The year was 2018; we both looked malnourished in our tiny statures, and we carried the same dream – Going to America. We shared a lot in common, though we didn’t know it then. After all, how were we supposed to know when we had just met, and you were hitchhiking our ride?
On Thursday morning, October 18th, 2018, at our different locations, we woke up early to start the journey of making our dream American come true. I put on my navy blue high-waist skirt and white shirt, and you put on your dark jeans with a denim blue jacket. We didn’t know this was the day we would meet. Only the heavens knew.
When I arrived at the International School Uganda along Entebbe Road, I was not allowed to sit the SATs because the name on my identity card didn’t match the registered name for the tests. The registered name was Elisabeth, yet I am an Elizabeth. For the next three hours, I sat outside the examination room waiting for my schoolmates.
When the SATs were completed, I waited for the other Namagunga girls who had sat the tests to join me, and we head back to Lugazi. You approached me and asked if our teacher would allow you to hitch our ride. Fortunately, our teacher was selfless and allowed you to join us. I would be lying if I recall what we talked about in that short journey, but I am confident we goofed around since you were from a single sex boys’ school (Kiira College Butiiki) and we were from a single sex girls’ school (Mt. St. Mary’s Namagunga).
If my memory serves me right, I may be the person who requested that we take selfies. We exchanged Facebook usernames and parted ways.
A year later, senior six (final year) results came out, and I didn’t perform well. Makerere University didn’t give me architecture, my dream course then; in fact, I failed to land admission even to the easiest courses. Kyambogo University threw my papers away, and the only Ugandan university willing to take a bet on me would cost an arm and leg to afford attending it. The worst bit, all the American colleges I had applied to replied with rejection letters. After all, I had not managed to do the SATs.
But what I didn’t know was that all these failures were leading me back to meeting you, Patrick. African Leadership University had just opened up not more than two years ago in Rwanda. It was dishing out scholarships like a mother generously lays her life for her kids. The day I walked through the doors of Kigali Heights, our eyes met, and it was the talk of, “Oh, I have met you before.” Just like that, you became that human I would always reach out to and hang out with. One of the few people in life who never ever judged me for my “boyish” lifestyle and always believed in me.
I recall the first time I wrote my resume/cv, I barely had anything to write. I reached out to you for help, and we fabricated every kind of nonsense we could. When I landed an interview, you celebrated the win. As I prepared for that interview, you gave me all the words to say and repeatedly reminded me that I was going to get the job. And when I told you I finally got the job, you celebrated my win as if it were your win. Unfortunately, COVID came, and we had to return to Uganda, but the bond we had built didn’t weaken. You introduced me to like-minded fellows who continue to challenge me to become a better person.
Both of us, our dream to travel to America, seemed to have died. In fact, in our Facebook messages when we still held onto the American dream, you texted and said, “I quit.” Life had moved on. But an opportunity presented itself for me. I reached out to you and told you I was looking for money to cover some of the many fees I had to pay, like documents and flights. You didn’t hesitate but immediately sent me money. You still celebrated my win like it was yours.
Life happened, but you ended up in China on one of the most prestigious scholarships in China. It wasn’t surprising because you were always a high achiever. You bagged your master’s and went back home.
The summer I spent in Uganda, I thought we could meet and hang out. One of our friends in common, from Liberia, had traveled to Uganda to see you before he could travel to France. He linked up with me and another friend who you had connected both of us with, and we spent the evening at Acacia laughing and reminiscing about our past and our hopes for the future. We kept saying, “I wish Patrick traveled from Jinja to join us.” We agreed that we would travel to Jinja one day and spend time with you.
And when you started to get a potbelly, you always checked in with me, even though I laughed at your potbelly. You got serious with the gym and always reminded me that my adherence to working out inspired you.
I came to the USA once again without meeting you. But you were always reminding me that you were excited for my book to finally get published. You had promised to be one of the first people to buy a copy of my book.
After nearly seven years, your American dream came to pass, and you joined your family in California. We had planned the visits I would make to California and hang out with you. We had so many dreams and always reminded each other, “If we make it in life, we have to uplift each other.”
Unfortunately, I don’t know how I can now uplift you as you lie speechless physically, but busy educating the other angels in heaven. The news of your death crushed every bone in my body. Your birthday passed, but adulthood had me moving up and down, thinking I would make a call sometime when I am relaxed and settled. Indeed, part of adulthood is learning to live with the quiet grief of those we have lost.
It hurts that I won’t be there to pay my last respects, but I want to let you know that you are one of the people who, at just our age, had a great run in life. You inspired me and always challenged me. Your level of intellectual indulgences always inspired me to aspire for more. I am confident you are already chilling with the other greatest intellectuals like Aurelius, Socrates, Aristotle, and Plato and arguing over the most mind-blowing topics.
Rest in peace Patrick Karekezi.
Friends of the late Patrick are running a fund to help support his family during this difficult time. Your support will be appreciated.
link to donation: https://www.supportnow.org/patrick-karekezi
