Irene’s Pilgrimage into self: Tracing the reason...in bits

Namugongo - Uganda

Irene is one of the contemporary Kenya’s Roman Catholic youths who live in a secularized society. Luckily for her, with her many travels abroad, she has gained enough exposure, to help quench her incisive desire to know and to deepen in her faith.

Interestingly for her, despite her globe-trotting record, there is one neighbouring fascinating place that she has been yearning to visit. She embarks on a pilgrimage that would help her make a much needed journey into herself.

Here is Irene’s story as she tells it in her own way:

I had never thought of going for a pilgrimage save for maybe Fatima, Lourdes, Guadeloupe, Egypt or Israel and more so for travel adventure - and that is in my dreams, perhaps:)

I was brought up a Christian- a Catholic and confirmed at about the age of 12 years.  However, I can't say that I have always been a ‘full-force Catholic’ all my life. All along my student days, I struggled with questions that I rarely got answered or guided by people who would not judge me. Since High School days, I consider myself spiritual but not religious to some extent.

I attended non denominational Bible studies (we had so many fun sessions) at High School but I can truly say that as much as I wrote down and memorized, so did I also not understand the Bible. For most of my young adult life, I read the Bible but it never made sense.

So, why I'm I writing about this? Because I'm trying to trace my decision to go on a pilgrimage to Namugongo in June 2013. For some time, I used to find Holy Mass very boring, after leaving the church buildings; by evenings I would forget all what the sermon was all about. This was very frustrating for me.

Anyway to cut my story short, in the course of 2012, I remember lacking sleep and praying asking God to avail Himself to me because I was even unable to pray at many occasions. I have many friends who are born again evangelicals and it is from my interaction with them and from some yearning deep within me that I sought to have an active prayer life. I would join the Bible study and was amazed at their fellowship and sense of community. I loved it. I was yearning to have such a fellowship but although I attend Holy Mass in various parishes within Nairobi, I have never joined any community. I find the reception cold for those who'd like to join most parishes and indifferent in some extent. I'm careful to join a Small Christian Community where I would be judged for my many strange questions on faith and rites and all.

But as God would have ordained it, a Jesuit friend of mine directed me to join Christian Life Community. It was not easy starting the group. Members' commitment was sporadic but we did not give up. The group has now grown from the teething stage and we thank God. I think that my Jesuit friend also prayed for me as I had requested him because slowly I found myself wanting to read about the saints, on Catholic faith and going for Holy Mass. I also have a priest friend who revealed to me that he had said his day's rosary and a Holy Mass with my intentions - that God would give me peace as my name means in Greek. Over time, I even started praying Novenas, something I don't remember doing in the last 20 years or so.

Surely, I knew that my feeble prayers and those of the people who probably knew how to pray better were being answered. I promised myself that in the Year of Faith I was going to do a reflection, a retreat and a pilgrimage as a way of thanksgiving to God for giving me peace and grace to yearn for Him and to find Him. In December 2012, I planned to make a lone travel on bus across Namugongo (Uganda), Kibeho (Rwanda)  and to Buta (Burundi) but I was advised that the trip would be too long and some of my hosts changed their plans during the Christmas holidays so I trashed my plans albeit with a beaten heart. I used the money I had saved for other noble courses.

In the month of May 2013, the time dedicated to Our Lady, I started receiving e-mail blog posts on faith from a former colleague whose work I admire. I remember her piece on a group of French Carmelite martyrs.  I read on Marian shrines, martyrdom and various articles on Catholic faith. Somehow within me, there was this feeling that there are local cases of people who have stood for their faith, even unto death in Africa and I thought that we in East Africa were particularly lucky to have the Ugandan martyrs site, the site of apparitions of Our Lady of Kibeho in Rwanda and at Buta, Burundi - all insightful places for Christians.

And so I planned to visit Namugongo on the day of Martyrs of Uganda on 3rd June. I remember being hesitant (I always get a certain phobia before I travel), thinking that perhaps I should visit our very own Subukia Shrine here in Kenya but I decided to go to Uganda anyway since I had visited as part of our college's pro-life group in 2005.

Uganda: Katonda Mulungi

My excitement on my visit to Uganda was especially because I was going to be hosted by one of my best girlfriends. She is a creative and moved to Uganda in late 2011 to start a new life. And although it was not an easy start for her, we prayed together and it has been wonderful seeing God elevating her and fulfilling the desires of her heart over the years. She is such an inspiration! A great new friend escorted me to the bus stop, and after several false starts after about an hour, we finally left Nairobi. I arrived in Kampala on a Saturday mid morning after a sort of scary bus ride (I loathe speed and night speeds are scarier!), I was lucky to be picked by one of my hosts who took me to Turskys Deli where we bought some food. I showered, ate and spent the afternoon sleeping and waking up. I was delighted to a nice supper with my friend's buddies from church who came over that evening.  The Ugandan friends were quite startled to learn that I visited Kampala at such a time in order to visit Namugongo for the vigil on the eve of the Ugandan Martyrs Day and for the Holy Mass on 3rd June. It is normal to often take local things for granted. What's more, one of them was very generous and gave me a ticket to a romantic love concert at their church that was happening on the evening of 3rd June. My time in Kampala seemed to be taking the right gear...

