A Journey Of Hope And Gratitude Swabrah Nabuuma   © Copyright 2025 by Swabrah Nabuuma

Photo by Nataliya Vaitkevich at Pexels.

Swabie is an accomplished graphic designer and a journalist based in Kampala City in Uganda. Born and raised in the vibrant city of Kyazanga Lwengo, Swabie developed an early passion for creativity. She attended the university of Islamic university in Uganda where I purchased a degree in mass communication. Specializing in graphic designing and anchoring, where she honed her skills in both traditional and digital forms.

After graduating with a degree in Mass communication, Swabie pursued her career. Over the years, she has worked with several renowned design agencies, creating stunning visuals for brands in tech, and entertainment. Her work has been recognized for its boldness, creativity, and attention to detail.

When she’s not working on her latest project, Swabie enjoys traveling, photography, and experimenting with new techniques in Graphics. Her work has been featured on several media platforms, and she continues to push the boundaries of digital design.

Village Life: A Journey of Resilience and Hope

Swabie grew up as an orphan, raised by her grandmother and surrounded by other children deep in the heart of the village. Life, however, was far from kind. Meals were a rare luxury, and we only ate once a day. Life was a constant struggle—a harsh reality where “donkey work” was the order of the day. From dawn until dusk, the relentless cycle of hard labor never ceased. We dug the soil under the unforgiving sun, fetched water from miles away, and tended to chores that no child should have to bear. For an eight-year-old girl, this life was like trying to catch the wind—no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t escape its grip.

School, too, was an uphill battle. We only had two days a week to study due to the lack of school fees. Education was a distant dream for many, but we clung to it like a lifeline, Swabie is an accomplished graphic designer and a journalist based in Kampala City in Uganda. Born and raised in the vibrant city of Kyazanga Lwengo, Swabie developed an early passion for creativity. She attended the university of Islamic university in Uganda where I purchased a degree in mass communication. Specializing in graphic designing and anchoring, where she honed her skills in both traditional and digital forms.trying to push through, despite the odds. Books were a precious commodity. We had to share a single 48-page book between two students, stretching it thin as if trying to stretch a piece of thread to fit a whole quilt. We walked barefoot, our feet becoming calloused from the rough, dusty roads. Our “breakfast” consisted of cold food wrapped in banana leaves—an everyday reminder of the starkness of our situation. Yet, through all of this, I found a way to endure. We made do with what little we had, and somehow, we kept going. Every setback was a lesson, and every hardship taught me the strength I never knew I had.

As I neared Primary Five, my life took a turn. My aunt secured a scholarship for me, and I moved to Kampala. Though it felt like a golden opportunity, life in the city wasn’t any easier. It was like trading one storm for another. Though I was in a boarding school with everything I needed—food, clothes, and a roof over my head—there was still something missing. The things a child needs most—love, affection, and the warmth of a mother’s embrace—were nowhere to be found. I was surrounded by material things, but I was starved for the emotional nourishment that every child craves. I felt like a plant trying to grow in barren soil, desperately needing the love and care that only a mother can provide.

My mother had abandoned me when I was just two years old. And even though my aunt tried her best to fill the gap, the hole in my heart was too deep to be filled with things. I often felt like I was trying to pour water into a basket—no matter how much effort I put in, the emptiness remained. Yet, I never stopped pushing forward. Life may have thrown me into the deep end, but I was determined to learn how to swim.

Through all the hardship, I came to understand that life isn’t about what we’re given, but how we choose to respond. Despite the odds stacked against me, I learned to find strength in my vulnerability and courage in the face of adversity. And as I stand here today, I know that every moment of pain, every tear I shed, has shaped me into who I am—a resilient woman with a heart full of hope and a spirit that refuses to break.

A Journey Through Adversity: The Road to Hope

After completing my Primary Seven, I returned to the village, filled with dreams of a better future. Thanks to the scholarship I had received, I was able to join secondary school. However, there was a catch: the village didn’t have a secondary school, so my fees were paid at a nearby school in Kyazanga. I believed life would be easier and simpler now, but it turned out to be a harsh illusion. Reality hit me like a freight train the moment I arrived—no books, no uniform, and no other materials to start school. The only thing I had were the dreams of a better tomorrow and the determination to push forward, even when I had nothing.

Despite the overwhelming challenges, I couldn’t turn back. My grandmother, who had always been my pillar, suggested that I move to town and live with my second aunt in Kyazanga. She promised she would send me to a boarding school with the materials I needed. But, like many promises made in desperation, this one was empty. When I arrived, my aunt sent me with nothing—no uniform, no books, nothing to help me start a new chapter in my life. What she said to me that day, though, would haunt me forever.

