When I first landed in Burundi this spring, I was overjoyed to be met by family members and several old friends at Ndadaye Airport. It had been thirty years since I'd seen some of them, and others hadn't ever seen me in person.

My aunties, dressed in bright gold, brought red and white flowers, and my brothers embraced me with a heartfelt welcome. There were tears and laughter. It was a great moment of reunion and reconnection, reminding me of Joseph's family reunion in Egypt from Scripture.

I never thought you'd come.

Arriving at my relatives' home, I was welcomed to a party where we ate, laughed, and told each other everything we had missed in the years we had not been together.

"I never thought you'd come to Burundi," my aunties told me. "Now, you must bring your children also. Then they can return to their family to visit because they will feel at home with us."

My elderly father did not immediately remember who I was. It had been so many years, and his memory is slowly fading. But I told him the story of how he had come to say goodbye to my wife and children and myself in Kakuma Refugee Camp back in 2014. I showed him the pictures of that visit and called my wife and children on video call to remind him of their faces and voices.

"I remember now," he said. "I never thought I would see you again. I never thought you would come to Burundi."

Firstborn Honor

As I walked through the community with my brothers, I felt a sense of belonging I had never known before. They asked me for advice on their family matters and advised me on how to become a Burundian. Both the family and the government in Burundi recognize the place of responsibility and the rights of the firstborn son in family affairs. I could tell my family was eager for me to take that place because they honored me and sought my advice on many things.

One day during my visit, my auntie approached me and said, "I am giving you this piece of land so you can build a church." I explained that I would need to do many things with paperwork and government processes and that right now, I did not have time and could not build a church on the land, but I was so honored by her invitation and told her to keep the land and wait and see what God had planned. The churches in my home country also welcomed me with open arms and invited me to teach and share fellowship with them.

Exceeding Expectations

When the time came to depart my aunties asked, "Why did you come only for a week? Next time you must come for at least a month! And next time, you must bring your family home with you."

My visit to my homeland abundantly exceeded my expectations. I now feel like I have a home to return to and a sense that I belong like never before. I am grateful to God for the gift of returning to my homeland to reconnect with my roots.

What Matters Now?

As my family and I cried, laughed, reflected on the past, and dreamed about the future, I knew I could echo Joseph's words. In my paraphrase, "God was aware of all this; none should blame himself or anyone else. What matters now? The future is bright and more important than the past."

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Photo: Pastor Gatera teaching fellow pastors in Kakuma refugee camp (2014).