There is so much that I miss about The Most Beautiful Place on Earth with the most Humble, Hospitable, Gracious & Stunning People on Earth. I miss those sunsets. Those shades of bright green. Those smiles. Those dancing feet. Those big brown eyes. Those hugs and high-fives and tiny hands that showered me with so. much. love.
But this time it is very different. This time I fell in love in Uganda. And my bruised heart is aching right now for a little girl that has flipped my entire world upside down. A very, very small 8 year old girl who has turned me into my best self. She lit a fire in my life I never knew was possible. Allowed me to accomplish things I'd only imagined in my dreams. Most importantly, she filled with unconditional love.
Her name is Ariyo Bibianah. And she is 4 feet of pure spunk. Absolute chutzpah. She is on fire. If you take just a few minutes to stare into her eyes, you will see it.
And it is to true in this exact photo that I see myself in her eyes.
When you travel to Uganda to visit your sponsored child you often discover the children call you "mama." At first, that took me by surprise. Ariyo has a biological mother and I am twenty-three years old and I live so. far. away. Mama? It stopped me dead in my tracks. And I realized a few fleeting seconds later that that is what I wanted more than anything in this world. I wanted to be this girl's mama.
As the days progressed I became very comfortable with the endearing nickname Ariyo and her siblings had given me. "Mama gimme water." "Mama eat food." "Mama come." It became so wonderful that eventually I found myself crying at night imagining the day I'd have to say goodbye. How would it be physically possible to let go of my little girl? Because she felt like mine, even though she wasn't.
For you to understand how I am feeling I must start Ariyo's story from the beginning.
The first day that I met Ariyo I went to visit the house where she lived with her mother and two younger siblings. This is what I found.
It was even worse than it looks. I had instant tears in my eyes. I couldn't believe this little girl, this little girl who felt as if she were mine was living this way. My daughter would never live like that. The mud walls of the house were falling apart in clumps. The walls which were once thick and hard were now cracked and bare down to the baboon reeds holding them up. The thin tin sheets of the roof were rusted with holes in which the rain saturated all their belongings daily. They were cooking inside the dirt just a few inches away from where the children were sleeping on the floor in ash, dirt, urine-soaked blackened rags. All three children frequently wet the "bed" and rarely washed up afterwards. They were bathing with water in a cracked basin, without soap, and using that same water for all three bodies. The children wore the same clothes for days, not understanding that clothes are meant to be washed and changed when they become soiled. Ariyo's school uniform was covered in holes and loose threads, practically falling off her shoulders. No shoes. No underwear. Never once brushed their teeth. Didn't use toilet paper when going to the bathroom. Didn't even have a bathroom. They were washing clothes and dishes in dirty water without soap as well, cooking and recooking over and over again in the one saucepan they had. When I arrived they were eating lunch, a few unpeeled potato bits boiled on a open fire in a dirty, dirty pot. Because this family owned so little possessions, they held on to things which should have been discarded long ago. Dirty underpants. A man's broken leather shoe. Several dirty ripped plastic bags. Pieces of broken wooden furniture. I was consumed by grief.
The only thing I could think to do in that moment was to have the kids bathe and give them their gifts, new outfits and shoes. Just that simple gesture created a huge transformation....and smiles.
The children and I completed the home visit by playing with a shiny new pink football and blowing bubbles. I tried so hard to mask my frustration. How was this life acceptable for anyone? On the climb down the mountain I turned to my friend Clare and I said "I am going to build them a house. I don't know how. I don't know where the money will come from. I don't know who will build it or where I'll go to buy the materials or if it is even acceptable to the community. I am not leaving Uganda until that little girl has a house." She looked at me, smiled and nodded her head. Spoken word is equivalent to a legal contract in Uganda. Words are promises and promises are powerful. YOU DONT EVER SPEAK A PROMISE UNLESS YOU PLAN TO KEEP IT.
I spent the next few days slowly stocking the children's wardrobe and teaching them how to care for their new possessions. They all received a set of crocs and a set of tennis shoes with stockings. They all learned the purpose of underwear and changing outfits daily. They began using soap, washing blankets and bed sheets, brushing teeth, smearing their skin with vaseline. Ariyo and Scovia each received 5 new dresses and 3 sweat shirts. Their little brother received wonderful clothes from a six-year old boy named Georgie in Chicago. Mama and big sister Aine received outfits and tennis shoes from my mother, Kim Reschke. Look at how they slowly changed in just one week. I don't mean their clothing, I mean their faces.
Then a miracle happened. JAM needed me to shoot some footage at the Children's Home in Mbarara, 6 hours away. I'd need to spend a whole week there, instead of with Ariyo in Kishanje. I was devastated.
