Rose Busingye and Fr. Luigi Giussani.

More than a family

When my father died, I was hopeless, until I met Rose. I was only a child, and did not expect to be able to go ahead with school, but she looked at me and said, “Dennis, do you know you have a value? You can do whatever you want!” ...

Dennis is 22 years old, and is orphan of both father and mother. He came across the Meeting Point in Kampala (a non-governmental organization that cares and supports HIV infected people and their families), and the meeting with Rose changed his whole life. He now attends university.

When my father died, I was hopeless, until I met Rose. I was only a child, and did not expect to be able to go ahead with school, but she looked at me and said, “Dennis, do you know you have a value? You can do whatever you want!” Not even my father ever spoke to me like that; he never told me that my life had a meaning. Every time I was promoted to a higher class in secondary school, I went to her and said I wanted to go on studying, because it would make me happy. She would ask me, “Is it true?” I did not understand the reason for that question, but I went on studying. Then I told her I wanted to go to the university. Rose gave me everything I wanted, and I asked myself: who is she? She was not interested in my results, but in me as a person–in me. I was admitted to the university. She asked me if I really believed that my happiness lay there. I asked her what she meant by this question. She answered that our desires are infinite. That really opened my eyes! She reminded me that at every successive level of school, I had told her that I would be happy. Now, though, I am at the university and despite this I am not truly happy. I keep wanting something more. Now I belong to a fine family, I am happy to have met these people and am not looking for more, because I have seen here, in this family, Christ at work, concretely. When I met Rose, I realized that Christ is in people, because to meet someone who is always waiting for you, with whom you can speak of everything in full freedom–and who does not tell you that this is wrong that that’s not right–you are free to do what you want–then she tells you what she would do. When Rose invited me to the School of Community, I understood nothing at first, but I didn’t tell her. Then I told her the truth and asked her to help me. She asked me why I had taken so long to say I didn’t understand: “I told you I am always ready to help you; feel free, don’t be afraid…” I said in my heart, “This is really too much! She gives me time, and even smiles at me.” Many of us who now go to Meeting Point had a self-esteem that was at rock-bottom, with no hope; we thought we could not make it. But she looked at us, and told us we have a value. One day, Rose told me to be myself, to live my life and not put on masks, to be free. I had no need for her to tell me to be free; I am already free. Then she asked me, “Do you know who you are?” I thought I knew who I was but, actually, who am I? I know my name, I know I go to school but… at that point, she reminded me again to go to the root of things, to look deeply into myself: “And when you have discovered yourself, come back to me.” But she never left me alone, she took me by the hand. The is another thing that strikes me in the friendship with Aunty Rose: She doesn’t care which tribe you are from. In Uganda, we are tribalistic, and everyone does things for economic gain. My relatives rejected me. My father was Acholi and my mother Runyankole, and since I do not resemble the Acholi many of them don’t like me. All this is of no interest to Rose; she doesn’t even want to know which tribe you are from. She says that culture is the heart, and has nothing to do with tribal belonging. One day, I got to class late and the teacher had already started. He interrupted the lesson and said, “Hey, handsome, show us who your girlfriend is, introduce her now!” All the students were looking at me. I answered, “I have no girlfriend here.” “Look at all these beautiful girls. Is it possible that none of them can make you happier?” “If we are talking of happiness, I don’t think any of these girls could ever make me happy.” “So let’s hear from him what makes him happy.” “Only Christ can make me happy!” Then he said to me, “You are young, you have not yet seen the world! Maybe you are a priest? You speak like a priest!” “No. I don’t need to be a priest, but I know who I am, I know the meaning of my life. You teach in the university, but do you know who you are?” He looked at me and said that a youngster like me cannot ask certain things. “It’s very easy to say I am young, but do you know who you really are? You are here, earning a lot of money…” Then I saw a ring on his hand. “I presume you are married, but are you happy? Now that you are married, are you happy? I imagine you must be really happy, you have a wife, a good job…” At that point, he went on with the lesson, asking me to see him later in his office. I though he wanted to throw me out of the university. Instead, he asked me to sit down and asked me how old I was and if I was living with my parents. He thought it was all an invention and asked me who was paying my tuition fees. I told him I had lost both of my parents. He asked me if I was happy and I told him yes, because I had discovered something great–the Presence of Christ. He looked down and asked me when I had discovered it. He understood at once that this discovery had to do with my friends, and he asked me again about the tuition fees. I told him it was Auntie Rose. “Who is she?” “Someone who loves me and loves other people.” “What does it mean to love people? I love my students.” I answered that that he has to understand the real meaning of the word love, and what it means really to be loved, and that in Rose I truly see Christ. He told me, “Dennis, Christ is not here, He’s in heaven. Haven’t you read the Bible? He is sitting at the right hand of the Father. Don’t let them deceive you.” I answered that no one is deceiving me, I know who I am and I asked him if he knows who he is: “I don’t mean you name or your titles, but your deepest self.” I told him to look into his heart, because we are not in the world by mistake or by chance. We are here for an aim. He told me, “Young man, this is alright for you.” “No, this is true for everyone. We all have to know who we are, because it has nothing to do with money or jobs.” In the end, he let me go, asking me to let him have one of Fr. Giussani’s books… We spoke for an hour and I realized that I had said nothing that came from my knowledge; all that I said came from Fr. Giussani. “With our hands, but with His strength”–I had read this phrase somewhere in our library, and I spoke of it to Rose. She told me to “love, love the people, learn to love them. This is the foundation of life. If you have not begun to love someone, you have not yet begun to live. Once you begin to love, you have begun to live a true life. Begin to love someone, and you will know what it is to live.”

Dennis Oryem, Kampala (Uganda)