Amani- meaning "Peace"

On December 12th 2016, a taxi drew up to large orange gates set within imposing concrete walls.

The taxi driver honked the horn of his vehicle and the gates were drawn open by a young, slim and conscientious guard.

This was how we met Amani, the day of our arrival at our Kampala home.

Amani had been appointed to work for us by MAF. We quickly realised that in this hard-working young man we had the perfect person to guard our home and keep our garden looking healthy, tidy and colourful.

It is a sad fact of life in Kampala that leaving our home unguarded is almost asking for a break-in. Having someone on the property for 24 hour security had to become the norm.

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Amani came from Congo. He had fled to Uganda as a refugee, seeking peace when his home country was embroiled in conflict. Unemployed for long periods, he was glad to have work as a guard for a MAF home, despite being well educated in the French language with his Secondary level certificate.

Amani also spoke Swahili. Since he had not yet grasped English, I communicated with Amani in French and Andrew chose to communicate with him in Swahili.

Reliable, discreet, trust-worthy and with a keen work ethic, Amani proved to be a great asset as we settled into life in Kampala. Coming on time each morning, he helped to man the gates, cut the grass, manage the gardening and keep an eye on security.

If supplies ran low Amani would pop to the shops to grab what was needed.
If we needed to stay out later than his normal working hours, he was happy to be flexible and stay later, earning over-time and ensuring the property was not left unguarded.
When the car broke down and mechanics came, he was the spare pair of hands that helped out:

(Amani stands in the blue jacket in front of the car)

Once, I rushed out to drive the children to school and in my great haste, accidentally left the front door wide open. Amani simply guarded the door until our return. Scrupulously honest, our home was in safe hands.

When Harry arrived on the scene, he and Amani became easy companions. We had all settled into a smooth rhythm. We had peace of mind knowing that Amani was working for us- true to his name.

Keeping the garden pretty- thanks to Amani

Earlier this year, Amani announced good news- he was going to marry a girl from his native Congo! His family in Congo were sorting out the dowry that he would have to pay. We were pleased he would soon be able to bring his fiancee to Kampala as his wife.

In late May, he departed for Congo for three weeks to try to finalise arrangements for his marriage. He would be taking the bus for an arduous ride from Kampala into Congo.

Shortly before leaving, he had come to work looking unwell and explained that he had terrible stomach ache and could not do the gardening, but would it be OK if he just manned the gate and guarded the property for the last couple of days before his journey?

Thinking that this was just a stomach bug, I gave him some rehydration medicine and asked what the doctor had said. The doctor didn't seem to know what was wrong. Amani resolved to travel to Congo as planned, despite being in much pain.

When he left work for his journey, I didn't know that I would never see Amani again. We fully expected to see him in a few weeks, hopefully returning a married man with all marriage and dowry details finally resolved.

Very early on the morning that Amani was due back at work, his cousin came to see me and explained that Amani could not return because he was in hospital in Congo! His stomach pain had become intense. He had spent most of his time in Congo very poorly and in hospital. Contrary to expectation, the mystery illness worsened until the family decided to pay for him to be transferred to Burundi for an operation.

Stomach pain, wounds in his stomach and vomiting blood were the symptoms described to me. With renewed fighting and chaos in Congo, very little healthcare was available. His cousin sent me a photograph of Amani, in deprived conditions, looking very ill and in pain. It was sad to see.

We had to find a relief guard, but the new man was not so motivated to get on with the work and found it difficult to manage the dog. One afternoon he was unable to secure our heavy gates, not being used to the way they operate.
I drove down our steep driveway but cringed as the heavy metal gate came crashing into the side of the vehicle, ripping the mud guard off the side of the car. I cringed even more as the sharp edge of the gate scratched the paint, scraping along the side of the moving car. Argh!!

All was fixed later that day, but we missed the efficiency of Amani's work.

The relief guard then needed time off. We got a second relief guard. He worked happily for a couple of days but then did not turn up one day. Instead, he sent a message saying that he disliked the hours we had asked him to work and would only come if we employed him for the hours he had decided on. Hmmm- this did not bode well for an easy working relationship- so we asked the first relief guard to come back after his days off!

Poor Harry was beside himself as the people in the garden with him day by day kept changing. He became snappy and sprouted grey hairs in his black coat. The dog was stressed, not knowing who to trust.

Finally, Amani's cousin came to see me a  second time. He told me that Amani was actually too ill to be moved to the Burundi hospital.. I felt terrible for Amani. It was horrible to think of him suffering so much. We redoubled our prayers for him and for his finacee.

The cousin brought with him one of Amani's relatives- a calm, efficient young man- who took over Amani's role and worked for us in Amani's continued absence.

The day before we left for England, the phone rang. It was Amani's cousin. Upset, he told me that he had some bad news. He was right- it was horrible news. Amani had died that morning in Congo.  Relieved from his incessant pain but deprived of his upcoming marriage.

Shock hit hard. I wasn't expecting such finality. Both myself and Jane, the lady who works for us, were very upset by the sad news.

It seems life here can be short. War, poverty, refugee status, more war and inadequate healthcare because of war. So sad. So unecessary. Would Amani's life have been safely intact if he had lived in a developed nation, with stability, less poverty and access to proper healthcare?

Because we had to leave for England the next day, we were unable to atend the Kampala family gathering to show support and solidarity. Other relatives travelled to Congo for the funeral. We felt bad that we could not offer more support. other than a phone call to the family to say how much we had appreciated Amani and his good work.

In East Africa, funerals are expensive affairs where family and friends are expected to contribute. This was the least we could do- but it felt like so little. I left Kampala with a heavy heart for Amani's family and knowing that his finacee had great loss.

If you are a praying person, please keep his family and his finacee in your prayers. For comfort, for provision, for peace for the people of Congo.

Last week, I ventured across our garden to the guard's room where the guards change out of their everyday clothes to their working clothes and where they store any belongings they want to keep safe. I found Amani's work clothes hanging on the pegs, where he and I fully anticipated him taking them down to wear again.

As I laid eyes on his red and blue checked shirt, I pictured Amani standing in our garden, watering the plants and quietly going about his work. I brushed away the tears as I picked up his clothes and took them to the machine to wash them.

Later, as I hung out Amani's clothes to dry, both Esther and I had to swallow hard. How sad, to hang up his clothes knowing that there was now no Amani to wear them again...