Arriving in Uganda

After three days of travel, 11 suitcases, and 4 carry-ons, Sandi and I finally arrived in Uganda on August 28th, 2024. We were exhausted, but the joy of being back made the fatigue seem insignificant. It had been eight long years since I’d last set foot in a country that has always felt like home. Our whole team—eight wonderful people—greeted us at the airport, and the welcome was so warm, it melted away much of our exhaustion. We were even presented with flowers, a beautiful touch that made us feel incredibly special.

There was a bit of a delay in getting all our luggage into the van and car (11 suitcases takes time!), but after about an hour, we finally set off towards my new home, just across the Nile from Jinja. As we drove through the familiar landscape, I was flooded with emotions. Returning after so many years was surreal. The country had changed in so many ways, and yet, it still felt like the Uganda I had come to love so deeply.

The new expressway bypassing a good portion of Kampala’s notorious traffic was a welcome surprise. For a brief moment, I thought we might actually make it through the city quickly—until we hit a traffic jam on the other side in Mukono. It’s funny how some things never change. One thing I did notice was the absence of the flickering tadobas—those small kerosene lanterns that used to light up the streets as the sun set. They’ve been replaced with small solar lamps, which are definitely safer and more sustainable, but I can’t help but miss the soft glow of the old lanterns. Still, not everything had changed

. When we passed the street vendors selling enkoko endokye (roasted chicken and chips), I couldn’t help but smile. This quintessential Ugandan fast food hadn’t disappeared, and I was more than happy to enjoy it once again.

By the time we reached home, it was very late, and both Sandi and I were ready to crash. But when we walked into our new home, we found the beds prepared with mosquito nets and fans to cool us from the humid night air. It was such a relief to see these small comforts awaiting us—it felt like a warm welcome, a reminder that this was where we were meant to be.

The next few weeks were a blur of setting up our house and adjusting to life in Uganda again. Sandi had the chance to visit the village in Mayuge, where we had worked before, and experience a church service in a rural setting. I’m not sure she was fully prepared for the length of the service or how hot it would be, but she handled it with grace. A beautiful surprise awaited her at the end of the service: a local lady gave her a rooster, a traditional gift for visitors and special occasions. It was such a meaningful gesture of hospitality, and I couldn’t help but smile at how well she was already embracing the culture.

As for me, the weeks were mostly spent immersed in grant writing. It’s grant season, after all, and there’s always plenty of work to do in that department. But amidst the busyness, I couldn’t shake the feeling of deep gratitude. I was so happy to be back in Uganda, to be reunited with my daughter, and to begin the work that Yahweh has brought me here to do. The ministry and projects ahead were exciting, and even though the days were long, I knew this is where I was supposed to be.

Returning to Uganda after so many years has been a mix of emotions—joy, nostalgia, and a few moments of bittersweet reflection. But through it all, there’s one thing I know for sure: this country will always be home to me. The changes I’ve seen are a reminder of how far Uganda has come, but the things that haven’t changed—the warmth of the people, the beauty of the land, and the familiar rhythms of life—are the things that truly make it special. I’m looking forward to the next chapter, ready to serve, and eager to see what the future holds.