Have you ever made a solemn promise? One that meant
the world to you at the time you made it, but which gradually began
to retreat into the dim corners of your mind when you found yourself
faced with the grinding demands of daily life? That is exactly what
happened to me, when in 1986, the government of my country, Uganda,
East Africa, was overthrown by a military coup, and my husband’s
government-sponsored scholarship was revoked.
We had come to America two years earlier as students,
now we were suddenly demoted to refugee status with no way to support
ourselves. Mounting financial pressures were made worse by information
from the Red Cross that convinced us that our families back home
had been killed during the coup. My husband, in despair, abandoned
his family. And I found myself occupying the role of a single mom
with total responsibility for raising four small children, while
at the same time struggling to educate myself. Often I worked three
jobs in order to make ends meet, and my vision of service to my
village back home gradually faded into the background.
It has taken me more than twenty years to make
good on my pledge—and Atai (Ah-tie) Orphanage Fund is the
result. Therefore, I consider it a particular pleasure to speak
to you on behalf of Atai, a non-profit organization whose mission
is to uplift the children of Uganda’s dirt-poor rural communities
by providing them with the basic support necessary to sustain strong
bodies and healthy minds—food, clothing, shelter, medical
care and school supplies.
The Lucky Ones
Although this fledgling organization was born in
America in 2004, the very first brick—its cornerstone—was
laid many years ago in the form of a solemn promise I made to God
at the age of 5 or 6 years old. When I was growing up, the mortality
rate for children in my village was very high. Unfortunately, it
remains so even today. Those who survive are considered to be very
lucky, and I was one of the lucky ones to have made it to age five.
However, there was one family in the village whose
misfortunes made a great impact upon me. They were a family of four
children—two boys and two girls—who had lost both their
mother and father to disease, and they had to go and live with their
grandmother who had almost nothing. I saw how much they suffered.
They had no food, proper clothing or school fees, and I became so
afraid that this might also happen to me. So I cried out to heaven
saying, “Please God, don’t let my mommy and daddy die.
I promise that when I grow up I will do something good for you.
I will do my best to help these poor children who don’t have
parents.”
Widows, Orphans and AIDS
It was during the trip back home to see my family
(most of whom had, thank God, managed to survive the coup) in 2004—my
first visit in twenty years—that the covenant I’d made
struck me like a thunderbolt. It really pierced my heart in a way
that is impossible to describe. I realized for the first time that
I didn’t have a choice: I had to do something about it. It
came to me one day as I was walking around my village, retracing
the footpaths that I’d walked many years ago as a child. Everywhere
I walked I met people who had nothing: hordes of children and adults
stricken with HIV/AIDS; widows scouring bare fields, on their knees,
digging for roots and other scraps to make a meal; and orphans who
were living a hand-to-mouth existence in search of food, shelter,
paper and pencils. A sharp pain ripped through my heart and tears
began to flow down my face as many of them approached to ask for
help. They had heard that “a rich madam” from America
had returned home to the village. If they only knew how hard I’d
worked to earn every penny. I’d been squirreling away money
from my modest salary as a Walgreen’s manager for the past
five years—just to be able to afford the price of the ticket!
For weeks before the trip, I’d frequented
the shopping aisles at Sam’s, Target and Wal-mart’s,
busily stuffing my trunks with gifts for my many relatives back
home. But as a steady stream of malnourished villagers, dressed
literally in rags, came to knock at my parents’ door, I found
myself giving away all of my clothing and other personal belongings.
I returned to my home in St. Charles, Mo. with only the dress I
had on and five dollars in my purse. The need was so overwhelming
that it was the least that I could do.
A Village of the Heart
My fellow villagers—for I am speaking of
a village of the heart—I cannot properly express to you just
how precious Atai Orphanage Fund is to me. That is why it bears
my mother’s name, “Atai,” which means “free”
in our native language. For me it is a tiny infant who has just
been given the gift of life, and who now requires nourishment to
grow big and strong. “It takes a village to raise a child,”
says an ancient African proverb. Likewise, it takes a village with
a big and caring heart to save a child. In order to rescue these
beautiful and precious children, together we must help to free them
from a crippling poverty and disease. For the past two years Atai
has managed to survive and grow only through generous donations
of money and clothing from a few devoted friends, and from my own
paycheck. Today I appeal to you to join me in helping to fulfill
the solemn promise I made to God. Join this village of the heart
and give generously!
In closing, I am reminded of the words of the Greatest
Giver of all: “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the
least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” Please
accept my heartfelt thanks for your faith and for your contributions.
May God bless you!
Sincerely,
Annah F. Emuge
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES:
My name is Annah Frances Emuge; however, I was
born Annah Frances Acham and raised in Teso district, Ngora County,
Agu village. Agu village is located about 400 miles northeast of
Uganda’s capitol city of Kampala. Partly because of its location
deep in the interior of the country, it remains one of Uganda’s
poorest rural districts. At the age of nineteen, I married James
Emuge, a highly placed administrator with the Ministry of Education
at the time. Two years later, in 1986, my husband was granted a
government-sponsored scholarship to study for his Ph.D. at the University
of Ohio. We had planned to stay in America for five years, but as
stated above, our plans were forever changed by a military coup
in 1986. As a result of that life-altering event, I have made my
home in the U.S.A. for the past twenty-three years. I am the proud
mother of four beautiful children—two boys and two girls.
My two older children, Gilbert and Roselind, have recently earned
college degrees, which as a single mother, makes me even prouder.
Having sprouted from humble yet proud roots, I have preached the
gospel of self-determination and progress via higher education throughout
their young lives. My two younger children, Diana and Brian, have
been no less affected by my evangelical fervor, and are making steady
strides toward achieving their own career goals. I am also the doting
grandmother of two handsome boys: Elijah, a robust six-year-old
and Isaiah, who recently turned three. I am thankful to God everyday
for both branches of my family—the African and the American—and
it is my sincere hope and fervent prayer that we will all one day
gather around one humongous table to share our stories over a family
meal.
