Throughout my day in the office my co-workers visit me and share about their lives; the difficulty of paying school fees for their children, abusive spouses, robbery, bad roads, and the rising cost of living in Kotido. It seems that everyone has a story to share. Story is also one of the main forms of communication, one day Bishop James (my “boss”) was explaining a Karamajong cultural concept to me he said, “Okay, it’s like this custom we have of sharing homebrew out of a gourd in a circle….” He went on to tell me a story about one of those kinds of meetings and, to my surprise, at the conclusion I actually understood much more clearly the concept he was conveying to me. The evenings at my host home are full of stories; it is extremely important for the family to share stories with each other, and it is also important that everyone’s story is heard.
One evening one of the cousins who live with Romano and Maria called Auma Catherine shared her story. Auma Catherine is delightful; she is always smiling and laughing, starting games with the kids, and boisterously singing while she works around the compound. One evening after supper Auma Catherine told another cousin who speaks English that she wanted to tell me a story. This is the story Auma Catherine shared:
One day I went out with some other women from our village to gather firewood. We walked a long distance into the bush to gather the kindling because the resources close to our village had all been used. A few of us had to move further than those who had already collected enough firewood. When we had all gathered as much as we could carry we turned around to follow our foot prints back to the larger group. But, it had grown dark and traveling at night can be very dangerous. So instead of continuing on we lay down to sleep for the night in a secluded clearing.
In the morning, we continued to follow our footprints but we never found the larger group. Instead we came to a ravine full of water, none of us knew how to swim and we did not know how we were going to pass. We spent one day trying to figure out a way to cross but the water was strong and there was no way around it. On the morning of the third day a group of men came along side us by the ravine and helped us to cross. We were so grateful because there was no way for us to cross by ourselves. The men even helped us to get all the firewood across the water. When we got back to the village everyone was surprised and happy to see us, they thought we had been killed by warriors or had died in the bush. We were all very tired and hungry.
Helen Keller once wrote, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.” I do not think Auma Catherine told her story to shock me or fill me with pity, I think she told me so we could share delight in the journey she had experienced. One thing I am sure of: Auma Catherine’s adventures are not over, in the coming months I am anticipating hearing more of her “daring adventures.”
I believe each one of us has a “daring adventure” which must be shared with our communities. Perhaps your story is one of triumph, like Auma Catherine’s. Or maybe the story is difficult, renewing pain in you through the memory of those events. Regardless, our victories should be celebrated and our hurt should be grieved alongside our communities so the joys or burdens are carried by everyone.
If I may be so bold, share your story with someone today,
and now the challenge: listen to their story.
Auma Catherine
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