Instead of black, I wore a flowery printed skirt the day I met Josephine. She was the mother of Robina, the 15-year-old girl we sponsored for ten years. Together we planted a mango tree in her daughter's memory.
Two mothers honor the life of a daughter.
Josephine must have run out of hope the day she sold Robina to a man from their village. When I first heard the story, my heart broke, “How could this have happened?” I thought it would’ve been for a large sum of money, but, no. Robina was sold for a kilo of sugar and a bar of soap. Perhaps Josephine was tired of being filthy from digging for roots to feed her other children. Maybe she wanted sugar to ease the taste of her bitter, muddy-water tea. My mind cannot even begin to imagine…
My rage and disgust turned to mercy and forgiveness. I saw a mother who felt she had no options. My heart went out to Josephine the day we first met. She threw herself at my feet, begging me to forgive her, and not to turn her over to the police. Her arms were muddy from digging for roots, and working in the fields. The purple traditional dress she wore was filthy but she walked her steps towards me with eloquence and regret. Her eyes were streaming tears of shame and guilt beyond imagination, for her act of hopelessness resulting in “our” daughter’s untimely death. I knelt down to pick her up, and said, “The only one we bow to, is the one neither of us are worthy to approach, his name is Jesus.” She stood up, and wiped her tears with her dress. I motioned for her to sit next to me. She continued to try to bow to me for mercy, but I kept motioning for her to stand up and sit by me.
I’m sure her mind replayed the moment she realized Robina was pregnant by the man she sold her to. It’s possible she remembered all the lies she’d told to keep her pregnancy secret, so she could continue to keep Robina in school. Robina’s trunk was packed and ready for High School, but her mom kept telling people, “Robina has a headache and can’t go to school yet.” The truth was, Josephine had taken Robina to a witch doctor and gotten herbs to abort the baby, but after taking the potion, Robina bled to death. I got a text that same night, saying. “It is unbelievable that Nakikandwe Robina is dead.” I was shocked!
And there I sat with Josephine and told her God is a God of mercy. She was surprised when I said I did not come to judge her, nor was I mad at her, and I was not going to call the police to put her in prison. I said, “I forgive you.” She sobbed, and sobbed. I said, “If you ask God for forgiveness, He is faithful to forgive, and clean you from all things you do wrong.” She asked for forgiveness that day, and will never be the same.
I’ll never be the same either. I’d only read about mercy triumphing over judgment through the blood of Jesus. That day, I lived it out. I got the unique and life-changing opportunity to truly let mercy and the kindness of God lead someone to repentance. Someone I’d judged harshly, someone not deserving of forgiveness, and yet, I couldn’t do anything but forgive, because God was forgiving her through me. It was marvelous.
Josephine and I planted a fruit tree in memory of Robina that day. As we did, I quoted the scripture, “Unless a seed falls to the ground and dies, it remains single, but if it dies, it produces much fruit.” I believe the fruit from the seed of Robina’s life will be for Josephine and the people of the village to remember that mercy truly triumphs over judgment. Only God can work that kind of forgiveness into someone’s heart. For that I’m thankful and free. So glad I didn’t wear black but chose flowers instead.