Restoring the Future for Abandoned Teen Mothers

The air in Mukono was thick and sweet with the scent of ripening jackfruit. I found them not at the community center, but in the clearing behind it, where a thick, hand-braided rope hung from a mighty mango tree.

Shanita, in her bright pink dress, was a blur of motion, kicking off from the dusty earth with a shriek of pure joy. Her brother, Peter, watched patiently, his hands clasped, waiting his turn. Their older sister, Patricia, stood by the trunk, the unofficial engineer, giving pushes.

“Auntie! Watch me!” Shanita cried, spotting me. She soared, the rope groaning a familiar song.

A year ago, their mother, local farmer, could barely afford school meals. Our small grants program helped her start a poultry project. The reports noted “increased household income.” The reports said nothing of this.

Patricia smiled as I approached. “The rope was my idea,” she said softly. “We used the money from Mum’s first eggs to buy it.”

Peter finally took his turn, swinging silently, a serene smile on his face as he touched the sky.

I stood there, the dust settling on my shoes. We helped put food on their table. But with their full bellies and secure hearts, they had built this: a simple, glorious thing for laughter. They had obtained from our charity not just in survival, but in joy.

Shanita ran over and pressed her dusty, happy face against my side. In that touch, I felt the true return on our work. Not just sustainability, but the sound of a child’s laugh, swinging freely into a future they were now brave enough to enjoy.
Thanks everyone for this joy of our children.
Best regards,
Seguya Ivan
Founder f ssibu mission foundation