What I Saw In Uganda

I returned recently from a few weeks in Uganda—my first trip back in about two and a half years, which is a really long time for me.

The last time I was there, Otem Collective’s family strengthening programs in Kole District were still just an idea. We had completed a baseline study, were meeting with village leaders and community members, assessing needs, and trying to thoughtfully build something rooted in what families actually needed. The programs were still a dream.

It took months (honestly, years) of planning before we officially launched our first Parent Support Groups in June 2024. So this trip was incredibly meaningful because it was my first time returning to the villages since the programs launched and my first opportunity to see the impact in person.

And what I saw was incredible.

We visited the four villages where Otem Collective is working in Northern Uganda, and in every village, we were welcomed with songs, dancing, and overwhelming joy. We hadn’t told the villages I was coming or asked anyone to prepare anything. These celebrations happened completely on their own.

One village even performed a hilarious skit comparing a family who had gone through our programs with one who hadn’t, showing the transformation they’ve experienced in a way that had all of us laughing.

But underneath the joy was something much deeper: real change.

In one village, we’re currently working with 53 families. Since the programs began, 17 of those families are building, or have already completed, brick homes. Families told us they never imagined this would be possible. Life used to be about surviving the immediate need; they were focused on figuring out where the next meal would come from or how to pay school fees. Now, they are planning for the future, dreaming bigger, and building.

We heard story after story of lives changing. Women shared that before the program, many would arrive at meetings with bruises from violence at home. Now, they show up with smiles. Parents talked about reducing alcohol use, improving relationships in their homes, and using money differently—investing in school fees, savings groups, and their futures. Families aren’t just surviving; they’re beginning to thrive.

And you can physically see the difference as you walk through the villages. New homes are rising where there once were only grass-thatched huts. But beyond the visible changes, there was something else I noticed: joy. A lightness. Hope. Smiles that felt different from what I remembered.

One moment from the trip will stay with me for a long time.

As we reached the turnoff to one of the villages, it started pouring rain. A group of women came running out of a nearby house and escorted our vehicle down the muddy road for nearly ten minutes, cheering and singing the entire time despite the downpour (check out the video below). Bruno, our Director in Uganda, looked over at me and said, “Wow. This is love.”

I teared up.

And when we arrived, we got out and danced with them in the rain.

I’ll be honest, this work is hard. Harder than I ever imagined in some ways. There have been plenty of nights I’ve woken up at 3 a.m. carrying the weight of decisions, fundraising, and the question every nonprofit leader asks at some point: Is this worth it?

Standing in that rain, the answer felt undeniable. Yes.

As we left each village, we were given chickens, jackfruit, and massive bunches of bananas. These gifts were symbols of appreciation and respect. Our Ugandan Board Chair told me he had never seen anything like that level of appreciation before, and it was deeply humbling for me. I don’t share that to brag. I share it because I want you to know this: the people we serve are deeply grateful, and your support is making a real difference.

Next month, we’ll launch our third round of Parent Support Groups, welcoming around 100 new caregivers into the program. During the village meetings, many of those future participants were there, eager for the same transformation they’ve seen in their neighbors’ lives.

Two years ago, these programs were only an idea. Today, families are healing, homes are being built, hope is growing, and children are staying where they belong: in families.

Thank you for believing in this work and for making stories like these possible. We’re all so grateful for you.