My story

Masitula Nakiganda was once a bright, playful girl, known for her radiant smile that could light up a room. At 4 years old, she would chase butterflies in the small yard of her family’s home, her laughter filling the air like the chirping of birds. Her life, though modest, felt full with the love of her parents, and she believed their little home was unbreakable. But behind closed doors, cracks had begun to form. Her parents, once loving and kind to each other, had to started arguing more often. Masitula didn’t understand why her mother would sit in silence after her father came home late or why her father would disappear for days without explanation. She could sense the tension, but she was too young to comprehend its weight. One night, the tension exploded. Masitula sat curled in a corner of their tiny living room as her parents shouted at each other, their voices filled with anger and accusations she couldn’t understand. Her mother’s eyes were wet with rage, and her father’s face was twisted in frustration. The word adultery was hurled between them, but to Masitula, it was just noise a word she didn’t know, a word that was tearing her life apart. The argument turned physical. In a blur of movement and screaming, things were knocked over, furniture overturned. Masitula pressed her hands over her ears, trying to block out the sounds of her world breaking. Neighbors soon gathered outside, and before she knew it, the police arrived, pulling her parents apart like two forces destined to destroy each other. They were taken away in handcuffs, and in an instant, her family was gone. Masitula was left standing alone in the doorway, her small frame dwarfed by the chaos that had unfolded around her. She called for her parents to come back, but no one answered. The house was silent now, as if her voice had been swallowed by the empty rooms. In the days that followed, Masitula sat by the window, waiting for her parents to return. Neighbors would stop by, offering food or a kind word, but they didn’t know what to say to a little girl whose world had collapsed. No one could replace the love she had lost, and no one seemed to know what would happen next. Weeks passed, and Masitula’s once bright eyes had dulled. She barely ate, rarely spoke, and no longer played in the yard. She had stopped chasing butterflies, and her laughter, once so frequent, had disappeared. She was lost in a world she no longer recognized, abandoned by the two people who had meant everything to her. When we learned of Masitula’s situation, we knew we had to step in. She had been left alone for too long, burdened by a pain too heavy for a child to carry. When we brought her to our care center, she barely spoke, her heart too fragile and her spirit too broken. But slowly, with the care and support she found in the center, Masitula began to open up. She started to smile again, just faintly at first, as if she was unsure she still knew how. The road to healing would be long, but Masitula, the girl who once lost everything, was beginning to find hope again. And in that hope, her future lay waiting, just beyond the horizon.

Masitula is supported by impact partner Serah

Our childcare provides shelter for vulnerable homeless children who have been orphaned due to natural circumstances, such as the death of one or both parents, as well as poverty-related issues that cause despair in parents, causing them to make drastic choices that leave many of these children vulnerable. Some children are rejected by their families because of minor body abnormalities and treatable medical conditions. Others are left on the streets of the capital Kampala, where they risk a lot to make a living. Because every child is precious to God. We cannot sit back and watch these children suffer alone. Still, we can do something to restore their priceless lives and give them hope for the future. As a childcare provider, we provide a home for our children after they are approved by the government agency based on the child's status or condition. He or she is initiated into our family situation, from where they find a sense of belonging. Our mother, who happens to be a widow, can take care of the child together with other siblings he or she finds in the house and together they form a family. We emphasize that our children are formed and raised in a family institution. Because this is a way in which proper and appropriate standards of life are instilled. We provide them with quality education, food, health and medicine, clothing, and above all, divine principles. LUF believes that when we empower our children or our society as a whole, we provide a great platform for great African leaders who will one day empower the next generation of Africa and the entire world as a whole.