Mbala was a fisherman who fished in Lake Tankaho. One evening three years ago, he went fishing with his friend Mbulua. At around 11:00 p.m., a strong wind suddenly began to blow, causing the water to become choppy and their small boat to rock. Despite their efforts to weather the storm, the boat capsized and sank. Another fisherman saw them drown. The next morning, the fisherman called the two men’s families and friends, who tried unsuccessfully to find their bodies.
Life became hard for Mbala’s widow, Sara. Their son, Ishuvyo, was only ten years old, and suddenly Sara had to provide for him on her own. There were groceries and clothes that had to be bought, and medical expenses and school fees that had to be paid. To earn money, she bought fresh fish in Malura—sardines, kapenta, catfish—directly from fishermen at low prices and sold them at the Pengwa Market in Kikunga on Tuesdays and Thursdays for a small profit.
She took a minivan to Kikunga, along with many other traders. The minivan left Malura at 9 a.m. and reached Kikunga fifty minutes later. Sara stored her fish in the large cargo area behind the third row of seats. The other traders’ things—baskets, sacks, bags, vegetables, clothes, and other merchandise—were put wherever there was space: under seats, between feet, on laps, or even on the roof.
The driver would call out the minivan’s destination several times—“Kikunga, Kikunga!”—and wait until he had enough passengers. He made sure as many passengers as possible were squeezed into the seats before he left.
The road from Malura to Kikunga was in very poor condition. Drivers frequently had to slow down or change lanes because of the large puddles and potholes that were scattered all over the road. In addition to being badly damaged by the rain, the road was very narrow, with little space for two vehicles to pass each other safely. At various places, drivers had to pull over to the side of the road to allow another vehicle to pass.
Although these trips were not easy, Sara was able to feed herself and her son, pay Ishuvyo’s medical expenses and school fees, and buy clothes. She hoped for a better future. She hugged Ishuvyo every time she left. “Concentrate on your education so that you can change our living conditions in the future,” she would say.
One rainy Thursday morning, she bought fish from the local fishermen as usual and went to Kikunga. She sold all the fish and was satisfied with the profit she made. It was enough to pay for Ishuvyo’s final term of school that year and have some money left over.
At 5 p.m., Sara boarded the crowded minivan heading back to Malura. After driving for some twenty minutes, the minivan reached a very narrow section of the road. A lorry was coming in the other direction. Instead of pulling over, both drivers continued driving. There wasn’t enough space for the vehicles to avoid each other, and they collided violently. Passengers were thrown against the seats, windows shattered, metal crumpled.
The deafening sound of the collision was seen and heard by people who were walking along the road. Many of these people were returning from the fields, carrying hoes and other farming tools. They immediately dropped their tools and ran as fast as they could to rescue the survivors. Upon arriving at the scene, they found that some of the passengers had died on impact, while others had survived but were severely wounded and shouting for help.
The minivan was badly wrecked. The front was crushed and glass was scattered over the road. The passengers’ belongings were thrown everywhere. The dead bodies were left inside the minivan while people carried off the injured, who were crying out in pain. A twenty-four-year-old boy named Rukundo had been sitting next to Sara. He had been thrown against the minivan’s side. He had a leg fracture, couldn’t move, and was overwhelmed by the pain. Sara did not survive.
That evening, Ishuvyo waited patiently for his mother to come home. After completing his homework, he went to the bus station, expecting to see her carrying her basket as usual. After waiting for about an hour, he returned home and sat on a wooden bench outside. Not since she started selling fish in Kikunga had his mother ever come home so late.
Then Ishuvyo saw some neighbors walking towards him with solemn expressions. He felt a growing fear, and his heart started beating faster. The neighbors weren’t talking to one another, and for a while they didn’t say anything to him. Sakrina, an elderly woman, sat next to him on the bench and gently told him the news. The boy cried inconsolably. His mother, who had worked tirelessly, traveled dangerous roads twice a week, and sacrificed everything for his future, would never return home.
The neighbors and the entire community mourned Sara. She was buried in the neighborhood cemetery. After Mbala’s death, Sara had worked hard to educate her only son and give him a promising future, and so neighbors, friends, church members, local traders, and others decided to help Ishuvyo achieve her dream for him. He was taken in by his grandfather, Bwenusira, and many members of the community helped with school fees, food, and clothes. They all encouraged him to continue studying.
Ishuvyo missed his mother, but his grandfather was always there to care for him, prepare his meals, and make sure he continued going to school. He helped with the household chores and felt loved by his grandfather. Throughout secondary school, Ishuvyo worked hard and got good grades. He was determined to make his grandfather and late parents proud. He developed an interest in mathematics at the beginning of high school and it became his favorite subject.
After secondary school, Ishuvyo enrolled in the University of Masalira to study mathematics. He remained focused throughout his studies and spent all of his time studying linear algebra, calculus, statistics, and other areas of mathematics. He had to live on a tight budget and regularly experienced bouts of anxiety, but his grandfather and his mother’s sacrifice and love encouraged him to go on. After successfully completing his bachelor’s degree, Ishuvyo pursued a master’s degree in mathematics at the same university. Through hard work, he completed the master’s, thereby fulfilling his mother’s desire of having a highly educated son.
Soon after, Ishuvyo found work as a teaching assistant and enrolled in a PhD program. When he defended his PhD thesis in front of his teachers, fellow students, and guests, he revealed that his mother had sacrificed her life for him. He was only thirteen, he said, when she passed away in a car accident on a trip to improve his future. Even though she was not there to celebrate his success, all of his achievements were hers. As he explained, her love was still a powerful guiding force in his life.
