This morning, after a rainy night, looking out the window I see the frangipani on the ground and sadness invades me: I believe that even trees have a soul. I take my cell phone and try to text Mama Steve, we haven’t heard from each other for a while, but then I let it go. After the guardian finishes tearing apart the tree with the machete to let me pass (he had just fallen in front of the gate) the cellphone rings: Mama Steve! Okay I say, I know that I am telepathic and this is the umpteenth confirmation (and here I think of my Pierina, she even read the cards).
I answer and mama Steve tells me that her house (two rooms) collapsed in the rains; I tell her that I am going to the office and then I will go to her with my colleagues. We arrive on the spot and the mud house with the cement plaster is a unique crack, the eldest daughter tells me that “as soon as the sun comes out, the house will collapse completely” and my colleague Daudi confirms this theory. Mandago, the coordinator of KISEDET reassures mama Steve that we will find her another home and that she will be able to slowly repay the rent money to KISEDET (a percentage, of course, another part will be paid in the form of support).
We leave on the other side of the city from Bibi Luca, a sick lady who lives with three orphaned grandchildren, to whom we have just given a wheelchair with an engine. We also bring you some food. Bibi Luca earns her living by reselling coal, sitting outside her hovel. He keeps giving us blessings “mbarikiwe sana” and then he says to me: “Mbeleje do you know that it no longer rains inside my house? I thank God because this year is so good with me: first, you repaired my house where it was raining inside, now the moto-wheelchair. I ask God every day to bless you; that’s all I can give you in return “.
I have been living in Africa for 23 years, but this resilience, this hope, this strength, are always lifeblood for me! Yesterday I was frustrated by bureaucratic issues that seem to never end, but then when I come in contact with these people, everything disappears and inside me, I feel that I want to continue doing what I do every day because I would not know how to do anything else and I would not even want to. . I think of frangipane, and even if I’m still a little sad I tell myself that it could have been worse and my heart fills with gratitude for these people, who know how to give me so much strength and courage. I say it to you: may God bless you “Mungu awabariki!”