Never in my youth did I plan on visiting Turkana, and even less did I imagine that I would be living here. I did not even think that I would be able to speak and write in other languages apart from English and Kiswahili. And this was an absolutely new world that was opened to me thanks to the Missionary Community of St. Paul the Apostle (MCSPA) and especially Fr. Francisco Andreo, the founder, and Fr. Francis Teo, who invited me to participate in their vision and experience. Thus I was able to see things differently and discover in my life the value of directing my gaze towards others and to help them, in small gestures, to discover Jesus in this way: “Because I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me to drink; I was homeless and you gave me a shelter; I was naked and you clothed me; sick and you visited me; in prison and you came to see me.” (Mt. 25:35-36)

In those times, travelling for two days by road was something unimaginable which only a few crazy people would have done. In addition, it was very adventurous to go to a place like Turkana taking into account that people from the southern part of Kenya, like me, do not know its history or culture, and that most of us find it difficult to recognize it as a part of Kenya.

I grew up in Nairobi and was fortunate enough to belong to a generous and very Catholic, middle class family (as they are described these days). My parents had to work very hard to make sure that their children enjoyed a decent education, have food on the table every day and that they grow to be good and God-fearing people.

Living in this environment, I grew up believing in certain values: there was need to study hard, get good results, look for a good job, help our parents and siblings so that they have a good life, get married and continue doing the same with our children, and they with their children. I did not think that I could see things from a different perspective. But this journey to Turkana helped me to undo the prejudices that I had, including towards my own family, like for example, that we were the poorest in the neighbourhood because we did not own a car or did not eat meat every week. It was only when I saw the poverty that was in Turkana, I realized that we were very privileged indeed!

I knew about the MCSPA through my cousin George Ouma, who in those days was living with the missionaries, with Fr. Francis in particular – and he wanted to be a priest like the other missionaries. He came to my home and narrated to us what he was doing in Turkana and from then on, I felt a great urge to go there too. This was only to know this interesting but strange place called Turkana.

The journey was very, very long. The two days of travelling appeared unending and I thought that we would never arrive. Fr. Fernando Aguirre was driving a 4-wheel drive vehicle. It was my first time to ride in a 4-wheel drive vehicle apart from only seeing them in movies! The car, filled to the brim with foodstuff, medicines, furniture, chicks, saplings with only a little space in which we fit four people in the pick-up. We travelled with some Turkana boys namely, Napocho, Ekalukan and Morita. They explained to me little details about Turkana. These stories gave me the morale and illusion to continue with the journey and slowly by slowly, I overcame the initial fear and prejudices about this very remote area.

I remember we stopped somewhere during the journey and Fr. Fernando, Natalia, one of the lay missionaries, and the boys brought out a basket, and all of a sudden we made a wonderful improvised picnic with Spanish omelette, bacon, mangoes and water – a complete meal! This was another small gesture that made me change my way of thinking and helped me look at things in a different way. I never thought of carrying food during a trip, I always thought that one could stop and go to the shop and buy it. To my surprise, Fr. Fernando told me: “Even if you had the money, where are the shops to buy? If you want to be a good missionary, you have to be prepared to think of others first before yourself.”

As we approached Turkana, I realised that the landscape had become very dry and sparse as we could only see some camels and goats crossing the road once in a while and small groups of huts made of sticks and branches. The boys explained to me that those were the houses of the people, and I thought to myself, “But where are they taking me? This appears like the end of the world!” 

Finally we arrived at Nariokotome Mission. There, after two days of travelling, I said: “Finally we are at home”. We offloaded everything from the car and I was taken to a house by one of the women missionaries who told me, “This is your room, please take a shower. We will have lunch in an hour’s time and later you will go to rest.” I gave a sigh of relief … and retired to my room!

Some few minutes later, I heard a call of “Emergency! Emergency!” When I looked out through the window, I saw Natalia, who was a medical doctor as well, running towards the car. I went out and inquired what was happening. She told me “Board the car and let’s go! We are going to see to a pregnant woman who is unable to give birth.” I went into the car and she drove – like one doing the Safari Rally competition – up to Riokomor in the mountains. It was a very bumpy ride. On arrival, we met a pregnant woman who had been in labour for two days without delivering; she was very anaemic and did not have much strength. Dr. Natalia took the “basket” of the car and prepared tea with a lot of sugar, gave it to the lady to drink, and we then put her into the vehicle and hurried back to Nariokotome Mission because the main dispensary is located there.

After forty minutes bouncing along on the track, those at the back of the pick-up shouted to us to stop. When we alighted to see what the commotion was all about, we discovered that the baby had already been born! I understood nothing at that time, but I was just very happy because the lives of the mother and baby were no longer in danger. When we arrived at Nariokotome, Natalia explained to me that thanks to the cup of very sweet tea that she had given the mother to drink and all the bumping around of the car, the mother was able to gather sufficient strength to muster the contractions and to give birth.

Since small details such as these occurred severally during my stay there, they definitely made me look at things in their proper perspective and see things differently from how I did before.

I was in the mission for two months helping in whatever way I could: in the kitchen, in the garden, at the mobile clinic and nutritional centre, cleaning etc. In summary, I was doing many things that I had not done before in my own home. From the first day, I felt more as one of the community rather than a visitor, despite the fact that they were people from different countries: Kenyans, Colombians, Venezuelans, and Spanish. There was something that united them: they all loved.

I went back to Nairobi and began to study. Six months later after my experience in Turkana, when I had already forgotten that way of life that I had experienced, my cousin George arrived again and asked me if I would like to go for a Mass in which the missionaries had invited me. Although I had already been for mass, I went again. There, I met again Fr. Paco and Fr. Francis. It was a simple Mass with a few persons. However, I felt something that I do not know how to explain. Something happened within me that took me back to the same happiness that I experienced during those first two months when I was in Turkana.

At that moment, I could not tell whether I had a missionary vocation. But this happiness, the importance of learning the concerns of others and directing one’s look towards the other were things that made me think again as to what I wanted to do and be in life. Through these small experiences that I have narrated, I discovered the treasure that was in Turkana with the Missionary Community of St. Paul the Apostle. The invitation to the Mass in Nairobi that weekday, the motivation from Frs. Paco and Francis to think of me and being concerned about inviting me, and later the spark that lit this flame inside me, and which slowly by slowly was fanned alive by people who thought not only of themselves, but rather wished to share their happiness with me and others. I believe that the combination of these small gestures, people and motivations ended up awakening this missionary call in me. If they would not have invited me to this Mass, I think I would have ended up doing what everybody else does: study, work, help the family, get married and have children. I thank Francis for inviting me to that Mass which eventually moved something in me!

This call within me, intensified by the people who have surrounded me during these 20 years, has been the motivation that made me into who I am and be where I am now, in the Mission of Nariokotome. 

