Essential Resources for Community Empowerment

Throughout my life, I’ve often wondered why Africa has held such a deep and lasting place in my heart. I was born into a modest family in a small Swiss village, the third of four children. My grandmother, who lived with us, was a guiding influence. Each year, she donated a small amount to support a child orphan in Africa. We awaited the treasured photo of “our child,” which would come with a name, one of us siblings chosen to receive it. I still cherish the photo of Cecilia, a child in Africa—perhaps the first seed planted in my heart, nurtured by my family.

Occasionally, a missionary would visit our village, bringing stories and grainy black-and-white films of their work in Africa. As a young child, this event was thrilling, and I’d sit in the front row, eyes wide open, taking in the scenes of African landscapes, towering palms, and children who had no family of their own. I was captivated. One Christmas, I received the gift I’d longed for—a Black doll. My sister Lisbeth and I spent hours playing together, our imaginations traveling between Switzerland and Africa.

Over the years, my thoughts of Africa grew stronger, and during my nursing studies, the pull to go there became undeniable. I knew I had to make this journey. I left as a volunteer to Zambia, knowing it would be difficult for my family. My parents saw me off with heavy hearts, realizing they’d have little news from me for two years. Yet, they never discouraged me.

Life in Zambia was hard, but the joy and resilience of the children, with their tender smiles, made every challenge worthwhile. Those two years were trans-formative, teaching me to see what truly matters. In this remote world, I found treasure in the simple things—and in Mario, who loved Africa as much as I did. When my contract in Zambia ended, Mario was finishing his medical studies, and I returned to Switzerland to learn Italian so we could build a future together. After Mario completed his training, we were ready to return to Africa. This time, with our baby daughter Manuela, we went to Guinea Conakry.

Under vast blue skies and surrounded by warm hearted people, we found a home away from home. Life in Guinea was challenging but deeply fulfilling. Our son Andreas was born prematurely, and soon after, Mario had an accident and passed away. Africa had given me so much, yet now I felt a deep loss.

Back in Switzerland, I began a new chapter with my two children. Though life had changed, Africa stayed close to my heart. Five years later, Daniele, an old friend of Mario’s, entered our lives, and we eventually moved to Italy, where our family grew, and my children became independent.

On one of our many travels, we found ourselves in Botswana, where the natural beauty—the Okavango Delta, the Kalahari Desert—felt like home. But behind the beauty lay hardship: poverty, marginalization, and despair, especially among the San people. Their stories left an indelible mark on me. Witnessing their suffering, I felt compelled to stay and to make a difference, however small.

With Daniele’s support and the help of friends and family, we created a safe haven for children—a place where they can grow in a caring, joyful environment, free from hunger, cold, and injustice. Here, children can take their first steps toward education, toward a hopeful future. Without Daniele’s belief in me, this dream might have remained a dream.

Thank you to everyone who has trusted in me, in our mission, and in the people who dedicate themselves to this cause. To our loyal supporters, who are the backbone of our project—thank you from the bottom of my heart.