By Pastor Andrew
Some people are Deaf. Some are blind. Some are abused. Some face genocide. Some are rejected by their own family. Some are mocked by their own friends. Some struggle with lifelong depression. And then there are some – just a few – poor souls who tick every damn one of these boxes. Bambanze Herimann is one of them.
Is there any hope?
I meet Bambanze in the DMI Rwanda offices. He has a strong, cool, almost proud presence. Tall and muscular, he signs confidently, almost aggressively. He sports a colourful shirt. But this appearance betrays a long-fought depression and a hoard of hurts. He places his hands on mine and I begin to sign my introduction, all thumbs, my first attempt at tactile signing.
Bambanze was rejected at birth. His earliest memories involve isolation, sickness, deafness and depression. Even from childhood he suffered depression and self-loathing. He hated himself because he had no parents, no family, no friends, lived in abject poverty and, it seemed, everywhere he went he faced taunts of being cursed or crazy.
Could life be any worse than that?
In a word, yes. Then the genocide broke out. He remembers spending days trying to escape from the perpetrators of the genocide by hiding under the floor of a school building. It didn’t help. They caught him and forced him into their army. Somehow he survived, rescued by the Rwandan Defence Forces who trained him as a mechanic. At least now he had a skill. The war ended and he received enough support to complete a technical course as a mechanic. This was both liberating and oppressive: in Rwanda at that time, the Deaf were not allowed to drive so although he could repair cars, he couldn’t drive them!
His move to Uganda in 2004 was life-changing in two ways. Firstly, he met Rev Bulime who invited him to study at DMI’s Bible school, so he gained a new vocation. Secondly, his eyes became infected so he began to lose his sight. This led to a perplexing inner conflict. Facing multiple disabilities, he struggled with a deeper depression than he had ever known. Yet graduating from the Bible school and finding strength in God, his newfound hope enabled him to not only endure his depression but overcome it enough to live well.
But the personal turmoil continued. Bambanze served in ministry for 7 years under Pastor Goreth which he found richly rewarding but he lived with an aunt who treated him terribly. She told him how much she hated him, told him he should go and live by himself in the hills somewhere, told him he was a waste of space and then would spit in his face. He never fought her; he just wiped his face and kept silent.
There is hope, even for someone like Bambanze. Especially for someone like Bambanze.
He eventually married, received support for accommodation, had three children and began working part time as an evangelist. He looks genuinely happy as he tells me this. “I praise God for my beautiful wife and for the beautiful wedding we had. My aunt tried to destroy my family but I prayed and asked God to help me and to give my wife good thinking.”
I ask Bambanze what he sees for his future and he is forthright about it: “I need money. I need a sponsor, someone to support me and my family.” This leads to a sobering conversation. Of all the people who could do with a handout, who deserve a handout, it’s surely this guy. Yet even for a deafblind man who has spent most of his life neglected and abused, what he needs more than a handout is a fair go.
We’ve just spent the day in a business seminar for the Deaf arranged by DMI in Rwanda. Why don’t you apply for a loan and run your own business, I ask him? He agrees that this would be a more dignified approach to improving his life than just relying on someone else to throw cash at him. He promises to think about this and later gets back to me with a business plan, endorsed by Patrick, our Director in Rwanda.
Bambanze would like to buy a flour mill and build a small house where it can be stored and used. He and his wife will run the business to provide for their family and benefit many in the neighbourhood who have nowhere to mill their flour. At AUS6,250, the mill is not cheap. But it will provide a lifetime of employment and provision for Bambanze and his family, and bring security and peace to a life that until recently was characterised by hardship and torment.
If you would like to support Bambanze and his family with a flour mill, please give at https://deafmin.org/donate/ or click the red button below and reference ‘Bambanze mill’. Donations to the the mill are tax deductible.
I’m always surprised by everyone who you introduce. They have all been through hard times, but come up brimming with faith and confidence. It’s very encouraging and humbling.