A Banker's Dream, A Humanitarian's Calling

Curious or not, don't ever join debates if you're not ready for a potential turn in your life.

I had no idea one debate would change everything for me.

Young and ambitious, I was convinced my future was in banking—handling money, navigating numbers,the corporate outfits and thriving in the world of finance. I loved the idea of being around money, or at least in close proximity to it. It felt like certainty, like success.

Then came that debate.

The motion? The Refugees Plight. I could have just treated it like any other argument—research the facts, poke holes in the opposition's points, and move on. But something shifted. As I dug deeper, I realized I knew nothing about the people living among us, the ones we called refugees. Uganda was the largest refugee hosting country in Africa, but why? Where were they coming from? What had they endured? How did they rebuild their lives after losing everything? My curiosity wasn't just academic—it became personal.

That curiosity led me to volunteer at an NGO working with urban refugees. At first, I was just an English teacher. But it didn't take long to see that these people needed more than language skills. They needed someone to advocate for them, to help them navigate systems designed without them in mind. Insignificant as it might seem, teaching them English was vital in helping them navigate interviews at the embassy during their resettlement process, enroll in school, pursue their dreams and reconnect with lost opportunities.

When my curiosity couldn't let me stay in the urban setting, I got a communications job serving in refugee settlements in west and south western Uganda. The first time I was there, I cried, I hardly took any photos.

These weren't just "displaced people." These were survivors. Men and women who had fled war, watched their nations crumble, seen their loved ones killed. They had faced death, yet here they were—searching for hope, for a chance to start over.

And it wasn't just the refugees.

I began to notice the boys—the ones overlooked in the narrative of empowerment. Everyone was focused on uplifting women (rightfully so), but these boys, too, were carrying the weight of trauma. They weren't “lost” or lacking self-worth. They had seen things no child should see. They had grown up in destruction, in violence, in uncertainty. Yet, they were expected to simply be strong and courageous.

I couldn't ignore them.

Together with the girls, I started mentoring them, creating a space where they could heal, learn, and build futures that weren't defined by the horrors they had witnessed. And as much as I poured into them, they changed me too. I had opportunities to leave, to take prestigious positions, but I stayed—because what would happen to my boys if I walked away?

The journey hasn't been easy. There have been battles—fighting for funding, pushing through doubt, proving myself in a world that often overlooks women in leadership. But every challenge made me stronger. I invested in myself, built credibility, and made people listen—not because I demanded it, but because I delivered.

Now, I run an NGO that empowers youth—refugees, boys, young people searching for purpose. We teach them skills—photography, video editing, entrepreneurship—creating a ripple effect that changes entire families. And this is just the beginning.

In five to ten years, I see a network of centers across the world, equipping young people with the tools to thrive. I want my work to outlive me. I want to be remembered as the woman who spent her life mending broken people, the one who broke barriers, who went out of her way to change lives, who gave everything she had until there was nothing left to give.

I want to pour out everything I have—my knowledge, my experiences, and my impact—so that others can rise and create a better future.

Because true success isn't about what you accumulate. It's about Inspiring others with the investments of your personality, causing others to aspire to your inspirations.