By Sr. Josephine Gakii
My understanding of migrants and refugees did not begin in a classroom or through
reading books. It began with a personal encounter when I was a young girl in Class Six,
during the tribal clashes that affected Molo in Kenya. Although I was far from the
immediate violence, I heard heartbreaking stories of people being killed, families fleeing
for their lives, homes being burnt, and communities torn apart by hatred and conflict. At
that time, I heard about people running away from their homes, but I did not fully
understand what it meant to become a refugee.
My understanding changed when I met my classmate, John, at Ex-Lewa Primary School
in Kisima location ,buuri ward in meru county. His family had fled from Molo In Nakuru
county because of the violence. John shared his family’s painful experience. He, together
with his twelve siblings and their parents, had escaped with nothing except their lives.
They arrived in Kisima location ,buuri ward in meru county ,without adequate shelter,
food, clothing, or property. They had lost almost everything they had worked for. As a
young girl, I was deeply affected by his story. I began to realize that for a person forced
to flee, leaving home can mean losing security, property, livelihood, neighbors, friends,
and a sense of belonging. The family had experienced frightening events that left deep
emotional wounds. Fear and trauma were visible in their lives. Their experience helped
me understand that behind every refugee there is a human story of loss, courage, and
hope.
I vividly remember how our village elder gathered the community and explained the
family’s situation. He appealed to everyone to assist them as they tried to rebuild their
lives. The local church responded generously, and many families opened their hearts to
support them. My own family was among those who helped. John’s mother worked as a
casual laborer in our home, and every evening she returned to her family with some food
and a small amount of money we could afford to share.
At the time, I did not consider what we were doing extraordinary. It was simply an
attempt to help a family in need. However, looking back, I realize those small acts of
kindness were important. They gave the family food, but they also communicated
something much deeper: “You are not alone; you are welcome; your life has value.”
This experience taught me that refugees need more than material assistance. They need
acceptance, friendship, security, dignity, and hope. They need people to listen to their
stories without judgment. They need communities that can help them regain their
confidence and rebuild their lives.
As the years passed, I witnessed a remarkable transformation in John’s family. Through
hard work, determination, and the kindness of many people, they slowly rebuilt their
lives. They accepted every honest job available so that the younger children could go to
school. Gradually, they became more stable; they acquired land, built a home, raised
their families, and became respected members of the community.
Their journey taught me an important lesson: being a refugee is a circumstance, not a
person’s identity or destiny. A person may lose a home, but that does not mean they
have lost their abilities, dignity, dreams, or capacity to contribute to society. With
security, opportunity, and support, people can rebuild their lives. Through this
experience, I also began to understand the broader reality of migration. People move for
different reasons. Some migrate in search of employment, education, family
reunification, or better opportunities. Others are forced to flee because of war,
persecution, violence, or other serious threats. While the circumstances may differ,
migrants and refugees are human beings deserving of respect and protection. Their
stories should not be reduced to statistics or labels.
I have also come to appreciate how vulnerable migrants and refugees can be. When
people are separated from familiar communities, they may face poverty, discrimination,
exploitation, and insecurity. Women and children can be particularly vulnerable. Some
migrants and refugees may also experience trafficking or other forms of abuse because
they are desperate and have limited protection. This calls for greater awareness and
responsibility from governments, churches, civil society, and ordinary citizens.
As a religious sister, this childhood experience has continued to influence my
understanding of Christian service. My faith teaches me that every person is created in
the image and likeness of God. Therefore, supporting migrants and refugees is not
simply an act of charity; it is a recognition of their God-given dignity. The Christian
response should be one of welcome, compassion, accompaniment, and solidarity. I have
learned that we do not always need great resources to support a migrant or refugee. A
meal, clothing, school support, temporary shelter, employment, a listening ear, or a
word of encouragement can make a significant difference. Sometimes the greatest gift
we can give is to help a person feel that they still belong.
My experience with John’s family has also taught me not to judge people based on the
circumstances that have brought them to us. We may not know the pain, loss, or fear
behind their journey. Instead of asking, “Why did they leave?” we can ask, “What can I
do to help them rebuild their lives?”
Today, when I meet or hear about migrants, refugees, and others forced to leave their
homes, I remember John’s family. Their story reminds me that people can rise again
after experiencing unimaginable loss. Their resilience gives me hope and challenges me
to become more compassionate toward those who are forced to leave their homes.
My journey of understanding migrants and refugees therefore began with one family in
Kisima. What I initially saw as a family that had lost everything became a profound
lesson in human dignity, resilience, compassion, and hope. Their experience opened my
eyes to the suffering of refugees and helped shape my commitment to stand with those
who are vulnerable. I believe that supporting migrants and refugees is not merely an act
of generosity. It is an expression of our common humanity, our Christian faith, and our
responsibility to create communities where every person feels welcomed, protected, and
valued. When we open our hearts to those forced to leave their homes, we do more than
meet their immediate needs. We help restore their dignity, rebuild their hope, and give
them courage to begin again.
The story of John’s family continues to remind me that even a small act of kindness can
become a source of hope. Their journey from fear and loss to stability and belonging has
remained one of the most powerful lessons of my life. It has taught me that when we
welcome and support migrants and refugees, we are not simply helping strangers we are
standing with our brothers and sisters and affirming the dignity of every human person.