From the Streets to Self-Reliance: My Journey of Hope

My name is Okello Denis Mubiro, and this is my story.

Life changed for me when I was just eight years old. My mother had separated from my father, and before we could find our footing, she passed away. That moment left a scar I didn’t fully understand at the time. My siblings and I went to live with our grandmother, Alice Atoo, a kind, determined woman who took us in with open arms, despite having so little herself.

She did her best for us, but school fees were more than she could manage. I had to drop out in Primary Five. It was heartbreaking. I wanted to learn, but I also knew my grandmother needed help. So I began taking on odd jobs like laying bricks, working at construction sites and whatever came my way to help support my younger siblings.

That’s when things started to shift. I began spending more time with older boys who introduced me to drinking and staying out late. At first, it was fun. It felt like I belonged somewhere. Even when people started calling me “Aguu” — as most young people on the streets are referred, I wore the name like a badge. At least people noticed me.

My grandmother was worried. We argued a lot. She begged me to stop working and stay home more, but I didn’t see a way out. I didn’t have choices, just survival.

Then one afternoon, while roaming the streets as usual, a lady from Hashtag Gulu approached me. She had seen me around and asked me questions no one else had ever asked: “Where do you live? Why aren’t you in school? Who takes care of you?” I wasn’t sure what to make of her, but something about her kindness made me open up.

She invited me to their office. I hesitated at first, I thought maybe there was quick money involved. But what I found was something much better: a second chance.

At Hashtag Gulu, I was introduced to a program where I could learn practical skills. When they announced recruitment for an agriculture training, I jumped at the opportunity. I told my grandmother, and for the first time in a long while, I saw real joy on her face. She said, “This is the beginning of something new.”

Training was intense but unforgettable. We learned about piggery, poultry, horticulture, and even got counselling and business lessons. Slowly, I stopped drinking. I started believing in myself again. I realised that change is possible if you are willing to reach for it.

When I completed the program, one of our trainers helped me get a job as a farm attendant. Today, I look after pigs and chickens, and I’m learning every day. Hashtag Gulu even gave me two piglets to kickstart my own project. I dream of building a full animal farm, buying land, and putting up a home for my grandmother and siblings — the people who never gave up on me.

My grandmother recently said, “I used to worry so much not knowing what would become of you, Denis. But now, I am hopeful. You have changed, you respect me, you work hard, and you have stopped associating with those street friends of yours.” Her words meant everything. Yes, I am no longer the boy wandering the streets. I am a young man with a plan, skills, and purpose. And for the first time in a long time, I truly believe in my future, and I won’t stop until I build it.

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