I would wish that God illumines and gives me the strength to be able to share all that I have learnt along this road, as it is said in the prayer of St. Francis of Assisi: “Make me a channel of your peace.”All that I do is first of all to thank God for giving me life, to my family, to the Missionary Community of St. Paul the Apostle and also the support and help that comes from my friends in Spain, Kenya, Singapore, Malaysia, Germany … They support us with their friendship, prayers and material assistance in order to do all these works.

During these years I have lived a multitude of experiences, sometimes good and sometimes bad. I have visited and lived in many different countries (Ethiopia, Colombia, Germany) with different people. I speak different languages, and all these have made me into a humble and, I would like to believe, a better person. It has also moved me to try and share my happiness with other persons of encountering Jesus in others through small gestures. I hope that my experience will help others encounter this same happiness, always carrying God’s smile to all places.

Lillian Omari, MCSPA

I left my parents’ home in Malaysia when I was 14 years in order to go to study in Singapore. I got a scholarship from the government of Singapore and I eagerly left to live on my own in another country. One might say that I tried to live intensely … wanting to do as many things as possible, to try out and experience all things possible, to fall in and out of love, to question my religious beliefs and to test my relationship with God.

After Hwa Chong Junior College (senior high school for A-Levels), which was – and still is – one of the more prestigious educational institutions in Singapore, like several of my fellow classmates, I went on to read law at the National University of Singapore (N.U.S.). Again, I lived life intensely in the positive and negative senses! It was the two years at NUS that I entered into spiritual and emotional turmoil. It was a time of “disenchantment” with everything. In my first year holidays, I travelled to Turkey and spent a great deal of time there and hitch-hiked across Europe – times were so different then – from Diyarbakir in Eastern Turkey to Dingle in Ireland. Then the second year, I went alone to trek in the North West Frontier Province of Pakistan. I was opened to the world and its peoples. I found it hard to return to a life enclosed by four walls. The routine and the mundane killed my spirit. I questioned many things that I had taken for granted all my life – relationships, goals in life, God. I longed for the freedom and open spaces. I felt a great and deep emptiness in my life, and yet I could not put my finger as to what exactly it was. It depressed me, and made me lose interest in my studies and in the prospects of a life as a lawyer. I was 21 years old.

Then came the great famine in East Africa with Ethiopia being especially hit. Bob Geldof was mobilizing food relief with “Feed The World”. Even at the N.U.S. we did our part to raise funds to send to Ethiopia. Some of us from Law Faculty actually danced at a concert! While it was good to be doing something for a cause, I felt that it was insufficient … I had to do something more. What hit me most was the famous photo of the emaciated child with a vulture standing nearby. 

It was then that I decided that I would travel to Africa. That second year of Law School was especially turbulent for me. I had almost lost all interest in studies. Instead I became more and more interested in Africa. I would spend hours in the libraries of the university, looking up books on Africa – its geography, politics, history, anthropology etc. I read widely and took notes of the countries on the continent. And I began to plan for a trip there.

Naturally, when the final exams for 2^ndYear came, I failed impressively. All my friends extended their condolences, and my parents were devastated. But I lost just one night’s sleep because the next day, I decided with all clarity of mind and unity of purpose, that I would leave the university and go to Africa to discover something … what, I still did not know!

Then the movie The Mission hit the screens, and this moved me even more to question what I was doing with my life. How could I be content with what I had around me without doing anything for the many who had less. After I happily dropped out of the university, I went to help at the camp for the Vietnamese “Boat People” at Sembawang that existed then. I found deep satisfaction in that. 

I realised that I had to earn money to sustain me if I were ever to make it to Africa. My father would not support me financially for obvious reasons. I had to give private tuition for many hours each day to earn and save the money I needed. I began to work out a plan: I would spend two years travelling across Africa and enter Europe through Spain and end up in Belgium to study journalism. And along the way, I would work as a volunteer at a mission for some months. It all sounded fantastic!

A close friend of mine was studying at the Royal College of Surgeons in Ireland at the time. At my request, she sent me a list of 23 missions in Africa that had some kind of health facility. Little did I know then that there were thousands of missions all over Africa! I wrote to all 23 and I was sure that they would be so keen to welcome a young man from Singapore to volunteer work there … but no one replied except one. It was the Bishop of Lodwar Diocese in Turkana in Kenya. I looked up the Collins Atlas that I had at home and “Lodwar” didn’t appear on the map of East Africa, and I thought, “This must be the place!” I still have this first letter from Bishop John Mahon, and I treasure it. He invited me over to visit Lodwar and to work at a mission called Lowarengak Catholic Mission in the north of the diocese on the border with Ethiopia. With that, I gave away everything I had; the few things that I thought were absolutely dear to me, I stashed away in a carton box. Thirty two years later, that box is still in the store of my parent’s home … 

My parents were concerned about me – where was I heading to, existentially and professionally? What future was I carving out from all this? They tried to advice and guide; they never pushed. They weren’t happy with my decision to leave the N.U.S. and go to Africa. There were so many reasons for objecting: a dismal prospect for the future; the dangers of traveling to and in Africa; all that wasted time etc. But when they saw that I was adamant, I think they realised that I needed the time to seek. 

I bought a large map of Africa, framed it and hung it up on the wall at their home so that they would be able to follow my movement across Africa, so I figured. I left Malaysia and Singapore in 1987 and went Europe, then to Cairo and finally into Nairobi, the capital city of Kenya. 

Throughout this initial part of the trip, I was alone but I never felt lonely. I missed my family but not my former life. I looked forward to the unknown in Africa with my whole heart and embraced each day and the surprises that it brought. I kept my parents updated about my movements. Phone calls were expensive. I had to write long letters and send it to them by snail mail! In those days, I could only receive mail from them by “post restante” at local post offices of cities where I passed by. My dad, I learnt many years later, looked forward to news from me, and he studied every word and every sentence carefully so as to glean a clearer picture of the circumstances that were shaping his son’s life. And my mother, I knew, kept praying for me throughout.

From Nairobi, I went up to the Turkana region about 1,000 km away to the north. Turkana land is a semi-desert into which I first entered hitching a ride on a lorry that was filled to the top with sacks of maize and beans. I was perched above those sacks together with a traditional Turkana man (dressed only with a blanket and a headgear with feathers) and his family – they were the first Turkanas I met. I still recall, as the lorry made its way across the yellow plains of Turkana dotted with scrub and thorn trees towards Lodwar town, the freedom and happiness in my heart because at last I was moving along in my dream to be in Africa.

I have never for a single moment regretted my decision to go to Africa, to chose a different path, to make that total change in my life. I could not and still cannot imagine how my life would have been if I had not dared take those steps. 

