Hope, My Little Friend
Dedicated to the students of Polytechnic School
When I arrived at Polytechnic School to speak with the Global Scholars class, I expected to share my story. But what I didn’t expect was how deeply I would be seen. These students knew more about my country’s history than any audience I’ve spoken to in the last twelve years. They were young, but their understanding was profound — not just intellectual, but deeply human.
They had studied Rwanda’s past, the legacy of colonialism, the history of division, and the tragedy of the genocide. They approached those lessons not with detachment, but with empathy. As I spoke, I didn’t have to over-explain. I didn’t have to translate pain into simplicity. They already understood.
Their eyes held curiosity, compassion, and something rare: wisdom beyond their years. In that room, I felt safe enough to be fully vulnerable. I allowed my heart to speak freely, to tell them the truth, the grief, the beauty, and the hope that have shaped my journey.
Days later, on a quiet Monday morning, I was journaling with a cup of my coffee when an email from their teacher, Rick, appeared in my inbox. Inside was a link to a reflection wall. Messages written by all twenty-eight students I had spoken with.
As I read each one, I could feel their heartbeats in every line. They spoke about empathy, forgiveness, courage, and hope. They wrote about feeling history differently, not as a list of dates and facts, but as a living story carried in the human heart. One student quoted my words: “Hope is like a little friend that walks with you through life.”
Reading their reflections, I felt that same little friend walking beside me again. Hope.
Hope that the world is healing through young hearts like theirs. Hope that the future will be gentler because of the love and awareness these students already carry. Hope that educators like Rick continue to plant seeds of compassion that will grow into entire forests of change.
They reminded me of something I often say: there are more good people in the world than bad ones — it’s just that the angry voices are louder. But in these students, I saw goodness speaking loudly. I saw love expressed with confidence, intelligence, and grace.
They gave me hope, not the soft kind that hides in the distance, but the radiant kind that stands beside you, quietly whispering: keep going.
To the students of Poly, thank you for receiving my story with open hearts. Thank you for your wisdom, your presence, and your light. You remind me that the future is already in good hands.
Hope is not something we wait for. It’s something we practice together.
