BITS OF MY STORY.

My story began  when I was very young, in fact, before I was born.  My family lives in Uganda. I was born to a family of 8 siblings. To a precious family that believed even when there was nothing left. My mom fell sick often and my dad prayed alot. He used to fast4 days a week.


I remember us waiting for mom to come home because she was the only bread winner of the family. She made sweaters for schools in the town. Then she would walk for miles with bread, milk and other stuff balanced on her head like a true African woman. Every evening as the night drew closer and the sun disappear slowly to a place our little minds never knew. we thought the entire world was our village and that everyone was a sleep. only the dangerous people and animals were looking for prey and yet mom was walking back home from working for hours. At times with only enough to buy paraffin to light up out dark little one roomed 'house' as we called it. At those wee hours of the night, we all sat silent, no one saying a word to the other. Wondering if mom would make it home again. The railway was scary and dark, each with pounding chests from fear praying that God would watch over our hero. I will never forget one day when mom, didnt get home until 10pm. My big brother Joshua and others run to face their greatest fears find her. Our hearts raced, oh how I remember those days. Never knowing if she would get back a live. But God was faithful then and is still faithful today. How we forget so quickly how faithful He has been. He has always been right there. he surely comes and saves us. Just as his love is new every morning we too need to trust him newly each day. It felt like faith had to be new everyday and trust each day. But I have never known anyone as faithful as God. He is our refuge in times of trouble.

One day I was in school and I got news from my church that my mom and brother were admitted in hospital. My mom suffering from cerebral malaria. The highest level of malaria that causes one to go insane. But once in a while she got her senses back and had to look after my little adopted brother Benjamin Mitala who was in hospital due to a burn from water that had poured on him from his waist to his feet. Eating up his flesh and leaving him in pain and screaming. Why oh why did this have to happen when I was in school I asked myself. In the midst of exams, I cried and prayed. my teachers couldn't let me go back home and take care of them. i was scared that mom would tear off the coverings on my brothers woulds since she was sick herself. i could not stop worrying. I prayed so hard for God to help. After a while I realized I had stomach pain, when the school doctor examined me, I had ulcers,which is believed to be a result of worry and lack of food. It was common, my dad had the same and his were worse, this is life in extreme poverty. Life gives you what it decides to, I felt hopeless and a lone. But right in that mess, God was still good, he had not changed, he knew my pain and he hadn't leave me even for a second. I also had a friend called Pam from Sitka Alaska. a friend through my local church, i always wrote to her and cried as i scribbled my ink-less pen on my sponsor letter. Oh memories, how precious you are, thank you for always being there. God was also with my brother, mom and dad. I cannot tell, you how we survived that season, all I know is that we did miracles exist atleast in my world. I actually don't know where my other siblings were... My other brother Mosses so gifted in business skills must age been trying to make some money for the rest f the family to survive and Ema busy preaching about God's love on the streets in Kampala. Oh how I love Jesus because he first loved me.

Benjamin my miracle brother and my gift given to us by God after his mother dying at birth. His mother never saw him and neither did he. He was laying on pieces of cloth at his mother's funeral which is usually the living room of the deceased. No one taking care of him because everyone feared taking responsibility of a one day old. The village had gathered to go for burial as is the culture in Uganda. With Moaning from every side of the house some talking of how great she was as they shouted in different tones. Moaning in Uganda is something to witness, some people will board a matatoo (public taxi) immediately they get off the matatoo ( public taxi) they start to wail and fail to stand as those at the funeral run to catch them, then they begin to wail and narrate how wonderful someone was and how much they will miss them. By the time Burial is done, you will feel like you were related to the deceased. I love the community aspect. My mom heard a cry of a baby, she asked if he had eaten anything and no one knew anything. She decided to take the baby and feed him from that day to today he became my little brother. Thank God for Compasssion International because then he was registered at the church project because my family could not afford taking care of the seven of us but as the bible says when you are faithful with the much God will give you even more.
He is a blessing, he loves playing the guitar, he loves singing and praying. He literally can make anything out of nothing. He wants to become an engineer. With the little I make with my other siblings and compassion he is now in grade 11 studying hard to finish high schools and join universality. God is faithful. God uses the little we have to make big things. I am amazed. He is taller than most of us and now growing into a God fearing man. Only God does things like this not man.

Fortress in times of war. Your God will surely come.