Tombstones and Banana Trees by Medad Birungi Page B

agreed to go along to hear them perform and join in the dancing. But we also agreed that, if they preached, we would shout at the tops of our voices and unleash our chaos on them.
    Our school was a notorious school with a culture of violence, and the staff told the choir our intentions. Understandably the choir decided that they would not preach but that they would simply introduce the songs. One of them, a young woman called Christine, started up:
    â€œWe are going to sing a song about love. But before we start we want to tell you that God loves you unconditionally. His love for you does not depend on who you are, where you come from, your background, what you have done. He just loves you the way you are, because He made you in His own image. He can be your security. Do you know that your source of true security is from God? Your father, your mother, your sisters, your brothers are not your security. Your education is not your source of security. Even politics is not your security. Idi Amin said he was president for life, but where is he now?”
    Christine was a very beautiful girl, very confident as well. We used to think that only ugly, poor, frustrated, and troubled people became born-again Christians. I thought Christianity was dull, but these young people were excited and confident. We were listening.
    â€œSome of you have been abandoned by your fathers, some of you are victims of domestic violence, but God’s love for you is unconditional and it can be your source of security and self-worth. God can be the source of a sense of your own value; while you are students today, you may well be cabinet ministers, presidents, or major-generals tomorrow. God values you and you are precious to Him, and you have a purpose. You were born a boy not by accident. You have a purpose. God is the true source of your security, your self-worth, and your significance. Receive Him now. Believe in Him now. Trust your lives and destiny to Him now, and your lives will never be the same. Jesus saves, He keeps, and He satisfies. He is a good guy. God is a dependable, caring, close, and loving Father. Boys, I am telling you this: He will never let you down!”
    It was as if she was speaking directly to me. Even down to that part about not being a boy by accident. I had never told anyone this, but at times in my life I had even wished I had been born a girl. At least then I could have taken a job as a maid and then married, so that someone would look after me.
    I stood in the crowd in the yard in front of the school gates and wanted to disappear. I could have evaporated; I would have let my life be carried away on the breeze right then, in order to avoid the challenge inhabiting that moment.
    But Christine had stopped talking, and in the silence that filled me I sensed a drop of love enter my heart. It was like that small sip of perfectly cold water on a hot day; not enough to quench, but enough to arrest discomfort, if only for a moment.
    Soon there came a question within me: If she really was speaking the truth, and God really did love me as she said, why did God allow all this suffering to happen to me? Why?
    But my heart felt another touch of warmth. The question faded in its importance. What mattered was another question that rose up as I looked in: Where was my security? My father? He had let me down. My sisters? One had been murdered and another had molested me. My uncles, aunts, and cousins? Most of them were not helpful at all, and I still feared that some of them wanted me dead. I felt that so many people had used and exploited me in different ways. I realized that, apart from my mother, I had no one around who loved me unconditionally. For the first time I doubted whether her love was enough. Look how I had treated her: After all she had done for me, after all the promises I had made to her, my life had become a rage and an embarrassment to her. I had let her down. What self-respect could I have if I treated the only one