ChildFocus: John Da Gama

By Haley Schmitz

The first time I saw him I knew we would be friends. I walked into his classroom to find him focusing intently, determined to learn the shapes his teacher drew on the board. His square was uneven and his circle wasn't quite round, but for a two year old, his shapes weren't half bad. I told him "good job" but he didn't understand the words I said to him. He could understand the hugs I had to offer, though. I gave him a hug every time I saw him- it was the way we had to communicate. It was enough.

Every day, he went to preschool classes at the ChildVoice Centre in Lukodi, northern Uganda. He is learning numbers, colors, shapes and some English. During recess and after school, he has the chance to run around the Centre with his friends, play on the swing set or help his mom in the kitchen. I loved watching him play with the other children. He always knew when to help, though and I would often see him helping out with the babies, feeding them or playing with them. He was always so full of energy. He ran to wherever he was going and would only walk when he held my hand and escorted me to my hut. His name is John Vasco da Gama. An incredible name for an incredible boy.

We quickly became attached. Each morning when I got to the Centre the other children would help me find him. I'd watch as his face lit up in joyful recognition and he'd race toward me. I would hoist him into my arms for a long embrace full of kisses and tickles. He would giggle and I couldn't help but throw back my head and laugh. His laugh is as amazing as his gigantic smile. We shared this beautiful exchange every time we saw each other. We also sang together, played on swings, danced, played tag or just sat together. He often fell asleep in my arms during the nightly singing that we had with the mothers. We did this day in and day out for four weeks. Four wonderful weeks. Leaving Da Gama and the ChildVoice Centre was so hard. His mother gave me a basket the night before we left. It was a beautiful green and white star basket, the kind made by many women in northern Uganda. The basket was a thank you gift for being Da Gama's friend. I don't think I ever could have been anything less.

There are two experiences I will always remember about my time with Da Gama. The first being the moments I spent with Da Gama and his mother, Agnes. We would often spend time together in the kitchen or on the steps of the Centre with Da Gama going from one lap to the other or climbing on our backs. One time, he sat in his Agnes' lap, pointed at me and said something in Luo, the Acholi language. I asked what he said and Agnes replied, "She is my friend." I love that he thought of me as a friend and not just as someone who came to work at the ChildVoice Centre for a few weeks. The other experience that stays in my heart is when we would play on the swings. I would stand in front of Da Gama, pushing him higher and higher. I would pretend that he knocked me over when he came swinging towards me. I'd fall to the ground and watch him burst into a fit of giggles. Sometimes, instead of getting knocked over, I would catch him in my arms and shower him with kisses to tickle him. Sometimes we played on the swings for hours.

Da Gama is only two years old and his mother is seventeen. Da Gama was born into a place where its people don't know what peace looks like. Agnes and Da Gama are learning, though. His mother was a child soldier and was forced to fight for the LRA. She managed to escape and is now living with Da Gama at the ChildVoice International Centre in Lukodi. Da Gama has never experienced the horrors that his mother has and hopefully he will never have to. Through ChildVoice International, his mother is learning how to be a mother who can provide for her child. She will be just that when she graduates from the ChildVoice International program. She will learn how to provide for him and give him the childhood every child deserves and one she never had; one free of war and violence. She will be able to send Da Gama to primary school. Hopefully, he will then go on to secondary school and University. He could become a farmer or a doctor or an engineer. When I remember his smile, his possibilities seem endless.