When I reached Lodwar, I made my way to “the Diocese” which was the hill where the bishop lived and the diocesan offices were located. It was the center of much activity as the Church was a key player in the relief effort and development work in Turkana ever since the 1960s. Bishop John Mahon, an Irish missonary, was a pioneer missionary to Turkana. He was surprised to see me standing in front of his door that day in December of 1987 – never in his wildest dreams did he envisage a young man from Malaysia actually making his way there. 

I was even more surprised at our first meeting: the good bishop was in shorts and boots, and constantly surrounded by children and workers. He was a canon lawyer by training and also a builder. All over Turkana, Bishop Mahon personally built schools, dispensaries, a hospital, churches, convents … In him, I learnt that Christ was to be found in the person, and not in all the laws and regulations and restrictions. We have so many of those in the Catholic Church that even a Pharisee would be proud!

Bishop Mahon’s favourite verse from Scripture was Luke 4, the part when Jesus reads quoting Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim the good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”

He did this literally: feeding the hungry, educating the downtrodden, giving work to those bowed down, building a hospital to cure the sick and a school for the blind … I learnt that the gospels were not just mere words! Action was needed too!

After our first meeting in Lodwar, in December 1987, Bishop Mahon asked me to go to the mission of Lowarengak in the north. There was no public transport there – these were extremely remote places then and still are to this day. So I got a lift on a diocesan lorry bringing relief food to Lowarengak village. There, I met for the first time a Spanish woman who turned out to be a nurse belonging to a group of missionaries from Spain. Cecilia Puig and other members of the lay community were very welcoming, and I felt at home with them instantly. It was my first contact with persons who would eventually become known as the Missionary Community of St. Paul the Apostle. 

I accompanied them on their mobile clinics around and talked extensively about many things. Those conversations planted the seed of a vocation in me. A few months later, I met the priest who started this community, Fr. Francisco Andreo. People called him Fr. Paco or simply, Paco, as he prefered to be called. 

Paco was never indifferent to the needs and suffering of others. He moved those around him to find solutions to situations of need that other persons were in, to solve problems. And Paco constantly called others to leave everything behind and to follow a life of service. And I was included in that invitation which he made so passionately and intensely such that I couldn’t say no! But it was an acceptance that matured and grew more profound with time. It was through Paco that I began to understand the gospels, life in a community and as a family. I began to get a glimpse of what being a priest and a missionary was all about, but this understanding had to be deepened and widened with time. I was 24 years old then and already I had been drawn into a life of caring for others – the children, the hungry, the sick, the elderly, the youth – and looking after them from head to toe. 

And thus I began to live my life as a missionary with the Missionary Community of St. Paul the Apostle. Paco couldn’t stand to see a hungry child, and so all the day’s events and life in the mission was to see how there would be food – how to produce, to cultivate, to rear and grow … fruit, crops, animals. We needed water in that semi-arid land, and so we worked to drill boreholes, build dams … All this taught us to work to provide for the people who were thirsty and hungry. And thus our missions developed into centres of agricultural production, and water resource development.

Life was not easy, certainly. Conditions were harsh, back-breaking almost. Those were the early days when we were just establishing the missions, setting things up. Everything was a challenge … even making a phone call! But I took it all in and enjoyed life – the people, the work, the challenges, community life, the discovery of the gospels in relation to my daily life. It was like “a revelation to the Gentiles”!

I realised much later that my parents would object and oppose certain decisions of mine, but when they saw that I was certain of my decision, then they would relent. That I wanted to live in Africa already meant too many uncertainties for my parents, especially my late father. Now, their son wanted to be a priest IN AFRICA … goodness, that was too much! 

I remember my father pleading with me, “Be a priest here!” But I argued that my roots were in Turkana; that I discovered my vocation there with this Community, in the milieu of the Turkana landscape and people, and under the Bishop of Lodwar. I could not cut off my roots and be transplanted elsewhere!

When I was ordained a priest, my dad was with a full-blown cancer of the bone, and my mother had to remain at home to look after him. They could not attend my ordination which was on August 15^th, 1997, at Nairobi, Kenya. I was ordained together with Antonio and Manolo. A month before my dad passed away, my sister called me to say that his condition was worsening. But I still did not think it was necessary to return. However Paco insisted that I leave immediately and go to take care of my father. I did so and spent a couple of weeks in the hospital with my dad. One night, I noticed that he got out of bed slowly and with great difficulty and shuffled towards the mirror. He looked at himself in the mirror and then shuffled slowly back to the bed. I asked him if he was alright. But he ignored my question and delved into something more profound. Seated on the edge of the hospital bed, he said, “Son, if I had to live my life all over again, I would be a priest like you …” I was moved and tears welled up in my eyes. I muttered, “If you did so, then I wouldn’t exist”! And he went on to say that now that he was at the end of his life, he could look back and see that all that one has done has been in vain … except the good that one does. To me, that was a confirmation that my father was truly happy and accepted my decision to be a priest in Africa. When he died in August 1999, my father’s funeral was the first I ever officiated as a priest. 

Since 2012, I have been in Manila, Philippines, where we have set up our formation house. We have our seminarians and priests studying there in preparation for work in Africa. As they follow their study programmes in philosophy and theology and other civil studies, they also help out with livelihood programmes at the Parola and Payatas slums, and with children and families from a nearby slum area. 

I am very grateful to God for many, many things in my life. If I had to live it all over again, I would go through the same thing with the same people! If I love this life of mine, then I have to be grateful to my parents, who gave me life. I am thankful for this wider family that is the Missionary Community of St. Paul the Apostle that Paco began and which God placed before me. I am totally grateful for His gift of the priesthood to me – there has not been a single moment in these last 22 years as a priest when I regreted this important decision in my life. There have been difficult and trying moments, but never any doubt at all that this has been and is the way and the life for me. I thank God for the younger men and women whom I had invited to follow in this life as a missionary … Lillian, Brian, Ambrose, Timothy, Stephen and others; they have been a source of anxiety but also great joy in their journey of being formed into women and men to serve those on the fringe of society. I am thankful for the many persons and events that God placed in my path and which have helped mould me. 

The greatest lesson which I have learnt from this life with the poor and marginalised, I think, must be the indomitable human spirit to survive, to improve and to push on despite all the odds. They teach me not to take life – and all that comes with it – for granted. It made – and continues to make – me question why some people have it all and others nothing at all. What is clear also is the amount of good that can be achieved when there is goodwill and hardwork, when each of us brings his or her 5 loaves and 2 fish. And there is no doubt about the deep and existential joy that we find in doing good for others.

Francis Teo Kian Seng, MCSPA

More than 23 years ago, when our magazine In Itinere began its first publication, I wrote an article in this same section and gave an account of the feelings and thoughts that were in me when I had then recently received the grace of priestly ordination. “The Year of Grace”. Re-reading it recently, I asked myself whether this novelty that I had in me when I received my priestly ordination is still as alive and strong today. That joy of being a priest, which over flowed when I wrote my earlier article, was it still the crux of my life? 

