On Monday, February 8 2010, I found hope again. And I found it here, in Ottawa.
It has been such a long journey.

I started my life in the small, impoverished city of Bwiza, in Burundi, one of the poorest countries in Africa, a country stricken by the ravages of a horrific civil war, which has, over the past 20 years, claimed the lives of many innocent people, including some of my relatives and dearest friends. The depravity and conflict in the place I grew up has generated another kind of poverty – the poverty of hope. It is a place where so many dreams cannot be fulfilled.

Yet some few decades later, I found myself on a cold February morning, here, in Ottawa, filling out a simple document at City Hall. I was one of many people in City Hall that day, all of us performing various tasks, some banal, some routine. But my life changed that day because of the simple, straightforward and uncomplicated process of formally filling out a form that would allow me to run for the position as your city counselor.

That morning, I was just another applicant. But in that moment, I was not judged, I was not criticized, I was not threatened. I was not fearful of the future, or concerned if my application would be honored, or if the eventual election would be legitimate.

You see, I was amazed and inspired beyond words. That simple and straightforward
filling of forms, at times a burdensome process to many of us, meant the world to me that day.