His first ‘Birthday’: Getting to know the Nyakitoko boy

On June 11, 2009 I went to Phidam House, which housed the Compassion International offices, for official business. It is there that I met the young man that was later to be my husband. That mid-morning, he was clean shaven adorning an African print shirt and a striped pair of trousers. That morning I kept thinking to myself that he could have been smarter in a plain pair of trousers. As we sat and waited for our turn to meet the officer, we had both come to see, we exchanged pleasantries. He started the conversation. He later asked for my contact, arguing that it’s important for acquaintances to keep in touch, at least occasionally. I dd not see that happening!

As soon as I had moved upstairs to meet the officer I had come to see, he called one of my colleagues back in Rukungiri. He was months later to tell me that the colleague he called to ask about me described me as extremely principled, born again, single and proudly refusing to commit to any relationship. I had been working in Rukungiri for close to three years and my star was evidently shining brighter each passing year. In Rukungiri, I met likeminded young people and we struck a deep friendship. We were young, full of life and unapologetic about our seemingly over-ambitious dreams and life goals. To those that misunderstood us, that passed as pride.

That evening, the young man called me to establish if I had reached my place of aboard safely.

‘How nice but uncalled for.’ I thought to myself.

I nonetheless received the call with as much courteousness as I could. Consequently, he would call to find out how I was fairing – so he claimed.

In short, a time, we both knew quite a chunk of information about each other. I am no secretive person, so my friends very soon got to know that I had brought another friend on board. That is how we lived our lives; we became friends with our friends’ friends! The stranger I thought I was bringing on board was not new to the people I was introducing him to. He had attended the same university with my very close friends – Sheila, Jackie and Anita. They fondly talked about their campus days – singing in the Main Christian Fellowship choir, going for evangelical missions and the usual stuff of people who those days thought Makerere University was the only university. When such stories came up, I would lie low, with no one to recount with Uganda Christian University escapades. The story has since changed, with UCU earning herself an enviable place among the higher education leaders across the globe.

Discovering that my closest circles in Rukungiri were part of his friends worked well for Dickson’s grand long-term plans. He very soon would find a reason to be in Rukungiri. He was working in Mitooma, Bushenyi district by then. If he had not come to Rukungiri for a prayer meeting, then it was a party for a friend of his friend’s neighbor.

‘So, I decided since am already in your area code, let me stop by and say hello.’ he would say, each time I asked about the reason behind the endless visits to Rukungiri.

So much happened within that month of the first meeting – exchanging basic details about each other, random strategic visits to Rukungiri and reuniting yours truly with the Makerere group working in Rukungiri.

Part of the things I knew about this newfound friend was that he had never celebrated his birthday. I don’t remember what topic was being discussed when he confessed this. His birthday was a day like any other. I found that strange. There is not a single birthday of mine that passed unawares. Probably my mother made a fuss about that one day in a year because she had only one child.

I decided to take the risk of initiating this newfound friend in the culture of celebrating birthdays. I prayed he does not misread my well-intentioned initiation. Did I care if he did? Absolutely not. Since I had not misinterpreted his numerous telephone calls, lunch dates, visits; he too had no right whatsoever to misread my gesture of kindness. He should be grateful that I am initiating him into the world of purposefully celebrating life milestones. So, I hatched a surprise plan. The plan worked perfectly to the letter.

I bought a gift which I left under his care on the pretext that I would call him to hand deliver it to the right owner. The person to pick it was meant to be my friend, who was well known to him too! Patience would in turn take the gift to her sister who was supposedly due for graduation in August. There he went with a well wrapped gift under his custody, completely unaware that it was his.

July 01, 2009, I called him that Patience was in the vicinity to pick the gift for her sister.

‘You should have told me to carry the gift to office then’ he said when I called to inform him that the person to pick the gift had come.

He rushed home, picked the gift and went to where I told him Patience was waiting from.

Patience was nowhere!

He called back to tell me that there was no one at the place I had directed him.  After close to 15 minutes of moving up and down, looking for the person to no avail, I told him to go back with the gift.

I then reminded him that it was his birthday and asked him to open the gift.

It was his gift! He had added another year, he needed to celebrate that milestone.

Ten years later, he remembers to celebrate not only his birthday, but for everyone in his circles.

I am glad I took that first risk, it marked a major turning point in his life, for which I am a primary beneficiary.

Happy birthday Tumuramye Dickson.

©Prim K. Tumuramye

2^nd July 2020

Prim is a Christian, wife, mother and Communications Specialist at Compassion International. She is passionate about reading, writing, youth mentorship and intentional parenting.