This year, 2019, I celebrate 23 years in the priesthood: 23 years of joy, 23 years of grace.

It is a complicated question and I should be honest with you and more so with myself. I could get by with some superficial and sweetened eulogy or praise at becoming a priest; I have heard much of this especially during the past Year for Priests recently closed by Pope Benedict XVI. I could also be caught up in a pessimistic and gloomy analysis, with neither hope nor future, precisely in a year in which the priestly order is being questioned and the value of a priest in the western world is being undermined. 

Let me start with this conclusion: Yes, 23 years of joy and grace! I think I am being honest when I say so and not because I am forced to say so or because it is theright thing to say. Had they not been years of joy and a feeling of grace inmy life, I would have made some excuse not to writethis article! By saying so, I mean that this is the honest and concise answer that arises in me in response to this question. 

Happiness has a complex meaning although we use it banally and with a poor philosophical base. In short, I think the problem lies on where in our lives do we place the experiences of pain, suffering and of our human limitations in a limitless universe. That is why we are unhappy. In most cases, we are unable to internally transform our sufferings into moments of joy in our pilgrimage of God’s plan for us. And here is my poor summary that gives meaning when I say that I am happy. 

In these 23 years, I have gone through times of happiness as well as harsh experiences of pain and suffering. The day to day life of a missionary priest, in remote lands and at the first line of evangelization such as where I am currently in the northern part of Turkana, filled with life’s constant challenges: hunger, diseases, violence, ignorance… It is tough and it toughens one up as well. However one can find happiness in seeing that one’s little contribution could help to alleviate somewhat all this pain and this gives a double joy and softens one’s heart. Believe me, it is one of sublime happiness to see a hungry child eating; or to catch the contented smile of a woman who no longer needs to walk a long distance because she now has the water source nearby; or to detect the vital energy of the youth who feels useful because of work and not condemned to live in a spiral of violence; or to catch a glimpse of the look of an elderly lady when her face lights up at your visit, or the jubilation of a community that lives and dances the hope of their renewed faith … 

Other painful experiences come as a result of losing or being separated from our loved ones. Unfortunately, I have had these experiences as well and they call for a great effort not only rationally but above all emotionally. 

Trying to build happiness on what is absent is tough, but one overcomes this with the hope placed on new dreams, in seeing that Christ still knocks on the doors of many who are willing to follow him and in the joy of seeing that God’s plan is immense and definitely happy are those who have lived and experimented it until now. 

In the 23 years there have been times of crises and feeling low. I do not believe in those who say that they have never undergone an existential or a vocational crisis. Every change in the rhythm of life, each apparent created security; every pride or falsely acquired right may shake, at one time or another, our vocation. But it is like a disease plaguing a child: every flu or malaria makes the child grow some centimetres taller. Every fall, confronted by love, is an elevation in our pilgrimage; every crisis, an opportunity to better ourselves and of humbly accepting that He, who is almighty, demands but always sustains us. 

It has been 23 years of living at various missions, in different realities, and on two continents, and finally returning to Africa, to Turkana. It has been 23 years of trying to give all to the call received, and to extend this call to others with some success and without chaos. It is also of wanting to serve others and of seeing that Christ is in the lives of those who surround me. Now, more than tired, I am hopeful and strengthened by these past years, which make me stronger and more trusting that the love of Christ will penetrate the hearts of all those whom God sends to me.

Fr. Alejandro José Campón 

Eleni Tsegaw, a member of the Missionary Community of St. Paul the Apostle, describes her vocation that arose from leaving her home country of Ethiopia and the joys that have filled her life as a missionary.

I had just finished high school and I was thinking what to do with my life, whether to continue studying at college or perhaps start working. While pondering on this, I met Cecilia from the Missionary Community of Saint Paul the Apostle (MCSPA) for the first time. She had been a year in Ethiopia to carry out projects aiding the most needy in the Valley of Angar Guten. What she was doing seemed very interesting; I wondered why she was doing this, what moved her to come from so far. Why was she helping people with whom she shared neither bonds nor connections? But I kept all these questions in my heart as I did not speak English and Cecilia could not speak Amharic! 

Cecilia suggested to me to study English so that we would be able to talk and so that she could explain to me all the things she wanted to develop in Ethiopia. I studied English for six months so as to have some spoken foundation. Then I travelled to Angar Guten to see what they were doing and what they had there. I was very impressed by all that they were doing there: they had a dispensary and a mobile clinic.

Guten, at the time, was a small village that lacked electricity, water and many other things. Initially the Oromos and the Gumuz inhabited the Valley of Angar Guten, but with the famine of the 80s, the Ethiopian government brought in other tribes from northern Ethiopia, like the Amhara and the Tigray. This made the Valley a very special place to work in, as the needs of each tribe had to be catered for. I used to walk in the afternoons with Cecilia, and the children followed us all along the way. She suggested that I do something for these children as they could not go to any nursery as there was none around and so only a few of the children could go on to primary school.

In the beginning I saw clearly that something had to be done for those children. They were in need of many things. My intention was to stay for a short period of time and then return to Addis to continue with my studies and with my life. But God had other plans. It was for me to follow Him, not just for a short time but for the rest of my life. This was something I did not understand at that time.

That first trip was very special as I got to know regions of my own country for the first time. So I returned to Addis Ababa to study child-care. All that time I could not stop thinking about the children of Angar Guten. On finishing the course, I returned with Cecilia and we started there a nursery – the first one at Guten! In fact, it is more a Centre of Life than a nursery because there is a place for everyone: children, mothers, older siblings etc. There are even Muslim children; everyone has a place there.

We carried out different activities for the children and their mothers, and I eventually got more involved in it that, unknowingly, I even forgot the idea of returning home to Addis Ababa to go on with my life. My life was now at this place, with these people – Cecilia, Paco, all the members of MSCPA.

One of the many visits of Paco to Ethiopia marked my life until today. Then he said that it was necessary for me to leave my country, at least for twenty years. I thought he was joking! He also told me that no one is a prophet in his own country. Now I know it was a way of opening my eyes. He saw in me the possibility of flying, like an eagle and being free to do good.

At the time it was very hard for me to understand the depth of this message. Now I see that it was providence: the hand of God inviting me to be part of the universal Church, to a wider, more bountiful and complex plan.

Leaving my country gave me the opportunity to travel to Bolivia and to live there for more than a year, at Santa Cruz de la Sierra and Cochabamba. There we worked at various development programmes. In Colombia I lived at La Calera, on the outskirts of Bogota, and worked in mother and child care. Afterwards I went to live in Germany with a group of young women from our community, all from Africa. In the beginning it was difficult because of the language, climate and culture. Eventually all that difficulty transformed into a gift for our lives. We learned how to move around the world, to find extraordinary friends who are still present in our lives and who keep supporting us.