With words that cut deeper than any blade, she told me: “We are not the ones who told your mother to be a prostitute and give birth to you as a bastard. Go find your own way. We can’t feed a bastard child.”

Those words were like a weight on my heart, sinking me into a sea of sadness. But in the midst of that storm, I knew one thing: I could either drown in despair, or I could swim towards a better future. Writing this now, I still feel a lump in my throat, and I can’t help but feel a rush of emotion. But I know that if my story can touch just one person, teach one lesson, or inspire one soul to never give up, then every tear shed was worth it.

So, I went to school, and life was anything but easy. There were no breaks for me, no comfort in my daily routine. My meals were often limited to nothing more than posho and beans—simple food that filled the stomach but didn’t nourish the spirit. But I endured. With every hardship, I grew stronger, like a tree that bends but doesn’t break under the weight of a storm. And no matter how tough the days were, I kept my eyes on the prize: education.

This was the reality of my life all the way until my Senior Four. I remember sleepless nights, lying awake, thinking about my future. There were times I felt as if the weight of the world was on my shoulders. But I refused to give in to despair. I told myself, “One day, through education, I’ll become something great.” I held on to that hope with all the strength I had left. It wasn’t just a dream it was my lifeline, the only thing that kept me going when everything else seemed impossible.

By the time I finished my Senior Four, I stood tall among the giants. I had conquered every obstacle, climbed every mountain that life had placed before me. The journey wasn’t easy, and the scars from the battle were deep. But the lessons I learned along the way were invaluable. I learned that no matter how many times life knocks you down, you can always rise again. That no matter how tough the road may be, as long as you keep walking, you’ll eventually get to your destination.

The Lesson: Never Give Up

Today, as I reflect on my journey, I want to share this one lesson with anyone who’s reading: Never give up, no matter how hard life gets. Even in the face of adversity, even when the world seems to turn its back on you, there is always a glimmer of hope. If I can make it through, so can you.

You see, life is like a stormy sea. There will be days when the waves seem too high, when the winds are too strong, and when you feel like you can’t keep afloat. But, as long as you have the will to survive, the strength to hold on, and the hope that tomorrow will be better, you can weather any storm. It’s not about the cards you’re dealt, but how you play them. And I played my hand with everything I had—my heart, my soul, and my undying belief that one day, I’d find my way to the shore.

So, if you’re out there struggling, remember this: you are not alone. And just like I did, you too can rise from the ashes of your past, turn your pain into power, and emerge victorious.

The Struggle Continues: A Test of Will and Resilience

In the same school, I applied for my A-levels, holding on to the last thread of hope that the scholarship would continue. But, at last, as fate would have it, my scholarship ended in my second term. Just when I thought I would lose everything, my aunt’s husband, who had been part of the support system, stepped in and paid for my remaining year. But life had other plans.

As I reached the threshold of my Senior Six, another tragedy struck. My mother’s aunt came to stay at my grandmother’s house, a situation that would change everything. She was a woman who had seen better days, but by the time she arrived, her health had deteriorated. Despite this, she lived in the house with us, and it didn’t take long for me to realize that I would bear the brunt of the responsibility.

Readers, I cannot express in words how deeply I suffered. She was no longer able to do much for herself, and we were left to manage everything. We dug deep into the earth, not just for food but for her dignity and survival, like a relentless tide that never stops. My grandmother, who had always been a symbol of strength, was also drained, and there was nothing left for us to hold on to. We were scraping the bottom of the barrel. Life was relentless, but we kept going.

One day, as time passed, my aunt began to dig for herself—literally and figuratively. She started selling things to make money. Slowly, she began to step out of the comfort zone she had been living in, and in that, I found a lesson. Nothing in life comes easy. It was time to take matters into my own hands. The burden of surviving became my daily reality, but I kept my eyes on the future.

Then came my second-term holiday, a moment I thought would bring some relief. I had worked so hard during the break, harvesting beans, cowpeas, and winnowing seven sacks of beans and three sacks of cowpeas. These small victories felt like treasures, the fruits of my labor, the sweat and toil of my hands finally being put to good use. But when it was time to return for my third term, everything took a painful turn.

We didn’t have the luxury of packing fancy food for my journey, as most students did. My “snacks” consisted of yellow bananas, avocados, and a small bag of popcorn. It wasn’t much, but it was what I had. I thought it would be enough.

But as I went to say goodbye, I hoped—just hoped—that my aunt, who had the means, would give me just 2,000 shillings for transport. It wasn’t much, but enough to get me to school. I stood there, holding my breath, waiting. But when I looked into her eyes, my hope quickly turned to disappointment. Not a single coin was offered.

