“Is this it?” I asked myself on the morning of my graduation day. It had been an intense year of school, nothing like any educational program I had experienced before, but the grace of God carried me through it. Basking in the celebratory mood of my recent graduation, I took a mental walk-through of my last year’s journey reflecting on how it all started.

While planning on my next step in life at the time, and somewhat confused and tentative about things, I suddenly was overcome by a conviction to go for a postgraduate diploma in management. Those of you who are or have been in positions of responsibility can bear witness that management is a complex issue. Some might ask why would anyone want to study management, but I’ve learned that our struggles in life, and there are plenty in the office workplace, are usually directed towards finding solutions. My daily responsibilities at Caring Hands and MUYU are constantly reminding me of this reality of life.

One afternoon, I followed my conviction, and enrolled in a highly touted Masters Business Management program here in Kampala. The most interesting thing I remember on that first day of class began with the anxiety and frustration of dealing with Kampala traffic jams. They are horrendous. I found myself caught in a monster jam, and I was beset with the nagging thought of being late to my first class. Great first impression with my instructor. Aside from the jam, I had not attended the orientation session because the day it was scheduled I was out of town. I finally arrived at the institution, which was only ten minutes away from my work place without the jam, but I now realize I didn’t have a clue of where my classes were to take place. Awkwardly, I began following people I assumed were scholars and saying hi with a big smile to everybody I met on campus. Deep down I was ashamed to ask someone where my class was to be held. Feeling more desperate, I finally engaged a young man and verbally assaulted him with my ordeal chatting him up like I had known him all my life. I kept wondering what does he think of me? I watched him make a few phone calls on my behalf as I thought to myself, who is this guy, how come he has all these contacts? He got off the phone, took me to a window, and pointed to the building I should go. I finally composed and introduced myself. He did the same, and then added he was the school Guild President!!! When you are seeking God’s will, He will provide direction!

When I got to the building, I saw a familiar face. I wasn’t sure if this gentleman would remember me, but I was sure he was a senior instructor at the Institution and a former classmate of one of my friends and colleagues at work. I approached him with a smile, introduced myself, and reminded him that we had met at Prayer Mountain where he had offered my friend and I a ride back to Kampala. I was close to reminding him how at the time he had emphatically made us listen to a recording of a woman who supposedly had died but came back to life and lived another seven years to complete what God had instructed her to do but time did not allow for that. He told me a room number to go to and within a couple of minutes after sitting down, low and behold, he walked into the classroom and introduced himself as the instructor of our first class. The class ended at exactly 9:00PM. Fellow classmates had requested him to let us out at least a quarter to 9:00PM but he answered that he was a Christian who wasn’t ready cheat his employer. That affirmation was nice to hear but I too was worn out.

I arrived home at 10:10PM, regretting why I had to return home by public means. I had promised a friend that I would Skype with him and update him about how my first evening class went. Cooking dinner was next for me as well as for Precious, my pet dog. Although the day was stressful, I counted it all joy! This became my new life. Less sleep, less parties and less outings.

I learned a lot, made friends, ate lots of hard corn during class to keep awake and ingested more lunch time roasted chicken than you can imagine during exams. A time came when everyone seemed to willfully shove the food down our throats and struggle to attend all the classes, but in the end, the grace of God was sufficient.
Today I stand to thank God for His love, grace, mercy, provision and protection. 95% of the time that I attended my daily classes I arrived and departed via ‘bodabodas’, small dangerous motorcycles for those of you in the West. A few times when it rained, Sam Kisembo a work colleague of mine at the College of Health Sciences offered me a ride in one the College vehicles. Other times, Patrick and Akram (taxi operators) dropped me off or picked me up from school but at reasonable fares.

I thank Dr. Charles Reed Holt, my unofficial foster father, to whom I dedicate this article. He is the best thing next to salvation that has happened to me. Please accept my apologies for not sharing this educational adventure with you before I enrolled.
Dr. Bradley Richards, thank you for your friendship and encouragement. Thanks also to my dear brothers, Denis and Reagan, my classmates including Ms. Judith Nakaye, Ms.Frances Atima, Ms. Kirabo Justine, Caring Hands staff, and many other friends. And lastly thanks to my long time friend Dr. Evelyn Nabawanuka. (and no, I won’t tell anyone the number of years we have been friends because that makes you think you are old. Hahaha!). You all make my world!

Love,

Susan Nalugo