During those years at Paderborn in Germany, we were never alone. Others from the community, such as Paco, would always come to visit us. They always encouraged us to push on. There we unrelentingly went about giving talks on Africa in parishes, schools and to different groups.

With each talk I realized how much I yearned to return to Kenya or Ethiopia, and how my vocation was becoming stronger. I also realized that when I gave another picture of Africa, people would fall in love with Africa and they would be ready to help. Not all in Africa is tragedy as is often portrayed in the media. It is a continent full of joy and with people who possess enormous potential, just waiting for someone to lend a hand.

Afterwards I went to live in Mexico and started from scratch once again – each new beginning was hard for me; now, I had to speak Spanish, make new friends … new house, new people. With the help of Lourdes, Rosa and the other women from the community, everything became easier and I gained a lot from those years. We worked in the neighbourhood of Ajusco, in the outskirts of Mexico City. There we worked with families who had migrated from other parts of Mexico without anything to find opportunities in the big capital.

We have always focused our interest on children because they are the most vulnerable. Hence we had a nursery, which later turned into St. Joseph’s Mother and Child Centre. I was impressed how each time we asked for help in the country, people would always respond positively and we never lacked support. Both, the Central de Abastosand private companies would donate their products for the smooth running of the Centre.

But the story does not end here. After getting used to Mexico and its people, I left once again but this time to Africa – to Kenya, to Turkana. And the story began again: new language, house, people …

When I look back, I can only say my life has been a blessing as it has been years of moving from one place to another, and it has brought me a lot of happiness. Today I want to thank everyone, especially Cecilia, because she stirred up my vocation and helped me to be strong and to follow Christ; Paco who pushed me to leave my country and showed me that I could move to anywhere, to be universal – to live anywhere with different peoples and feel that every place is home.

I now understand my vocation as a small seed that God placed in my heart, which even I did not know existed in me until I met Cecilia and she awakened it. Then others came: Paco, Lourdes, Scholastica and all the others who have helped me along this journey, who have made me strong, humble, patient, demanding … so many things that I would run out of ink in describing how much they have all contributed to my life. I would like to invite many other young persons who come to visit us in the missions to take that next step – that of staying here forever and living a fulfilled life of service for others. Because I discovered that this was the path to happiness.

Eleni Tsegaw MCSPA

I was 19 years old when I first met the Missionary Community of St. Paul the Apostle. During a Eucharist celebration, that was when I began to understand God’s immense love for us. I then realized that I didn’t just know, but at the same time felt God’s immense love in my heart. I was filled with joy!!!  I immediately felt a compassion towards all those that were in need and wanted to let them know that God really loves and cares for all of us.

I knew that proclaiming Christ is a call for all who are baptised, but the question that kept nagging me was; how was I supposed to do this? This is something many people neglect. All this should come from the heart and I believe that it is a call from God. 

My journey began as I took a walk with Patrizia Aniballi and other members of the MCSPA 19 years ago. I came to know them through Mrs. Esther Mwarabu who was working with the missionaries in Turkana. She had come to my village in Hola, Tana River County to pick one of my cousins who had earlier agreed to join the missionaries but changed her mind and refused. Esther Mwarabu then decided to visit our house so that she could talk to my mother and I about the missionary life in Turkana.  My mother agreed that I visit Turkana to see whether I liked or not and together with Esther Mwarabu we travelled to Nairobi to meet Patrizia Aniballi and then to Turkana.  Turkana was a place I only heard of in my History classes but I never bother to even check its location geographically.

I decided to be adventurous and embarked on a long journey towards Turkana. Through the journey I beganto understand that adventure is not only travelling around the world, but travelling down the roads of the hearts of people I meet every day. To me adventure is an encounter; it is a kind of love I want to lead.  Adventure is a conversion that lasts a lifetime, so incredible that it surpasses our greatest expectations.  Adventure calls for courage, which leads to hope and joy.  

Be courageous!  As St. John Paul the Great says:

 “Do not be afraid!  Open wide the doors to Christ!  Life with Christ is a wonderful adventure!” 

I remember about Esther Mwarabu’s visit to my village, I think of God’s call to live a missionary life, and my response. God issued the invitation, and I had the choice, to take it or to leave it. I will be forever grateful that I chose to follow.

When I first began considering missionary life in the beginning, I certainly wasn’t thinking about sitting it out or how I would eventually feel about the choices I would make. My questions majorly centred on what will my family and friends thought since I was not educated as Catholic but in the Methodist Church, What would my life be like as a missionary? And, finally, how do I know that Missionary life was right for me?

Some years after when I became a full member of the Missionary Community of St Paul, I went to give a missionary animation talks in one of the schools. During the talk a student asked me this question, “so Lenny, why did you became a missionary?’’ No matter how many times I’m asked this question, and in how many different ways, I’m never prepared for it. I then realized that’s because the answer has to come from the heart, not the mind alone thus it’s not easy to put into words.

When I began considering missionary life, I didn’t know exactly why I wanted to become a lay missionary. All I know is that there was an attraction inside of me that I could only express vaguely. Perhaps the reason can be found in a song called, “I hope you dance.’’ By Lee Ann Womack. It’s a song about loving, making choices to live life fully, to respond to the calls that are deep inside of us and to risk looking like a dancing fool in order to follow our deepest yearnings.

As I struggled to get in touch with my feelings, I responded, I wanted to love God as much as I could, and I felt the best way for me to do this was to be a lay missionary. My reason then and now is still the same. Love. Although it wasn’t without twists and turns, and many questions along the way, I’ve found my identity in being in MCSPA; serving God, especially towards the children, women and the elderly. I encounter each an everyday in Nariokotome Mission.

Lenny Jillo MCSPA

Looking back on how I began my vocational journey towards joining the Missionary Community of St. Paul the Apostle (MCSPA) and eventually becoming a priest, it is impossible to put the sequence of events on paper. If I am to put down each and every detail about it, then volumes of publications will be printed. I will therefore point out the land marking moments that defined the story of my vocation to the priesthood.

I went to St. Mary’s Minor Seminary in Kwale district, a minor seminary belonging to the Catholic Archdiocese of Mombasa for my Secondary education and it is in this school that I first came to know about the existence of the MCSPA. There were some students from Turkana and Tana-River who were being sponsored by the MCSPA and thus some of the members used to come to visit them. By this time no impact or sort of attention had been drawn from me towards this group since the intention was to join the archdiocese of Mombasa if at all I was to continue with the vocation to priesthood. 

