I arrived in Uganda in 2004, not knowing what to expect but amongst protests by friends and family who equated the country to what they saw happening in South Africa. At that time we grew to expect the frequent loss of electricity in Uganda. We knew to bring flashlights after that first year. During my first visit I was overwhelmed when I heard people talking outside the home we were staying at. Dogs barked which added to the mysterious sounds outside my door. We left the next day to go out to the schools that had already been started. The schools catered to the first five grades. The school buildings were mud mixed with manure to slow down the drying out and leaving buildings in dust. The person we met with was Moses Ssemanda Mbuga, the senior pastor of Gospel Messengers. He had invited us into his home. Our American group consisted of four senior ladies. It didn't take long to realize the needs but it felt like an impossible task. The need was far bigger than what we could bring to them. Moses was a gentle man who had impressed our team. Moses' father had been arrested for teaching about Christ and he had spent several months in prison for daring to do so. The story involves my fifteen years traveling to Uganda as we traveled over impossible roads to reach the schools. My sister, Joy Dull, found enough money to have a well drilled the next year and the two of us traveled back over to add seven more wells before ending that project. It was then that I got involved with getting a choir started after an American had attempted a take over of the initial choir.
