By: Kathleen M. Carroll

In Uganda, family is everything.

For a young Pompilla (Pompy) Agalo, the lack of a family was a hurdle this bright, energetic girl could not overcome.

When her mother died, Pompy was only about 12. Because her father was from another ethnic group, and their relationship had never been formalized, her mother’s relatives increasingly saw the girl not as kin but as a burden — or worse, as an asset from whom they might profit. Fearing physical danger, forced labor, or even an early marriage arranged against her will, she did what countless uncounted children in northern Uganda have done: she set out in search of another life. She hoped to find her father, and with him, identity and belonging. She found the man, but not the stability she needed.

In Gulu, she found a temporary landing spot at a boarding school run by the Sisters of the Sacred Heart. She built a reputation for being rebellious and rowdy. This girl without a family often lacked the basics—a bar of soap, a bit of sugar. The Mother Superior of the convent helped with small gifts when she could, but as she got to know this restless, recalcitrant child, she knew that she needed far more. She needed a home, and the Sister knew just who could help.

Comboni Missionary Father John Scalabrini was already well known throughout Uganda as a builder of parishes, a founder of schools, and the driving force behind Bishop Cipriano Kihangire, one of the most respected Catholic secondary schools in the country. He had already supported hundreds of students. Out of options to remain in school, Pompy and the Sisters hoped he might sponsor her.

But when he met Pompy, Father John had another idea entirely. He saw past the behavior issues and attitude to the bright future ahead of this girl, if only she had the support she needed, if only she had a home.

He did not agree merely to enroll her. “You will be my daughter,” he told her. It was an adoption without procedure or paperwork. This was not unusual in Ugandan culture, and certainly not unusual for Father John. He had already built a family. There were those who lived in his home for a few days on their way to a more permanent setting, those he supported in school, and those, like Pompy, whom he cared for and raised like a father.

Skeptical at first, Pompy realized that she had no other option. She accepted Father John’s offer.

Life in the Scalabrini household was loud, prayerful, and demanding. Father John was always the “last to sleep, first to rise,” Pompy remembers. There were chores, meals, bedtime blessings, and, when the need arose, a firm, sometimes shouted, correction.

Pompy tested him at every turn, half-expecting—half-daring—him to tire of her and send her away. But he never did. The longer she stayed, the more she understood that his welcome was not conditional. She was no one’s burden now; she was someone’s child.

By: Sister Paola Moggi, CMS

In Sudan’s overcrowded refugee camps, where violence and scarcity are everyday challenges, the Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus (SHS) offer crucial support to fellow refugees.

The South Sudanese congregation, living in camps like Al Kashafa, provides spiritual care, trauma counseling, and practical aid to the thousands displaced by decades of conflict.

Spiritual Care and Practical Support in Al Kashafa

The Sisters’ presence is vital in White Nile State, serving refugees in Al Kashafa and neighboring camps such as Gemeyia and Jorry. They run catechesis programs, visit the sick, and offer solace to those suffering from hunger, abuse, and the emotional toll of displacement.

“Our main service is to listen to them,” said Sister Georgina Victor Nyarat, who has worked in Al Kashafa since December 2023. “People are really suffering.”

From Displacement to Service

The SHS congregation, founded in 1954 by Comboni Missionary Bishop Sixtus Mazzoldi in South Sudan, has experienced war and displacement firsthand.

After fleeing the First Sudan Civil War in 1964, the sisters sought refuge in Uganda before returning to South Sudan, only to be forced to flee again when the Second Sudan Civil War erupted in 1983. Since then, they have remained with their people, crossing borders to continue their mission.

In 2016, after violence escalated in South Sudan, Bishop Daniel Adwok Kur of Khartoum invited the sisters to pastoral care to refugees in Sudan’s White Nile region. They set up residence in Al Kashafa, a camp hosting over 150,000 South Sudanese.

The Sisters’ residence, constructed from plastic sheeting, is a humble structure, but their presence has been a lifeline for the displaced.

Discrimination and Immediate Needs

The Sisters serve not only as caregivers but also as mediators in a tense environment where host communities often mistreat refugees.

Sister Mary Achwany George, who has worked in Al Kashafa since 2016, noted that South Sudanese refugees face discrimination, including restrictions on collecting firewood and water.

