Written by: Admin_SheEvo
I’m just a village girl, and all I ever wanted to be was a farmer. I grew up in a quiet African village, in the South of Uganda surrounded by fields and nature, and it was there that I found my true calling.
I loved waking up early in the morning. The first light of day, when the sky turned pink and gold, was my favorite time. The rooster’s crow was my alarm clock, and I’d greet it with a smile. Walking through our small farm, the grass was damp with morning dew, and it felt like home.
My family had been farming for generations, so I had some big shoes to fill. But I was ready. I learned from my parents and grandparents, soaking up their knowledge as I plowed the soil and planted seeds. It was a legacy of hard work, patience, and a deep love for the land.
As days passed, I could see the land respond to my care. The seeds I planted grew into strong plants, and I felt proud. Our farm was full of crops, fruits, and vegetables. We didn’t just feed ourselves; we helped our neighbours too. They didn’t have to travel far for fresh food, and our village became stronger and more self-reliant.
In the evenings, I’d sit on the porch, looking at the stars and feeling grateful for the chance to be a farmer. I was more than just a farmer; I was a bridge between nature and the people in our beautiful village. Our farm wasn’t just a job; it was the heart of our community.
Becoming a farmer wasn’t just a dream come true for me; it was a dream come true for our entire village. It allowed me to use my love for the land to make a real difference. Every day, as I worked on the farm, I knew I was part of something important, something that made our village better.
When I stood in the fields, I knew I was right where I was supposed to be. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.