Sister Margie in Tanzania

“I’d like to share highlights from my recent visit to Ukara Island, near Mwanza, in the middle of Lake Victoria, Tanzania. Ukara Island is the most remote island in the Tanzanian side of Lake Victoria. About 22,000 people live there.

To reach the island, we first took a 1.5-hour flight from Dar es Salaam to Mwanza. From there, we boarded a large ferry to Ukerewe Island, a 3.5-hour trip.

Our journey began at 2:30 a.m. without breakfast, and we didn’t board the ferry until around 11:00 a.m. There were no seats available, so we had to stand. Some kind men offered us a seat for a short while—about 30 minutes—but then we stood again. Still, we arrived on time and waited a bit longer to board a second ferry to Ukara Island.

I returned to the parish about an hour later. By then, around 200 boys had already begun their tests, and the others were still waiting for the test papers. I began checking the completed tests. Since we couldn’t interview all 400+ children, we made the difficult decision to only interview those who scored more than 18 points.

The children looked exhausted after sitting in the classrooms for hours. In my classroom alone, there were about 80 students. I asked, “Who has had breakfast today?” It was nearly 1:00 p.m., and not a single hand went up. None of them had eaten. I asked the school director if we could at least buy some biscuits. We bought 200 packs and divided them—each child received about six or seven small biscuits.

Only then did they begin to talk and smile. Before that, they had been silent from hunger and exhaustion. I believe their test results were affected by this; they hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since early morning. In the end, we selected around 50 children who scored above 18. The rest, sadly, we could not offer places for.

But one boy stayed in my heart.

After our final interviews, around 5:00 p.m., we called for four motorcycle drivers. We had selected seven children for home visits. Each Sister went with one or two children, visiting their homes and dropping them off. As we neared our last stop, in the middle of a busy village filled with people, children, and the smoke of cooking fires, I saw Rigobert. 

Amid the noise and motorcycle engines, I spotted a boy wearing the same shirt. He was smiling. I called out, “There’s Rigobert!” I said, “I found you! I was looking for you.” He led us to his home, where we met his grandmother, an 86-year-old woman who could neither hear nor speak. She was sitting on the dirt floor. Neighbours gathered and told us his story.

Rigobert’s mother died when he was seven. His father died soon after. He now lives with his grandmother, who is too ill to care for him, and the neighbours help as much as they can. He also has an eye infection and cannot see in one eye.

Sister Vialeth and I immediately decided to accept him. He truly is one of the poorest boys we’ve met. We believe his eyesight can be treated with proper care. When we reviewed his test paper, we saw that he missed the cut-off by just two points. He has great potential.

Yes, this mission is not easy. The journey is long, the conditions are difficult, and everything is costly. We pay for each step, each meal, each place we stay—because the people here have nothing to give to religious Sisters for free. There is little water; we couldn’t even wash our habits or clothes properly. We simply had to dry them and wear them again. But it’s okay, because we know how precious these children are. Even if we cannot help them all, we can help some. And those we help may one day help others.

We cannot change what has already happened in the lives of the children we serve, or those we are still trying to reach. But we can walk with them now—offering love, opportunity, and hope. Rigobert, like so many others, deserves the chance to heal, to learn, and to dream.

Sr Margie Cheong, Sisters of Mary, Dodoma, July 2025