The author
My name is Christina Mukankaka and I am a certified Public Accountant (CPA). That what my business card states. Though I might talk about finances sometimes, this is my personal blog, and no professional advice will be provided here. Also I am much more.
I was born and raised in a small village in Southern Province of Rwanda, aka the country of thousand hills. My home was among the extended family residences, and it literally took a village to raise me, my seven siblings and several dozens of cousins.
The hills I grew up in without the people and homes who used to be there.
Here I am, in 2019 with my brother and cousins touring what used to be our property.
My mother didn’t have a formal education and could not write and read. We eventually taught her the basics. My father had an elementary education, and this made him one of the few educated in his extended family.
My parents wanted their children to get an education. Since my first grade, I had good grades, and I wanted to be a nurse. I was overjoyed when I was accepted in one of the nursing schools at 14 years old. After six years I graduated with honors, making my family and my teachers proud. My nursing career was short lived. I was lucky to survive the 1994 genocide against the Tutsis that shook my whole country and took close to 1 million lives. Among those, my parents, my four siblings, my husband, many friends, coworkers and neighbors.
In 1996, I had an opportunity to immigrate to the United States as a refugee with four dependents. I ended in Dover, New Hampshire. I was grateful and looked forward to moving on and to starting a new life. Sadly, I learned that my nursing credentials were not useful to me. I did not have any transcripts and there was not even a chance to try the tests out. I had two choices, do something different or go back to school and retake the nursing training all over. I decided to go back to school but not for Nursing.
After weighing in my options, I decided on a new career in accounting. I enrolled in a college and luckily, I found that not only I was good at it, but I enjoyed balancing numbers and getting behind them to understand the stories they tell. I have found a new home and a new community. Though I fondly remember my nursing days, I find pleasure working with finances and contrary to the common belief, most accountants possess high ethics and offer useful and fundamental services (Hold your thoughts we will have a conversation about this in a different post).
Fast forward in 2021, I remarried and moved to live in a new city (real City this time). I am a grandmother of two and I find myself reminiscent of my own childhood, my life as a whole. Places I lived, people I met, challenges overcame, lessons learned, and all the memories made.
Thank you for reading. You will get to know me and learn about my story, not necessary in a chronological order, as I try to sort it myself.
The Blog
When I was a child, my paternal grand father’s house, my uncle and my grandaunt’s houses were linked by these beautiful semi circle fences and gave to this big two level courtyard with a grass on higher ground, and a leveled lower space that we used to sweep clean. One seating there could see miles away. My house and my other uncles and cousins also were around or behind those, so no one left home or came back without the watchful eyes of the elders who usually sat there since sunrise to sun set, and maybe way after sun set. My first memories is seating or playing in this courtyard with my siblings and cousins as our parents and older relatives worked or just sat and hang around. Stories were told, pain was shared, joy was spread. Advices were given. Visitors, both distant relatives and strangers were welcomed. As children we learned to watch interactions between adults, watched conflict being resolved, parties being planned, and jokes being told, just pure joy of being together. We asked questions, we learnt to do basic work both by watching and hands on training. We were admonished and praised as appropriate both by our parents or any adult around.
When I grew up and moved away, I looked forward to visiting home. Then one day I found myself with the loss of those relatives and the meaning of that space without them. Though I found a new home, I struggled to create that space for my children and their children. The few relatives I have now are scattered across the globe, literally. So I decided to take advantage of the technology and build this grandma’s corner to tell my story and share my memories. Some that I remember as a child, I will attempt to see through the lenses of a mature woman and a grandma. I want to communicate my story, my experiences not only to my own but to other people out there who are thirsty and hungry for human experiences. This is the space; stay turned. Laugh with me, cry with me, probe me for more. It is my hope that as I start even more memories will come.