The year 1998, while in Form Two (second year of my secondary education) can be defined as the year that marked the beginning of my journey with the MCSPA. This year, tragic as it was, can be called a “year of blessing in disguise”. I call it so because it is the period that my father passed on (5^thMarch 1998) and it is in the same year that I met and had some sort of lengthy and deeper dialogue with Fr. Alex Campon about my vocation and possible future plans. It was a routine in the minor seminary for the Rector (Headmaster/Principal) to invite a priest for our monthly recollection every last Saturday of the month. The June of 1998, it was Fr. Alex Campon, a priest from the Missionary Community of St. Paul the Apostle (MCSPA), who came to give us the monthly recollection. He came with another colleague priest and when the time for individual confessions came before the Mass, I happened to go to Fr. Alex and after the formal confession process, we engaged in a conversation which had to be cut short since there were other students in the line. The conversation continued later after the Mass. The death of my father created some sort of serious thought about my vocation since at one point in time I remember telling him that I would wish to serve God although at that moment I did not know in what capacity.

The end of this land mark conversation was an invitation by Fr. Alex to visit one of their missions, Wema Catholic Mission in the diocese of Malindi. This invitation was honoured during my August school holidays. I went for the first time to Wema Mission in August of 1998 in the company of Thaddeus Jilo, Dominic and Francis who were under the care of Fr. Alex during their studies at Kwale seminary. The journey was relatively long bearing in mind that the bus left Mombasa (Bondeni) at 6:30am and arrived at 3pm in Mininjila, a small shopping centre where the bus stopped for some passengers to alight since the final destination for the bus was Hola. Wema mission is 7 kilometres from Mininjila junction and there was no public transport to the mission, we had to trek the 7 kilometres to our destination. The trekking seemed long since it was the first time of my adventure to this mission.

After this visit, I was always in touch with Fr. Alex through post mail (letters) as the era of mobile phones, email and other social media technology was not so common in the Kenyan society. It was a slow type of communication but at least we got in touch. I did not go back to the mission for the rest of the years until after the completion of my Kenya Certificate of Secondary School Education (KCSE). After completing my fourth form of high school and getting the results, I worked as a casual clerk at the sea port of Mombasa in the container depot. In March of 2001, I had another meeting with Fr. Alex at the Holy Ghost Cathedral in Mombasa CBD. This meeting was to define whether I have agreed to come and see the missionary life or I would opt for another kind of life (remember I was earning my own money and paying my bills). It was a tough moment for me to make a decision since deep down in my heart I knew that I wanted to follow the missionary life yet the joy of being independent and earning a salary was also in the picture. I gave myself a span of 2 months to think over the matter; in the meantime the communication with Alex was through mobile phone so it was easier and effective. 

Fr. Alex, was patient with me. I cannot clearly say what he saw in me that made him be constantly in touch. In May 2001, I met him at our usual meeting point, Holy Ghost cathedral – Mombasa. We had a relatively long talk and this was the talk that made me make the move to go to Wema mission, not as a visiting student as it happened 3 years back, but a “come and see”, ready to taste the missionary life. Even though I had been to Wema Catholic mission, in Malindi diocese before, the arrival this time was a different one. I was going there with a purpose and a decision to make at the end; to continue with the missionary life or quit and go back home.

Life was good in the mission since the people, both in the mission and the parish, were welcoming. The native Pokomo people were good to me, they made me feel at home. With other young people in the mission and with the help of Fr. Alex and other priests around I managed to be incorporated in the daily life of the mission. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and when three months were over, I was faced with the difficult task of decision making. I knew that this is what I wanted to do, to stay and respond to the call in the capacity that God will grant me. On 16^thAugust 2001, Fr. Alex called me after breakfast for a talk in the office. He asked me a question, with a typical phrase from him, “How is it so far?” and my response was that am fine and liking the place. The next question followed, “So are you staying with us or you are going back to Mombasa?” I gave him my reply again, but this time more elaborative. I wanted to stay and contribute to the building of the Kingdom of God. I moved to the main St. Paul’s house as an indication that I had made a step and accepted to start this new journey of my life. 

I lived in Wema Mission for 6 months until December 2001 when I went to Turkana in Nariokotome. This was the longest journey I had ever done in my life. We went by road all the way from Wema to Turkana. The journey took us twoy serviry days with difficult roads and terrain coupled with a dry and hot climate of very high temperatures. I was not convinced that I would stay for long in this place. However, as days went by I saw and found a new meaning of the place and the people. The simplicity of the Turkana people moved me; they have little material wise but they still manage to be happy. I learnt to appreciate and stop the complaining attitude, they taught me simplicity. I found myself falling in love with the place and the people and it is from this attitude that I managed to spend the three years of my life in Turkana without going back to visit my mother and siblings. Regardless of being far from my family and missing them in many instances, Turkana as a region taught me survival skills and what it means to live and serve a people different from my own. It was the first time that I had been away from my home and family for more than four months. It was not easy. I stayed in Turkana for three years and this period was vital in shaping my vocation to priesthood. 

In 2004, I went to Uganda for my Philosophical studies at Queen of Apostles Philosophy Centre in Jinja (2004-2007). Upon completion, I proceeded to Makerere University for my Post Graduate Diploma in Education from August 2007 to September 2008. All this while, I was in touch with Fr. Alex and his encouraging words and support helped me finish the studies successfully. 

I came back to Kenya in October 2008 and went to Lobur Mission in Turkana. Life was different again with a new reality distinct from that in Uganda. I had to adapt to the climate and the rhythm of non-scholarly life in the mission. While in Lobur Mission, I assumed pastoral responsibilities and other apostolate in the mission. I stayed in Lobur for 2 years and a half, that is, from 2008 to August 2011. 

In August of 2011, I began my Theological studies at Tangaza University College in Nairobi while residing at the nearby Blessed Bakanja AMECEA College. This was another complete different reality of formation life. It was the last stretch of formation towards priesthood and thus everything had to be done in a manner that corresponds to it. The integration of spiritual, human and academic formation was vital during the formation period. I was in Tangaza College from 2011 to 2015 where I graduated with a Bachelor Degree in Sacred Theology from Pontifical Urbaniana University-Rome, and a Diploma in Theology from Tangaza University College. In May 2015, I was ordained deacon upon which I was posted to St. Paul Nariokotome Mission for my diaconate apostolate. I worked in Nariokotome until 12^thDecember 2015 when I was ordained to the priesthood by Rt. Rev. Dominic Kimengich of Lodwar Diocese. Life as a deacon in Nariokotome brought back the old good memories of going for Masses in the different outstations in the parish. It also rejuvenated the bond with some people who were there when I came to Turkana, Nariokotome Mission in particular, for the first time 14 years back. My ordination to priesthood marked the realization of a long awaited desire and fulfilment. It was a dream come true after a long period of formation journey with many challenges that sometimes made me think of giving up: I thank God and all those who helped me with words of encouragement during those difficult moments.