Namugongo

I left Kisaasi the area where I stayed on a motorcycle 'bodaboda' taxi. Abi my driver was very careful. I have a phobia for motorcycle taxis and their reckless ways back here in Nairobi, in fact I only use them if there is no alternative. After careful instructions from my hosts, Abi rode the cycle carefully all the way up to Namugongo. It was a cold evening and this must have been my longest bodaboda ride! The Uganda Police who were very professional in handling the many pilgrims, had prohibited automobiles from driving into the road that leads to the Namugongo shrine. Abi parked his bodaboada outside a supermarket after negotiating with a security guard, he then took my handbag on his left shoulder and held my right hand taking me through the crowded road full of pilgrims for a kilometer or so up to the gate of the shrine and did not leave until I was in the women's queue that lead to the security check. This is a very rare thing among our bodaboda men back here in Kenya-such chivalry is unheard of, my heart melted and I tipped him an equivalent of Kenya shillings that I would have paid for that trip!

Ugandan Martyrs Day 2013

On the eve of 3rd June 2013, there were seas (not oceans) of people getting into the shrine. I was all alone, unafraid and my heart was so warm, I knew I wanted to be here and just pray and speak to God. I roamed around the shrine compound with my handbag on the shoulder and camera on the right hand, I was excited at seeing how pilgrims from various dioceses across East Africa were seated in groups praying and singing in different languages.

I wanted to take pictures but the lighting was poor and my small frame would be kicked around and so I ended up frustrated with a series of blurred images that I quickly deleted. Inside the shrine building, there were Holy Masses ongoing one after another in different languages. I looked for a cemented spot near a tent that lay right across the exit of the chapel so I could get a chance to get in during the Swahili mass.

It happened that I sat next to a middle aged man from Democratic Republic of Congo who was also waiting for the Swahili Holy Mass. I laid out my shawl and started praying, first in continuing novena and while in the middle of my prayers, I could not help but just shed tears of joy, of thanksgiving - There is just so much to thank God for.

There was an old man and his niece seated next to me, they came from Western Uganda and we joined in praying the rosary. I think it was in Lunyankore but I loved it. The Congolese man bought us the pilgrims' magazine that was being hawked around and at one point I started reading the stories of the martyrs - all I can remember is love, faith and courage standing out in the stories of the young page-boys and their catechists that were killed by slow burning on the orders on Buganda's king Mutesa in 1883. I asked God for that courage to walk in steadfastly in my steps of faith...the old man was also generous and gave us banana wine (I think it was meant to be fermented juice) so we could keep awake! I had intended not to eat anything during my time at the shrine and to instead pray and receive Holy Communion.

It was finally dawn and by 4AM, all Holy Masses were done and the chapel was crossed. I never got a chance to get in. L I was already frantically looking for a place to freshen up and get ready for Mass and secure a good place to sit under a tree shade during Mass.

The mass on the next day was animated by the Archdiocese of Mbarara  that lies on Western Uganda. Beauty cannot express this Eucharistic Celebration. It was full of joy. Christians, including Anglicans (there are Anglicans who were martyred at the site too) gathered for the Mass and we sang songs in Luganda and Lunyankore; it was easy to do so as the magazine had all the readings and songs for the special mass. There were pilgrims from Kenya (like me J), all parts of Uganda, Tanzania, DR Congo, Burundi, Rwanda, South Sudan, South Africa, Nigeria, Swaziland, Australia, Italy, USA etc.

All I can say is that I have never seen such a gathering of faithful. It was such a blessing. I encourage every Catholic who has intentions to make a point of visiting Namugongo on this special day of the year. I was blessed beyond measure, words cannot explain the experience. I would like to thank my dear friends for their support on this journey, my parents for their encouragement and ultimately to my dear God.

On a final note, my other bodaboda man who took me from Kisaasi to the Modern Coast bus stop was curious to know why I had visited Uganda and upon hearing my answer, he asked me, "How come I did not see you there?", anyway, it was his way of saying that he was at the event too! How many boadaboda men back here even spare time to go for Holy Mass or services? I'm not being judgmental but I have seen and heard of bodaboda men who spend their entire week on the trade, chewing miraa and doing cheap drugs or engaging in crime and never sparing time for faith. A big-up to these Ugandan bodaboda men who spend the Ugandan public holiday of 3rd June with their God…