Hermann Mahunan Djimini is a young Comboni Missionary from Cotonou, Benin. He was ordained a deacon on February 9, 2025. He shares with us his feelings and his dreams.

I am the second of six children in a Catholic family. I was introduced to the faith by my parents from an early age. We used to pray and go to Mass together. Each of us was involved in different groups in our parish. Before joining religious life, I took some psychology courses at university, which gave me useful skills for my future relationships with others.

When I announced my decision to enter the seminary, I felt the pain of leaving my parents and family. Still, fortunately, I had already been away from home during the formation courses I had attended. My parents and siblings were surprised by my decision, but they supported me all the way, especially with their prayers. But my decision did not come out of the blue. I began to feel the call to the priesthood when I was an altar servant in my parish – at that time served by a diocesan priest. I was fascinated by the priest’s way of life, and the way he related to people and welcomed everyone without distinction.

He was also very dedicated to his work. The workshops for altar servants, which I attended every year, also helped me to grow in my journey of faith.

One day I received a brochure about the Comboni Missionaries, which mentioned their dedication to the poor and the most abandoned. Although I had met them before, I had not had much contact with them. So, I contacted them and asked for more information. When I visited them, their life of service appealed to me.

I felt inclined to offer my life to God, especially at the service of the people, as its founder St. Daniel Comboni did. Moreover, when I read about his life, I was fascinated by his courage and his missionary zeal. All this contributed to my desire to become a Comboni Missionary.

From the beginning, I was impressed by their commitment to the mission, to working in difficult places. As missionaries, they take the risk of staying in certain difficult places because they believe that everyone has the right to experience God’s love, a conviction that our Founder passionately shared. I also appreciate the communitarian aspect of their missionary life.

From War-Torn Uganda to Middle America, Fr. Ruffino Ezama Shares His Story

By Inés San Martín

As Fr. Ruffino Ezama concludes his term as Provincial Superior of the North American Province, he reflects on his odyssey from Northern Uganda to leadership in the Comboni Missionaries, while always looking forward to the journey ahead.

Fr. Ruffino Ezama’s journey as a missionary began in the heart of Northern Uganda, a land that welcomed the Comboni Missionaries over a century ago. Born into a community deeply shaped by their  presence, his life bears the indelible marks of their service. He was baptized by a Comboni missionary, confirmed by a Comboni bishop, and educated at a school they founded. It was through their example — and the faith of his mother — that he found his calling to share God’s love with the world.

But his journey wasn’t without challenges. Fr. Ruffino lost his father on Christmas Eve, a tragedy that transformed his understanding of faith. “While growing up, I used to think the most important feast in the Church was Christmas, because there was the possibility of having a good meal and drinking a soda. Yet that December 25, when the whole world was around the crib celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ, my siblings, mum and relatives were around dad’s casket. Through this sorrow, I came to understand the newly born Jesus, Emmanuel-God with us as a God who is with us all the times of our lives till the end of days.”

Later, he would come to discover that “the most important feast is Easter, when we celebrate the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.” Consoled by his mother’s unwavering faith, Fr. Ruffino found hope in the promise of Easter and discovered his vocation: to bring life to those experiencing death, whether physical, moral, or spiritual. “As we read in John 10:10, I have come to bring life and life in abundance.”

One formative moment in the life of Fr. Ruffino came from a classmate named Taban, a South Sudanese refugee. When asked how often his family attended Mass, Taban’s response shook Fr. Ruffino: “Once every eight or nine months.” This scarcity of priests and sacraments planted a seed in his heart — a desire to bring the Eucharist and the hope of Christ to those who hunger for it.

Though his faith was strong, Fr. Ruffino acknowledges even today, that one of the biggest challenges he has had to face because of his YES to his call to the priesthood, was “being far from home, family, friends and loved ones. After the death of dad, mum was all for me. My joy was immense in her presence. Yet the moment I joined the minor seminary, I found a loving Mother in Blessed Virgin Mary. Mother Mary gave her only begotten Son for the salvation of the world. My mother offered me to the Church as a missionary with joy.”