Looking back at my vocational journey, I can only summarize it as a miracle since I do not have enough words to exhaustively narrate it. It is a journey of small steps coupled with perseverance and prayer. This year marks my 4th anniversary to priesthood and I still experience this powerful miracle every day of my life in the ministry. Thank you Fr. Alex Campon for your support and other MCSPA fraternity who in one way or another played a part in this great journey of my vocation. God bless you all!

Wycliffe Ochieng – MCSPA

I am John Amadi Obila and I was born and raised in an Anglican family. When I was about 10 years old, I remember my parents used to take me for Sunday School and that was when Christian teachings and values began taking shape in me. However, during the upper primary school days until throughout high school, I was not much of a church-goer; even my parents did not go to church regularly. We would march to church only during Christmas, and, unfortunately, I did not find much meaning in attending the services and Sunday School at all.

After high school, when I was about 20 years old, I struggled very much so as to support my family especially since I was the first born in the family. I worked as an untrained teacher at a private primary school for 1 year. Thereafter I moved to a larger town at the invitation of a friend; there I worked as a waiter in a restaurant. Thereafter, I moved to Kisumu city to join my cousin in a small business to try to eke out a living. In Kisumu city, I was exposed to another kind of life, so different from the village; there, I experienced much in terms of social life. I used to commute very early everyday to town and return very late in the night. I was not content and certainly disillusioned with much in life. I wanted something more fulfilling. Many critical questions began surfacing in my mind – How would my future be like? What was my purpose and calling in this world? Why certain things happen to certain people? And so on … It was all so disturbing!

It was during those days of so many questions about the world and my existence, that a relative of my family came into the picture – Fr. Steven Ochieng. It was one evening in December 2010 when I my mother suggested to me about going to a mission called Todonyang in Turkana; that was where Fr. Steven, my mother’s cousin, was parish priest at the time. Fr. Steven happened to be in Kisumu then and the following day I went to Kibuye Catholic Church where Fr. Steven was to celebrate mass, and we met there after mass. We immediately made arrangements to travel to Turkana. As I did not know Turkana, I was accompanied by a young man from the mission called Robert who was very willing to travel with me to Lodwar town and then on to Nariokotome Mission. 

The journey from Lodwar to Nariokotome was one of those that I will never forget as it was really challenging and still an amazing experience for a first-timer like me. We arrived at Nariokotome Mission in the evening, totally caked in dust all over our bodies. Despite the bumpy roads and dust, I thanked God for granting us a safe journey. It is all still fresh in my mind. It was a Sunday and the usual weekly session of catechesis was on going. We attended the catechesis session, although we were very exhausted from the long journey all the way from Kisumu. Finding myself in the midst of a gathering of people from different backgrounds who were sharing their thoughts on Scripture, surprised me. I was happy with this and I really liked the idea that people could share and comment on the readings, and describe how the scriptures influenced their lives. That kind of sharing eventually gave impetus to my desire to be a missionary. I had not had an opportunity to be in such a gathering where people talk about God.  In my previous life back home, at no time did I experience such a kind of sharing; it was just attending church on Sundays and that was all. 

Todonyang Mission is where the foundation of my discernment and formation was laid, and it began with Fr. Steven as my mentor. I cannot afford not to state there that I encountered beautiful moments living with Fr. Steven; he was not only a father to me but also an educator and a formator, from whom I have learnt a great deal especially from the spiritual engagements that we had during meals, evening prayer and mass that I attended everyday. All this galvanized my aspiration to follow in his footsteps. My idea of God was transformed from the prior belief that I had, and this was as a result of communal living and the sharing during catechesis. Through all this, I encountered Christ in the people I shared my life with. The communal life has been amazingly beautiful to me especially since I come from a society that is centred on the individual. 

I am therefore grateful to Fr. Steven for having invited me and for the love he showed me, and how he continues to journey with me to towards becoming a better missionary. I finished my degree in philosophy and development studies last year with the University of South Africa and am looking forward to pursuing theology. Currently, I am studying an accountancy program at the Technological Institute of the Philippines; I hope that the knowledge and skills learnt can be of service in helping with the accounts of the houses and missions and also for teaching Mathematics at the Payatas livelihood centre in Metro Manila where I am presently residing. 

At Todonyang Mission, I used to accompany Fr. Steven to the out-stations for masses, to bring good news to people living in harsh conditions. We were going to the schools there that provided food and education to the children; we even went with the mission nurse. I was involved in helping the nurse give medication to the sick of those areas. The organization of educational workshops and peace talks for purpose of establishing peace between the Turkana and the Dassanech tribes people along the border areas were a constant activity since they was always conflict between the two communities as a result of inadequate pasture and water. Living and witnessing all this in the flesh at Todonyang Mission, made me want to be on the side of the vulnerable, the poor and the underprivileged. I felt for them and was motivated by the desire to do the same as Fr. Steven did. At the same time, I was under pressure from my family who wanting to pull me back to the village as I was the first born. I have remained adamant and insistent over the years, trying to make my parents understand my decision to be a missionary, and that I really want to help others and to bring some light to those in darkness. It has not been easy with my parents because of their expectations of their first-born to support the family especially the younger siblings. 

My spiritual journey has always been premised on my keen observation and listening to people, and through that I obtained some inspiration. I am also grateful for the privilege of meeting the founder of MCSPA, the late Fr. Paco … may his soul rest in eternal peace. Fr. Steven introduced me to him and I stayed with him for about 2 months until the time he passed on. I had edifying moments of discussions with him, and I remember so well how he enjoyed reflections from the divine office. We would read paragraph by paragraph and reflected on them through discussions and I was really moved by that. I cannot forget the practical activities that we were involved in such as the building of gabbions, giving food and clothes to the children, etc. Thus a sense of humanity and generosity was inculcated in me through these encounters.

Paco would occasionally let me know how he saw me, how I might have changed for the better in the way that I understood things and led my life; those words of Paco are always imprinted on my mind. He showed me that we had to be fruitful by doing good.

I am currently in Manila, Philippines, where I am involved in our outreach programs such as teaching at the Payatas Livelihood Center, doing home visitations, visiting the prisoners and doing vocation promotion in other parts of the Philippines, with Fr. Francis guiding us. I find joy in reaching out to the needy and responding practically to their needs through the development projects that we have drafted.

John Amadi

Senior Apprentice, MCSPA.

I am Ambrose Wanyonyi and I was born in the western part of Kenya. I spent most of my childhood in a village near Kitale town. I am currently a senior apprentice with the Missionary Community of St. Paul the Apostle, better known by our acronym, MCSPA.

My journey to missionary life dates back 8 years ago, on completion of my high school education. Brian Werunga – whom I knew ever since we were children – at that time had just spent a year with the MCSPA. Brian returned to our village for a couple of days and shared with me the “breaking news”: he had met some missionaries who reside in Turkana, and he was impressed at their generosity in restoring hope to people of this marginalised region of northern Kenya. 

