It all began on a quiet Sunday morning, just like any other, except this one was filled with emotion. Some volunteers were crying, others were talking softly, and it already felt like everyone was starting to miss each other. As for me, my heart was full of fear. I didn’t know what was waiting for me or how everything would turn out.
Soon we were on the road from Kigali to Gisagara, and with every passing mile, my fear grew. One by one, the volunteers I traveled with were welcomed by their host families, leaving me feeling even more uncertain. The journey felt long, and my heart raced as I wondered what awaited me.
When I finally arrived, my host mom was waiting with open arms. She hugged me tightly and said, “Welcome, my daughter.” Her warmth and gentle words slowly eased my fear, and for the first time, I felt safe and at home. Not long after, my host dad came rushing in to see me. He already knew I was arriving that day but had not been home when I got there. He also hugged me and said, “God has given me another beautiful daughter.” He was so happy, and both of them were full of joy. In that moment, I no longer felt like someone who had come from far away; I felt like a real member of the family.
After welcoming me, my host dad showed me my room. It was spotless, neatly arranged, and smelled fresh. Dinner was ready, and we ate together, sharing stories. Later, my host mom brought me warm water to wash, guiding me gently. After washing up, I went to my room, feeling safe, cared for, and truly at home for the first time.
In the morning, I woke up early like a responsible daughter, ready to help with the house chores. I wanted to sweep the compound, but I found that my host mom had already finished sweeping. I washed the dishes and mopped the floor. When I stepped outside, I heard her calling my older siblings, saying, “God has blessed me, my daughter has done all the chores for me. If you had come earlier, you wouldn’t even notice that this is the same house!” She said that because she usually lived alone. All her children were married, and her youngest was away visiting an older sibling.
After that, she sat with me and told me not to work too hard or tire myself, but slowly she started allowing me to help more and more. Later on, she began taking me around my site, introducing me to the local leaders. Little by little, I found myself becoming part of the larger Gisagara community. During my stay with my host family, I quickly became part of the home. While they worked in the distant fields, I stayed behind to clean, cook, and care for the animals. Every evening, my host mom would sit with me and teach me about the local culture, and soon the place felt familiar.
We often worked together on their tomato farm, and sometimes I even went alone to water or spray the crops. I did it with love, as if it were my own responsibility.
My time with my host family was unforgettable. I witnessed the deep love and care of parents, felt truly welcomed, and learned to embrace life in a new community. What began with fear and uncertainty grew into gratitude, happiness, and memories I will always cherish.
