In May and June 2013, Rasmus and I visited Burundi and Uganda. I spent the first five days at the Amahoro Conference, then we flew to Burundi to stay in the home of Kelley and Claude Nikondeha with the She Loves ladies, visiting their community development projects at Matara and Bubanza. Afterwards, we flew back to Uganda and visited River of Life Church in Uganda, where we sponsor two children. Here you can find all the stories I wrote down from our trip.
I put my head around the door of the church and said hi to the small group of women gathered there. Rasmus had gone back to the house to rest, and Rob was in a meeting so he suggested I come in here and meet the women involved in the church’s Women’s Ministry. Six women…
There was once a community that was given a new piece of land to live on. It was the first land they’d ever owned and it was fertile and green and beautiful and they were happy for it. But there was a problem. Their new neighbours hated them. They were Batwa, the minority in the…
We drove through the busy Kampala streets, full of shops with hand painted signs, motorbikes and minibuses everywhere, and people buying, selling, walking, talking. We arrived at a small building with a little verandah and plastic chairs set out to welcome the visitors. This was the day centre for Rahab Ministries, an organisation that helps…
I’ve been back in Luxembourg for a week now. I’ve read hundreds of emails, helped organise an event, hosted an out-of-town guest, planted tomatoes and chillies and green beans on our balcony, finished two books, had a picnic by the river, signed up for a wedding fair, joined a board, had a photo shoot, made…
There’s something about coming home that’s unlike any other feeling. I clambour off the bus with my hand luggage and two suitcases (Rasmus has gone directly into the office so I took his home too). Up the front steps. I open the mailbox and fish out the pile of bills, restaurant adverts, and one actually-intriguing…
I was drinking in every sight and sound on the journey yesterday. I was in the middle of the backseat of the car, watching out the front window as our driver negotiated the Burundian roads with more confidence than I would have been able to, swerving around potholes and cyclists as we made our way…