“As the missionary is aware that evangelization implies following Christ even to the greatest testimony of love, he accepts situations of persecution and is even ready to unite the sacrifice of his own life to that of Christ,” Fr. Ruffino says, quoting the Rule of the Comboni Missionaries.

Ordained as a priest in 1994, Fr. Ezama has served in various capacities across Africa, including in Uganda and the Togo-Ghana-Benin Province. In January 2020, he made history by becoming the first African Provincial Superior of the North American Province of the Comboni Missionaries, overseeing missions in the United States and Canada. His work reflects the principles of the Society of St. Peter Apostle, which supports the formation of priests and religious in mission territories.

Today, Fr. Ruffino embodies the Comboni Missionaries’ vision of empowering local communities to become agents of change. Whether ministering in Uganda or the United States, his mission is clear: to help others recognize their God-given talents and use them for the good of their neighbors.

Inspired by St. Daniel Comboni’s principle of “save Africa with Africa,” Fr. Ruffino’s missionary endeavors have been centered in empowering the people to whom God has sent you to minister so that they become the change agents of their fellow brothers and sisters. “It becomes a moment of enabling the people to tap on their talents, potentials for the good of others. This applies anywhere I have been sent.”

Sometimes, however, missionaries need a little financial help to be able to help others tap into their talents. For those who may never set foot in mission lands, Fr. Ruffino offers this encouragement: “If you do not go to the missions by giving your lives, go to the missions through your prayers and financial support.” Your contributions make it possible for missionaries like him to bring hope and healing to the most remote corners of the world. Fr. Ruffino’s story invites us to consider how we, too, can share God’s merciful love with others.

Through your support, you are part of a legacy that transforms lives and builds faith, one soul at a time.

By: Kathleen M. Carroll

When Pope Leo XIV stepped onto the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica, he brought with him more than a new name — he brought the heart of a missionary shaped by dusty roads, parish kitchens, and humble service in Peru.

On May 8, 2025, as white smoke rose above St. Peter’s Basilica, history was made. The world learned that a humble priest from the South Side of Chicago — Robert Francis Prevost — had been elected pope. As Pope Leo XIV, he became the first American to hold the office and the second Latin America–formed pope in a row.

While Pope Francis brought to the papacy a deep missionary spirit rooted in pastoral service in Argentina, Leo XIV’s formation was shaped by decades of direct missionary work abroad — not just among the poor, but as one of them. His years in northern Peru, living among forgotten communities, fixing parish trucks, delivering oxygen to flood victims, and walking dusty roads as both priest and neighbor, gave him a missionary identity forged not in theory but in daily presence. His papacy rises not from prominence, but from proximity.

While much has been said about his American roots, it is Leo XIV’s missionary heart — forged in the deserts and dusty towns of Peru — that defines his papacy. His years among the poor, migrants, and working families of Chiclayo and Trujillo not only shaped his pastoral style but also ground his understanding of Church leadership in humility, presence, and accompaniment.

Chicago-Born, Peru-Formed

Born in 1955 on Chicago’s South Side, Robert Prevost joined the Order of St. Augustine in 1977 and was ordained in 1982. His early academic and pastoral work suggested a bright future, but his heart was drawn to the missions. In 1985, he accepted an assignment to Peru, joining the Augustinian mission in Trujillo, where he would spend the next fourteen years.

According to America Magazine, Prevost’s arrival in Peru coincided with one of the country’s most turbulent eras. The Shining Path guerrilla movement had ignited widespread violence, leaving entire regions gripped by fear. Prevost, however, embraced the risk.

“He served the Augustinian mission in Trujillo for eleven years during a period of great disorder,” writes Vatican journalist Gerard O’Connell, noting that he remained “calm and grounded” even amid the chaos.

In a 2023 interview, then- Archbishop Prevost reflected on the meaning of that missionary identity: “I still consider myself a missionary. My vocation, like that of every Christian, is to be a missionary, to proclaim the Gospel wherever one is.”

A Missionary on the Margins

Prevost’s missionary work wasn’t flashy. He did not seek headlines or titles. Instead, he offered faithful presence. In the parish of Our Lady of Grace in Trujillo, he celebrated Masses in chapels made of adobe and tin, baptized children whose parents had no formal documents, and walked alongside people who had been forgotten by government and Church alike.