I was crushed. I felt as if the world had crumbled around me, and I began to cry, packing my things again in tears. But then, my grandmother, the one person who had never let me down, whispered words that I would carry with me for the rest of my life. She said, “Stay strong, darling. You will conquer. You will get everything you want in life. Just focus on your studies.”

At that moment, something inside me clicked. The tears that had welled up in my eyes were not tears of defeat; they were tears of fuel. Tears that would one day water the seeds of my success. I wiped them away, straightened my back, and promised myself that no matter how hard life was, I would never give up. If I could survive this, I could survive anything.

The Lesson: Resilience is the Key to Triumph

As I reflect on this part of my journey, I realize that these struggles were not barriers—they were stepping stones. Life threw stones at me, but I used them to build my path forward. Every hardship, every setback, every tear, and every disappointment were shaping me into the person I was destined to be.

I learned that resilience is the key to triumph. It’s not about how many times you get knocked down; it’s about how many times you stand back up, stronger than before. And even when you feel like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, remember: what doesn’t break you only makes you stronger. The world may try to break your spirit, but if you hold on to your dreams and your faith, no amount of adversity can steal your future.

From Stranded to Standing Strong: A Journey of Grace and Gratitude

After completing my Senior Six, I found myself stuck in the village with no path, no plans, and nowhere to go. The vacation felt like an endless road, stretching further with every day. Some of my classmates had already moved on with life some got married, others found jobs but I was left behind, stranded like a boat without a paddle. I spent my days wondering if life had forgotten me.

But even in that dark moment, God was planting something behind the scenes. My aunt, who had always stood by me like a pillar in a crumbling world, stepped in once again. She made arrangements for me to spend the rest of my vacation with my grandmother’s sister. My grandmother didn’t agree with the decision at first, perhaps worried about my comfort, but I chose to go because deep down, I had faith that something good would come out of it.

Little did I know, that decision would be the turning point in my story.

Not only did my great-aunt take me in, but she also made a life-changing move: she enrolled me in university and paid my tuition in full, year after year for three whole years. Her act of generosity was like a light in the darkness, guiding me toward a future I had only dreamed of. She believed in me, even when I had nothing to offer in return.

After graduation, I had expected things to fall into place but life had one more test in store. For six long months, I sat at home eating, sleeping, and praying for an open door. I knocked on doors, sent applications, reached out to people but it felt like I was shouting into the void. Not even a whisper came back.

I started to question everything. Had all that suffering, all the hard work, been for nothing?

Then, one quiet evening, while I was lying in bed, I received a call that would change everything. It was from my former university guild president. She had remembered me and connected me to her bosses. With nothing to lose, I went for the interview. And by the grace of God, I passed. I had finally landed a job.

That call was like rain on a long-dry land. I was overwhelmed with gratitude for my guild sister, my grandmother, her sister, and my aunt who had all been my silent warriors. Their faith in me had carried me farther than I could have ever walked alone. Today, as I speak, I’m doing better. I may not have everything, but I have something and I thank God for that. I pray He continues to bless me so that I, too, can become a light in someone else’s darkness. A helping hand to a child like I once was.

But even as things begin to fall into place, my heart carries a weight I cannot ignore.

All the great pillars of my life my grandmother, my aunt, and her husband are no longer here. They passed on before they could enjoy the fruits of their labor. They gave me everything, even when they had nothing. And now, as I write this, I can’t hold back the tears. The grief feels like an old wound that never quite healed. I miss them with every beat of my heart. I feel like a tree that finally bore fruit only to find the people who watered it are no longer around to taste it.

May their souls rest in eternal peace.

The Lesson: Gratitude, Resilience, and the Power of a Helping Hand

If there’s one thing life has taught me, it’s that delay is not denial. Even when it feels like the world has passed you by, keep holding on. The sun doesn’t rise at the same time for everyone but it always rises.

Never take for granted the people who lift you when you’re down. A helping hand might not change the world, but it can change someone’s world. And if you ever get the chance to be that hand, take it.

To the reader: whatever season you’re in whether stranded, struggling, or surviving—know this: your story is not over yet. Keep walking. Keep believing. One day, you will look back and realize that every tear, every sacrifice, and every unanswered question was building you into someone stronger, someone kinder, someone capable of turning pain into purpose.

*****

Swabie is an aspiring writer, graphic designer, and journalist based in Kampala, Uganda. Raised in the village of Kyazanga Lwengo, Swabie’s journey has been shaped by resilience, determination, and an unwavering belief that no matter the circumstances, one can overcome adversity. Her story is a testament to the power of hope, hard work, and the support of those who believe in you, even when life feels like it’s pushing you down.