldn’t let happen was to see them go through the things I went through as a refugee. I wouldn’t sleep well knowing that they were in a refugee camp sleeping in tents while I am sleeping in a home with electricity.
Therefore, I had to suspend all my plans, my goals and wishes in order to fully support them in the Ugandan capital of Kampala. Food, rent, medical, education…
Then look back at my own expenses here to survive. I can’t complain because this was my daily prayer. I used to ask God for one thing only before I die, and that thing was to one day sit with my mother and worship the Lord together. Today, knowing that they escaped the cruel wars in the Congo was just a step toward my prayer’s fulfillment.
Struggling to meet my own expenses here but making sure that they eat and sleep peaceably in Kampala was still a success for me. And a year ago signs of help from goodhearted people started coming in and I had hope that by August '09 I certainly would fulfill this long awaited ideal dream. To me this was considered as the ending of a horror movie, and after that, I was to live the rest of my life as a privilege.
I spent almost a year planning this trip that was going to bring education and experience in not only my life but of those following me in every step of the way as well. Suddenly, things started happening unexpectedly, Injuries, medical bills, car problems. And the same happened to my family in Kampala where my mother became so sick and in these last three weeks my entire trip looked indifferent.
The money raised by Boise to Bukavu could not meet all the plans that we had, therefore I was forced to take a decision that kept things just as they were (not going)
Like it’s said, “man plan, God re-arrange.“ I guess God has re-arranged my trip and I just have to wait for that day to come again.