While I was in Mbarara I had SO much fun with the children there, missing Ariyo the entire time. One day I walked into town with my friend Mutungi and came across an Internet cafe. INTERNET!
I paid my 1,000 shillings and quickly typed up an email to my mom and dad expressing the family's dire situation. I begged and begged for them to please consider building them a house. I didn't know how it was going to possible and when it would happen or even what building a house in Uganda meant but I just KNEW that I had to keep trying. I returned to the cafe every day to exchange emails with my family and friends. Over the course of 24 hours my mother had forwarded my emails on to extended family and friends from her office. Everyone wanted to help! My father promised a large donation which, in return, I promised to pay back upon my return to the states. The last email I read from my mother was that she was sending $2,500 through Western Union. I could have fainted.
On my way back to Kishanje I stopped in Kabale town where I saw a Western Union. They closed at 4:00pm and I received the money at exactly 3:57pm. I continued on to Kishanje with a stack of 6 million shillings bundled up in my bag. I couldn't believe I had the money in my possession. Now what was I going to do with it?!
Thank God for my friends Allen, Clare, Richard, Moses and Masaka. Allen knew exactly where to buy and transport the materials. He knew what good local prices were on bricks, sand, cement, timber and labor. Every day he drove the school van to pick up more and more materials and brought me the receipts. Allen was literally the brain and hands of this project and I thank God for him every day. It would have never been possible with him. So we immediately began construction, hoping we could finish the house before I left....which was unheard of when building a house up on a mountain with 6 men and no machines!
We started by telling the mom.
That night the family and I started the processing of moving 4,000 bricks down the mountain to the construction site. I took us days and we used students from the high school to A LOT of the carrying.
While we moved bricks (tafali) for days, the men got started on digging the foundation. They dug a 1 foot deep trench where the walls would go and afterwards, starting mixing sand (omusheni) and building walls!
While the men did manly things like physical labor.....the girls did what we do best: a shopping day in town! I had a looooong list of things I wanted to buy for the house and we had only one day to do it (Driving into town is expensive, about 160,000 shillings or $70 and is a 2 1/2 hour drive). This was the best day ever and I was with my best friends Sight, Clare and Stable. Some of the things we bought: 5 mattresses, 5 blankets, 5 bed sheets, nails, blue paint, 3 bunk beds, 1 single bed, 5 metal trunks, a year supply of soap, 4 jerry cans, 5 basins, 12 plastic plates, bowls, cups, 4 medium saucepans, 1 large saucepan, a mat for eating, broom, a bucket to hold porridge, 5 mosquito nets and 100 kg of posho (maize flour) and beans.
We stored all our purchases at the guest house until the completion of construction when we could outfit the house with padlocks, sturdy doors and lockable windows. The house blossomed more and more each day......so did Ariyo's personality.
Once the walls were up my dear friend Richard finished the roofing in ONE day. I left my mark on the cement floor in the living room. Nimbakunda means "I love you all."
Eventually the home will be plastered and painted. For now, they have a STRONG, PERMANENT, DRY, WARM, CLEAN home. A home where they have a place to cook outside. A home with a cement floor that's easy to sweep. A home filled with beds, mattresses, fuzzy blankets. A home with a STABLE and SAFE roof. A home with doors and padlocks and dishes and benches and soap. Soon they will have a toilet (its in process needs a machine to dig through rock). Most importantly, they have place to lay down their heads at night and dream. To sleep the way that children should sleep. A home where they can do their school work and keep their clean clothes in metal trunks decorated with stickers and their name. We might have given this family a house but what they gave me has changed me forever.
I look at my apartment now with its crown molding and its slate tiled floors and its water heater and dish washer and staircase and carpeting and closets and sinks and fire alarms and ceiling and i just think Damn it Tiffanie. You've spent 23 years taking everything you have for granted.
I have some peace of mind knowing that Ariyo is enjoying her new house. I imagine her running in and out of the bedrooms, making her bed with her new pink checkered sheets, storing her bunny rabbit in her metal trunk and fitting her tiny fingers inside my hand prints. I feel better, I really do.
But I am selfish and I miss her. I want her here. With me. I know that she is not mine but I wish she was. I'd give anything to love that little girl forever. ANYTHING. She brought out the best in me. Led me to accomplish things I never imagined I could accomplish alone. She gave me back my motivation and passion and determination and dreams and confidence and bravery. I spent two months loving on that little girl and now I've just realized I was learning how to love myself again, through these little eyes.
Ariyo, I love you so much. I am always with you and I will be back again to get your ears pierced. Just like I promised.
And that is how Uganda changes people.
I LOVE this Tiff. Praise God for you and for what Ariyo has done for you. May you continue to be blessed by this beautiful soul!
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