A generation of empowered women, empowering others

My Testimony & Calling

Early Life in Bukhalarire

I was raised in a small village called Bukhalarire, in Busia, western Kenya, a community severely impacted by poverty, lack of education, and HIV. In our village, illness was widely misunderstood and often attributed to curses or witchcraft.

I am the fifth of seven children. My parents’ marriage was born out of hardship rather than genuine love. My mother dropped out of primary school in Class 4 because our culture placed little value on educating girls, believing a woman’s place was strictly in the kitchen. When she became pregnant by her first love, he abandoned her, leaving her rejected by her family and an outcast in her community. Desperate to shield her from shame, her family pressured her to marry. My father was captivated by her beauty and singing voice, so he married her to rescue her from her circumstances, but not out of true love.

I vividly remember my mother weeping on my small shoulders, pouring out her broken heart to my young self. Long before I understood what love and marriage meant, I learned a vital lesson: marriage must be entered into with God’s guidance and built on true love, no matter the circumstances.

Hardship, Abuse, and Loss

Sadly, my father never truly loved my mother. When I was just five years old, he abandoned us, leaving my mother to bear the heavy burden of raising seven children alone. My early memories of him are filled with terror, watching him severely beat my mother, driving us to run out into the night to hide in the bushes or seek shelter with neighbors. I will never forget the fear of one night when we had to sleep in a thick bush right by the river.

The years that followed were an endless struggle to survive. To earn a single meal, we took on whatever grueling work we could find. Because my mother was uneducated, she mopped floors, dug fields, and carried heavy bricks and water at construction sites. We worked alongside her, but instead of fair wages, people often paid us with rotten beans or maize. Because we could rarely afford school fees, we were constantly sent home, spending our days laboring instead of learning. That heavy physical labor at such a young age left lasting scars; to this day, my siblings and I suffer from chronic back and chest problems.

Poverty touched every part of our lives. We frequently had to beg for food from house to house, often being turned away with harsh words: “Learn to budget your own food if you’re going to keep begging!” But we had no money, so we didn’t even know what a budget was. Many nights, we simply went to sleep hungry. I will never forget my brother waking up crying in the middle of the night because he had dreamed of a table overflowing with food, only to wake up and find nothing but the ashy water my mother used to cook wild vegetables. Poverty is truly a joy-stealer and a family-breaker; it drives people to despair and makes them question God’s sovereignty. Plagued by hunger and sickness, we grew thin, but medicine and hospitals were luxuries we could never afford.

Tragically, history repeated itself in our family. When my older sister had to drop out of school due to lack of fees, she became pregnant, and my grandmother forced her to marry an older man simply because he had food in his house.

In 1994, after more than ten years away, my father returned home gravely ill and passed away in 1996. Just three years later, my mother died from the same killer: HIV/AIDS.

Grace and a Second Chance

Yet, even in our darkest hour, God’s grace prevailed. He sent good Samaritans, a compassionate couple who fostered my brother, my sister, and me. God orchestrated this turning point so that I could live to tell my story, a testimony of His faithfulness and power. They put us through school and gave us a second chance at life.

In 2003, when I was 17 years old and in Form 2 of high school, God gave me a life-changing vision. I saw a woman covered in a black hijab. She was deeply downcast and sorrowful. As I approached her, I could feel the immense weight of her brokenness and grief. Her heart was so shattered that she felt she had nothing left to offer her children. In that moment, God spoke to my heart: He wanted me to reach out to her and remind her of her true value, that she is a deeply loved princess in the eyes of the Father, precious beyond her brokenness.

A Calling to Restore Broken Women

God placed this heavy burden for women in my heart because I lived through that same struggle. I know the pain of sleeping on an empty stomach, the desperation of searching for work to feed children, and the ache of feeling unloved and rejected. My grandmother had even tried to marry me off at age eight and sent me to work as a housemaid, constantly reminding me that I was a burden. I know what it feels like to believe your dreams are dead and that the world is against you.

God began preparing me early to walk alongside hurting women. In high school, I served as a social worker and counselor prefect. During university, I did outreach in nearby village homes. My love for children naturally led me to their mothers, aunts, and grandmothers. I have always been drawn to the broken and hurting, and by God’s grace, they find comfort and safety in my presence.

God reminded me that graveyards are full of untapped talents and unfulfilled dreams, gifts that were never shared because those women were never given a chance. Many women die crushed by their pain. I resolved to be God’s instrument of hope, helping others see the beauty and potential in hurting women through partnerships with compassionate, God-fearing people.

Living Out the Purpose

The ministry God birthed in my heart at a young age is now coming to life through Women of the Way Ministries Uganda. If God had not allowed me to walk through those dark valleys, this vision would not exist. God has a purpose in everything. The deepest desire and cry of my heart is that God uses this ministry to draw women close to Him, heal their deep wounds, lead them to salvation, and teach them how to let go and let God.