My life story

My name is Nalubega Nasimu, I live in the Bugiri Eastern part of Uganda and I am 15 years old. As I tell you this story I hope you will identify with me and my situation that I have lived all these years. I live with my two sisters Nalubanga Doreen 10 years old and Nakwanga Basi 8 years old.

I lost my parents in 2013, they were mainly farmers and when they died our relatives chased us from the land we had been living. None of us knew the reason or disease behind their sudden death until when we were told, but speculations and rumor has it that they were AIDS . On the side of our mother, they had some land but following the fact that everybody had died in the home, we went to stay in the small-old grass thatched house that was left in the home.

We moved there, we didn’t have food, clothes and money to buy anything. The community we moved was very new and nobody knew us so it was hard for people to come to our rescue. I remember the first three days at our new home we didn’t have any food but we were at least lucky to have somewhere to sleep because in our original home, we had slept out of the house for two weeks as were thinking of where to go.

The house we were staying had been left a couple of years before, so it was liking and termites had invaded it…but we were happy with that, it was good enough. Being the eldest of my siblings I had to get out of my comfort zone and went out to neighbors asking if I could dig for them in their gardens so that they could give us some food. Some suspicious ones didn’t give me the job but others just called me and gave two or three fingers of cassava for digging a large chunk of their garden.

That is how we survived through life…we all cried and missed our parents for who they had been…very loving and great parents to us! We miss them a bunch! I have grown to be the bread winner for my siblings; I have been made to learn the hard way.

Some village vagabonds broke into our house one night and raped all of us, they raped from one person to the other and I feel sick about this memory. I feel terrible about men, Why did they have to add torture to us when life was giving us a fair share already? Not knowing anyone, we had to live with the trauma and nursed our stigma alone. It was hard to move on and the fact that I couldn’t save my sisters still haunts me up to now!

We have lived with the same clothes that we used three years ago and that was what our survival! One morning a neighbor demanded to know who we were lest, she would command the people to throw us away out of the home….I told her of our story and she was touched, she went home and picked a basket of sweet potatoes for us. Every time I fell sick, we didn’t eat until I became well, this state made my young sisters begin working for people like fetching for them water and collect for them firewood such that we could have something to eat.

Until later the hope we had in the neighborhood woman who helped us later ended when her husband told her to stop helping us, it was another hurting period of my life together with my two young sisters.

It was one day when Pastor Steven the director of WDF saw me begging for money on the street that he called me and took me to his office where I met other children like me who needed help, and who were preparing to be taken to other boarding school, this was this year 2017 in January.

I was told I will be helped with my two sisters, it was last month that we had to be registered and we are hoping for some one merciful to sponsor me and my sisters so we can go to school and also have clothes and food and have a roof over our heads.

 God has been good, we still live to date!

 My dream is to become a teacher


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