What remains

Today I find myself in the same spot where our school used to be, observing a playground literally torn from the ground and placed aside. Honestly, a part of me is like good riddance, and has no regrets about its loss. For I am relieved that I have found a closure that I didn't think I needed.

They say life is about the journey, and this is precisely what it means for me.

Through the process of building the playground, I developed resilience, gained valuable lessons, made cherished memories, and built character. Though the tangible structure is now gone, I am reminded that what I invested in building can never be taken away from me.

I'm filled with mixed emotions when I think about the fact that I started a non-profit and built a playground and school that no longer exists. On the one hand, there is a sense of bitter sweetness. But on the other hand, I believe that project served its intended purpose for that specific time.

That chapter of my life has closed, hell, the book is closed and placed back on the shelf! But it remains within arm's reach for me to revisit when I need to refer back to as I write this next part.

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Radical Self Care, Radical Acceptance

For 17 years, I concealed the fact that I was a survivor of the 1994 Rwandan Genocide. I buried that trauma deep, but not deep enough. When I finally spoke my truth, it freed me a bit, and I yearned to do something that would continue to give me that sense of freedom to claim my own story. So, like any compassionate young adult, I started a nonprofit.

My journey into social impact began with a heartfelt mission. The nonprofit I founded focused on providing educational opportunities for young learners in Rwanda, a tribute to those I loved and lost. I believed that building something at home would reconnect me to my roots while helping others.

Yet, this path led me down an unexpected route, or as I humorously call it, an 'identity crisis.' I decided to pack my life into two suitcases and move from Chicago to Kigali, where, with a dedicated team, we built classrooms, organized eye-opening cultural exchange trips, and led self-development workshops for young minds in Rwanda. Yet, one of my most significant accomplishments was realizing that, although I was doing good work, it wasn't my work to do. This epiphany led me to a journey of radical self-care and radical acceptance (more on that later).

I'm not an expert, but I've been learning a lot about community building, reshaping our perspective on charity work, and grasping the transformative power it provides in enabling us to live authentically.

Now that you've learned a bit more about me, why not stay for the ride? Join me on this journey of growth, let’s engage in meaningful dialogue, and together, let's build a dope ass community.

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