A BRIGHT SPARK OF HOPE!!

 

This is My Story: Part 2 

 "My Life After the War"

In the first part of "This is My Story," I shared glimpses of my early school life amid war. Today, I continue with the second chapter,

“My Life After the War.” 

When I look back, I realize that the effects of the war gave birth to a deep desire for something different. Join me as I further reflect. 

When we returned from exile, we found our home destroyed—burned down and overgrown with bush.

 For months, we were hosted by neighbors as my father worked to rebuild our lives. He managed to construct a small hut, but it was so tiny that only my parents could sleep inside. I had to find shelter with different neighbors for quite some time. Life was unbearably difficult. Before the war, farming was not just our source of income—it was how we fed ourselves and made any income. The war disrupted everything, leaving us without food. Thankfully, some neighbors who hadn’t been chased away took pity on us and fed us for months. War doesn’t just destroy homes and livelihoods; it forces children into adult responsibilities far too soon. Instead of being a child and enjoying being provided by parents and playing with friends, poverty robs children of such privileges. 

At the tender age of 10, when I was in 5th grade, I had to learn to survive in ways no child should ever have to. 

Here are some of the things I had to do:

a) Build my own hut
As a result of the lack of resources, my parents couldn't afford housing for us. What that meant was that I had to construct my own house.

Let me describe my first house in 5th Grade: A small mud house with a grass-thatched roof. Out of my creatinty I designed a ceiling out of a papyrus mat and created a makeshift electricity system using batteries. Even though I had never seen electricity up close, I caught glimpses of it from the town of Tororo when I climbed the hills near home. I imagined how the wires worked in my spotlight and tried replicating my imagination. 

 Inside the hut was my hand-made bed from wooden poles. I also fashioned my first mattress using sacks. It was the most comfortable space I had ever experienced. Inside my hut was also a three-legged stool crafted by a friend. 

For the first time in a long while, I had something to look forward to after the devastation of war.

My little hut became a wonder in the village, and people would gather to see the "electricity." 

Looking back, it feels surreal that, 30 years later, I advocated for and finally brought the first government-provided electricity to our community.

b) Earn my school fees
My earlier story explained how education was not a priority during the war. But even after the war, I believed education was the only way life could get better. So, I had to find ways to earn my tuition. 

I would wake up early to work in the garden each day before heading to school. After school, I would return to my garden. I also learned to make and bake bricks, which I sold to earn extra money. 

I even made portable granaries and sold them to people in the village. I’ll never forget the pride I felt when I bought my first pair of slippers—my first real shoes. 

c) Live a busy, grown-up life
I had to manage my small businesses, go to school, and walk a mile and a half to fetch water each day after school. By the time I reached school, I was already exhausted. My grades didn’t matter much at that point—my main goal was to stay in school. Playtime was a luxury I couldn’t afford. While other kids enjoyed games, I was busy fetching water or making bricks. My childhood was stolen from me.

This experience shaped my vision for Shalom Care School. I know firsthand what it's like to struggle, so I prioritized providing two meals daily for the kids at Shalom Care School. We work hard to get sponsors for needy children, and we even offer boarding services for those who come from backgrounds like mine.

The truth is, there wasn’t much motivation for me to be anything other than a school dropout. Apart from teachers, I didn’t know anyone who had studied past high school. My long-term dream was to move to the biggest town I knew—Jinja.

That’s how life after the war unfolded for me, and those early experiences laid the foundation for the community work I am involved in today. Through the Shalom Namutere Project, I hope to give children in my community a chance to dream bigger and live better lives than I could have imagined back then.

             “If your dreams don’t scare you, they are too small.”. – Richard Branson.

Most images illustrate the things mentioned in my story but are not real images of real happenings. 

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Robert Edube 

Executive Director and Founder of Shalom Namutere Project.