“Meeting Point is my life. Because the life of my children belongs to Meeting Point.”
These are the words of Joyce Odida — a mother, a widow, and a resilient woman whose life has been marked by loss, struggle, and, above all, hope.
Joyce is 56 and lives in the heart of Acholi Quarters, a bustling, densely populated suburb of Kampala, Uganda. Her home is humble, yet rich in the warmth of family and memory. Her late husband, passed away in August 2003 and when he passed, Joyce was left with four young children to raise alone. Her youngest, Ben, was just nine months old.
It was during that time of profound grief and uncertainty that she first encountered Meeting Point International (MPI). She joined in December 2003 — just a few months after her loss — and slowly, steadily, her life began to shift. MPI became not only a support system but a family.
For years, Joyce was a bright, spirited presence at the weekly MPI women’s gatherings in Kireka. Her laughter was contagious, her energy a source of comfort for others. She was the kind of woman you noticed immediately — full of life, with a heart wide open.
But in 2018, Joyce suffered a stroke that affected her mobility and speech. She fought her way back, slowly regaining some of her strength. But five years later, in 2023, a second, more devastating stroke hit. This time, it left her almost entirely dependent on others. She could no longer walk, her voice became faint, and the vibrant woman who once danced and sang at gatherings now faced long days of silence and stillness.
Despite it all, Joyce has remained deeply present in the lives of her children. She finds joy in simple moments — washing dishes alongside her daughters in the garden, watching them grow, helping where she can. Even when her body faltered, her love never did. And neither did the companionship of MPI.
Alongside her biological children, Joyce also raises Blessing — a girl she adopted when she was just six months old. The name wasn’t chosen by chance. Blessing was entrusted to Joyce by Rose Busingye and became, in Joyce’s words, “a gift beyond measure.” She is now nine years old, growing up wrapped in the same love and care that defines Joyce’s motherhood.
Over the past 22 years, MPI has walked every step of this journey with Joyce and her children. The organization has not only provided medical care and psychosocial support but has fundamentally transformed their futures through access to education. All of Joyce’s children — including Blessing — have studied through MPI’s support. Her eldest daughter became a nurse. Her youngest is enrolled at the Luigi Giussani Pre-Primary and Primary School. And Ben, that baby who was only nine months old when his father died, has now completed high school and is preparing to enter university.
We had the chance to meet Ben during our visit. He spoke with deep gratitude. His words were simple but full of weight: “MPI is not just an organization. It is for me a companion. A friend.”
The support Joyce received extended far beyond education. She credits MPI with helping her recover her speech after the stroke, and she beams with pride when she shares that she learned English through the program. Even now, with limited mobility, she communicates clearly — a powerful reminder of her determination and the healing made possible through care and community.
And despite the physical constraints, Joyce continues to show up in the lives of her children. When her daughter had a performance during the Music, Dance, and Drama (MDD) Day at Luigi Giussani Pre primary and Primary school, Joyce made the difficult journey to be there — even when it meant she wouldn’t have the strength to return home on her own. Rose, in a simple but deeply symbolic act of love, drove her back home, making it possible for Odida to enjoy the daughter’s performance without worrying.
Today, Joyce dreams of walking again. Not only for herself but so she can return to those weekly MPI gatherings, the women’s meetings that were once a vital part of her life. She misses the songs, the laughter, the shared stories. She misses the feeling of belonging, of being surrounded by women who carry one another through life’s most difficult seasons.
Yet even from her home, she draws strength from that community. The values of joy, peace, love, and friendship she learned through MPI continue to shape her days. They’ve become part of her — part of her children. They are the invisible threads that bind their family together.
When asked how she sees her life today, Joyce answers without hesitation:
“Without Meeting Point, I would not be alive up to now.”
Her story is not just one of survival. It is one of transformation — a living testimony to what is possible when people come together in solidarity, when women are seen and supported, when children are given a chance.
Joyce’s footsteps may now be slow, but they are steady. They are full of love. And they are carried forward by her community.