The news about the missionaries did not move me much at first, since I hardly knew much about what missionaries were all about anyway. Nevertheless, I felt somewhat eager to see what all the fuss was about. So in the beginning of 2011, I set off together with Brian to Lodwar and I was introduced to Fr. Francis Teo, a member of the MCSPA, who was then the Vicar General of the Diocese of Lodwar. It all appeared like going and staying with a priest in the parish … it didn’t look anything extraordinary at all!

Then, for my first weekend in this region, we all went up to the remote area to the north of Lodwar, to the mission of Nariokotome. Now, things began to look different! I was able to meet many other members of the Missionary Community of St. Paul the Apostle.

While Turkana is generally a semi-arid place, the mission looked different. Here, in the middle of nowhere, there was life! Because of the lack of rain and the apparently barren soil and scorching sun, it may not be easy to agree with me when I say that one could easily fall in love with this place. It is here that my whole understanding of missionary life deepened. Living and learning the charism of the missionary community continues to strengthen my vocation. I have no doubt that this is the correct choice that I have made. 

The unity and bond among people of different nationalities was surprising to me at first, but as time went by, I developed a better understanding of this way of life, a life in common. The love of Christ is felt in the people of the house and living together becomes more and more fulfilling. This closeness is propelled by one purpose, to give all to those who need more than what we need, and to bring them closer to Christ. 

I think this is the one thing that I admire most in my journey with the MCSPA: when you are able to go out of yourself and just give without expecting any returns. I am always touched by the words of Cecilia Puig, a senior member of the MCSPA, “there is much joy in giving than in receiving.” It is in this giving, that I am able to help myself more, and this strengthens my vocation. 

This missionary community or house, as we say, has become my home. It is hard to speak of a material or visible sign that one is being called to follow a vocation as a missionary. I think the recognisable sign is when there is deep joy in simply belonging to or being a part of this house. It is through these 8 years that I have continued to grow more seriously – in mind, heart and soul – in my vocation to the priesthood. I am not yet there, but it is my aim, with the help of God. Fr. Francis, the one who has mentored me throughout and to whom I owe my gratitude, has been the “driver” ever since I started out on my vocation journey. He has given the greatest support to bring me this far. These years have come with challenges of all sorts. However, Fr. Francis has stood by my side to guide me and to help me stand up again and to continue the journey, happier still and with more focus and commitment.

And I know that I need to serve God better from now on.

Ambrose Emmanuel Wanyonyi, – Apprentice, MCSPA

Why take this way? This is a question I am often asked by many people, especially my former classmates. It is difficult for them to understand why I decided to do something so different in my life.

It all started on 28^thFebruary 2011, when I said “Yes” to Fr. Avelino, a priest and member of the Missionary Community of Saint Paul the Apostle. I remember vividly that day under a tree in Thika (central Kenya) when Fr. Avelino invited me to go with him to Turkana and to see for myself what they do. I had never been in that part of the country, but I had read, back in my school days, about the Turkana people who are known to be warriors. For this reason I did not share with many friends and family about my going there since I was afraid that they would discourage me from doing so.  

I was born in the central region of Kenya. The land is generally fertile and rain is never a problem. However when I reached Turkana, for the first time in my life I experienced extremely high temperatures. I started wondering if anyone could survive such conditions. What encouraged me was seeing the people of the land so happy and positive despite the harsh conditions under which they survived.

I was warmly welcomed by the members of the Community who come from different parts of the world, but who have formed a fraternal bond, guided by the same charism, and moved by people’s suffering. When I saw how the members were united, I immediately decided to leave my former life and embrace this new journey. I had also the privilege of meeting and staying with the founder, Fr. Paco. May his soul rest in eternal peace. I owe him my life here. He was the one who moulded me and showed me the realities of life.

I have usually been good at working with youth, and I have been doing so in Turkana for several years. It gives me joy to see the young people smile. In that way they are able to overcome all the trauma they have gone through. I stayed in Nariokotome for five years and then I went to our mission in Malawi. There, I was introduced to another life and culture. I was working with a fishing project, establishing fishponds in different villages, interacting directly with the people on the ground.

Again, I left Malawi and moved to South Sudan. We are trying to rebuild the mission of Ave Maria in the Diocese of Tombura Yambio. It was constructed by the Comboni Missionaries decades ago. It feels an honour to step into the shoes of these early missionaries. In South Sudan I often have to lead the Liturgy of the Word, visit remote villages and take communion to the sick and elderly.

It is now eight years since I chose this path and I have never regretted it a single moment. I look forward with zeal, as St. Paul says, to finish the race that I have started.

Thank you, Avelino, for inviting me to this life. Meeting you was the best thing that has ever happened to me. To all the members of this wonderful family, I thank you as you continue helping me to get up especially when I am down.

So going back to the question often asked of me, “Why take this way?” I guess its because I shall never pass this way again, and so if there is something good that I can do for others, I shall do it now!

In our youth group in my home parish we had T-shirts with the quote from Stephen Grellet printed on them: “I shall pass this way but once; any good that I can do or any kindness I can show to any human being, let me do it now. Let me not defer nor neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.” 

This quote has been for me an inspiration in my life and vocation. I find in it an answer, when I am asked why I decided to take this way.

Peter Chege, Apprentice MCSPA

My journey to being a missionary was one of many curves and turnings. At a very early age I knew that I wanted to be a Priest. At Nakuru where I lived with my family for ten years during my adolescent years is when I discovered my vocation to the Priesthood. Through a very encouraging and concerned Parish Priest I became an altar server and later on joined St. Joseph’s Minor Seminary in Molo.

While at the seminary my vocation became stronger. The rector then was a very gentle and demanding man at the same time. He inspired most of us towards the Priesthood. The said rector is currently my Bishop in the Diocese of Lodwar. All along my idea of the Priesthood was of the diocesan kind since all the Priests that I came across were Diocesan.

This however changed when I went to Turkana through the invitation of a friend of mine to visit Turkana. Turkana was a new discovery to me. It may have been in the same country but it might as well been another country all together. The people, the place, the smells, everything seemed so different and difficult and yet surprisingly exciting.

I met European missionaries so fascinated by the place and doing a lot for the people, my country men. This was a great challenge to me. I felt like, if they can be happy staying in a place that most of us Kenyans shun, a place that we consider difficult and forgotten, I could also be part of the change process, be an agent of hope. I was happy and committed for some time.

However after four years I left the Community, I left Turkana to try a new life. By God’s grace I found my way back to the Community. As they say, the rest is history. I became a missionary through the guidance and support of Albert and many other MCSPA members.

I’m currently working at Nariokotome Mission as the Parish Priest and as the Director of St. Joseph Primary school.

Denis Odongo, MCSPA