A Brief History
of
Rev. Muwonge Expedito

I was born in Uganda on October 23^rd, 1957 to Christian parents who are now long gone. We are seven in the family, four boys and three girls. We had a good Christian training from an early age. This gave birth to having two priests and one sister in the family. I desired to be a priest at the age of seven. My training to the priesthood took me to Kenya, Nairobi where I had my final studies in theology. 

I am glad now to share with you some of the highlights of my ministry in Africa. I was ordained on August 20^th, 1989, for the diocese of Byumba in Rwanda, a country neighboring Uganda. I started well my priestly life. I served in a parish as an Associate pastor for one and half years. My main duties were daily celebration of Mass, taking care of the home bound by taking sacraments to them, especially during Christmas and Easter times, and religious instructions to the catechumens.

 In October of 1990, a war broke out between the Rwandan refugees of thirty years and the then government of Rwanda. This really started off my woes. Being a citizen of Uganda, a country that gave shelter to the returning refugees, my situation slowly became precarious.  I soon sensed danger. I asked my bishop to take a vacation back home in Uganda.  I left for Uganda in mid-September, 1991.  While in Uganda, I was assigned to serve in several parishes. My responsibilities were similar to those I had in Rwanda. It was during this time that I served many people who were dying of HIV/AIDS. Seeing these people dying away one by one after ministering to them impacted my heart. It was then that I started to realize the beauty and comfort people get when one takes care of them. I did this ministry for three years. I remember one time; I was called to anoint a man who was lingering with just hours to die. He was still able to talk but with great difficulty. He shared with me his heavy life story. He had concerns about his children and worried about their well-being when he was gone. I consoled him by putting to rest his fears. I shared with him what I knew about the help orphans get from independent organizations. After all this sharing, we prayed. He received the sacraments with gratitude. From his pain-twisted face, I looked at his eyes painfully shedding a few drops of tears and he said thanks!  This and many other instances helped convince me of the need, and deep meaning of comfort we ought to give people in need.

I remembered that in 1994 there occurred a terrible genocide in Rwanda. By then I was still in Uganda doing ministerial duties. This terrible event started soon after Easter in 1994. It lasted intensely for four months. When it was all over, a million people had perished. The church was not spared this big wound. In the diocese where I had worked, eighteen priests plus the bishop were killed. It was total chaos. Regardless of all that, I found the courage to go back and see what I could offer. In April of 1995, I ventured into the broken country of Rwanda. It was still bleeding from the terrible wound of genocide. Surprisingly enough, those who survived turned to God in droves. The need for priestly ministry was overwhelming. I had no choice other than to settle down to do the little I could. The overseeing bishop, who was in charge by then, put me in charge of two big parishes. I served these parishes as their pastor for two years, until other priests from other dioceses came in to give a hand. I celebrated the baptisms of more than 8,540 people, both infants and adults. I conducted marriages of more than 1,000 couples. The numbers might appear big, but it is for a reason. The war had gone on for such a long time that many church programs were disrupted.

There were persons I ministered to who lost their entire families to genocide. Here I have in mind one family that I still assist to cope with this big loss. An elderly woman of 65 years lost five children out of seven; four boys and one girl who was a mother of four beautiful children. This woman has a touching story of the death of her sons. She had to watch over the bodies of her sons for four days. She covered them with her own clothes. She kept vigil over them alone, and kept chasing the insects from the bodies of her dead sons. When it was discovered that her grandchildren were alive, she took them into her care. On many occasions I helped her find some food to feed these children. There was a lot to do, but little could I do given the circumstances. I encountered many orphaned children who needed care, but none was in sight. This always broke my heart.

I had challenging times going with family survivors to exhume the shallow graves where their loved ones got dumped in a hurry. We could then, with the program set up by the government, honorably humanize their cruel and sudden deaths, by giving them decent burials. I was with these people (families) at their lowest point in human form. It is such a feeling that will go with me to my grave. Much of what I do now, being there for those who suffer, has to do with the painful discovery made in such terrible sufferings.

After two years of almost being overworked, in 1997 I was relieved of one parish. I remained with one whose population was up to 30,876. These became my primary concern in the ministry. Many had just returned from the Congo (formerly Zaire). They had practically nothing with them. They came back to a country torn with strife of one kind or another. I was not to stay long to be of much help to them. I had to go back to Uganda where I worked for one year before coming to the United States.

I got help from one of my former theological professors, a Holy Cross priest, to find a place in the Diocese of Fort Wayne--South Bend. I arrived in the States in May of 1999. On arriving, I went through a period of two months of orientation with the diocese. I was assigned as associate pastor at St Michael in Plymouth Indiana. I joyfully worked in that parish for two years. It was from there that my deep desires to assist those in need re-awoke.  My heart turns to those I cared for and I feel a strong desire to continue ministering to those who are in need. In the same spirit of helping, I started to train for Hospital Chaplaincy at Lutheran Hospital of Fort Wayne in Indiana.  When my training was over, I sought a position as a Chaplain with the Sisters of St. Benedict and at the same time as part time Chaplain at St. Mary’s Hospital in Duluth, Minnesota.  It is my greatest desire to continue in this ministry as I seek help to assist those who need help.

After much prayer and consultation, I developed an idea to start the Association--Come To The Rescue Association. I have children of my relatives who are orphaned because of the HIV/AIDS epidemic. From 1993 I have lost my paternal uncle and his wife, two cousins and their wives, three cousins and their husbands and three children of the deceased relatives, the cause of death being HIV/AIDS epidemic.  I have been at the forefront helping these orphans in their day-to-day needs. As they grow, their needs increase. This situation prompted me to come up with the idea for the Association. It is the experience I have had of my own people dying of HIV/AIDS, the suffering and emptiness in children’s lives and the dire need of financial support that kids need that have increased the necessity for this Association.  My love and concern did not stop at the plight of my relatives only. I have now and again extended help to other children. As I said earlier on, in one way or the other I was connected to some families in Rwanda. There are five children that I took on and offered help soon after the genocide was over. They still need lots of help, and many more would be helped if they got someone to support them. My dear reader, this is where I stand at the moment. I need your support to be able to meet the needs of these children. With God’s help, I have faith that He who created them will enable us come up with ways that are good for their well being.