Service meets Origin : From dreaming to doing.
“Fifteen years ago, I left Zambia carrying hopes too big for the borders of my home country—dreams of making something meaningful of my life, of one day returning with more than just memories.
This year, that day came. I left as a teenager with a quiet hope that I would return to give back in a way that truly mattered.
In partnership with Surgicorps International, I returned home—not as a visitor, but as a volunteer — joined by best friend, Shanique, who stood by my side every step of the way. We had the privilege of joining a team of passionate providers on a mission trip that performed 73 life-changing surgeries—and changed my life as well.
I returned a nurse with calloused hands, sharpened skills, and a heart ready to serve. But even before our first patient, I knew this trip would shape me.
Some moments were heavy — stories of pain, long waits, or desperate hope etched into every patient’s eyes. But having Shanique there, someone who knows my heart and shares the same heartbeat for service, made even the hardest days manageable. Between surgeries and wound care, we found strength in our friendship, laughter between tasks, and faith in every quiet prayer we whispered together while we savored every bite of nshima.
On our very first day, as we drove out of the compound, a group of locals stood by the gate waving at us. I can’t explain why that moment hit so hard—but it did. Maybe because I left through a gate like that 15 years ago, uncertain of what lay ahead. And now here I was, coming back—with purpose. That simple wave felt like a welcome home I didn’t know I needed.
Walking into the hospital each morning, I didn’t just see patients—I saw reflections of my younger self. I saw aunties, neighbors, schoolmates. I heard the rhythms of my mother tongue echoing through pre-op rooms and recovery wards. I felt, in a way I hadn’t in years, that I was exactly where I belonged.
As part of the OR team, I assisted in surgeries that restored mobility, corrected deformities, and gave people their dignity back. I also spent time in pre-op calming nerves, and in post-op offering reassurance in a language only we understood.
One of the most meaningful parts of this mission was being able to speak Bemba with patients. I served not just as a nurse, but as a translator, a cultural bridge, and a familiar face in a sea of strangers. To be able to say, “Walabafye bwino, epondi, twalakusunga fye bwino.” (“You’re going to be okay, I’m here with you and we will take good care of you”)—and have it mean the world to someone—or help explain a procedure to a worried patient, mother, father, or guardian—was a gift I’ll never forget.
Being there with the surgeons, explaining post-op care and bridging gaps in understanding, was a quiet form of healing all its own.
Serving people in the country that raised me felt like closing a loop—like returning to finish something sacred. This wasn’t just charity work. This was community work. My community.
We performed mostly reconstructive surgeries and nerve transfers, serving patients across all age groups.
One story that stays with me is that of a young mother—maybe 15 years old. After her surgery, I found myself holding her baby while she recovered. I don’t remember all the medical details—but I remember the weight of that child in my arms, and the quiet trust she placed in us. That moment grounded me more than any title or training ever could.
Another was a young girl with a burn contracture who reminded me so much of my little cousins. She was shy, afraid at first. But after surgery, when she was able to stretch her arm for the first time in years, her smile lit up the ward. That smile is etched in my memory. It was a reminder of why we do what we do.
Returning home as a nurse was more than a career milestone. It was a full-circle moment of healing—both for the patients I cared for, and for the part of me that had longed to give back to the place that shaped me.
This trip reaffirmed everything I believe about healthcare: that compassion transcends borders, and that service rooted in love can transform lives.
To my fellow Zambians abroad—or anyone considering a medical mission, whether you’re a healthcare professional or simply someone with a willing heart—I say: go. Your presence carries power. Your return might just be someone else’s miracle.
And if you’re wondering if missions like these really make a difference—they do. Not just for patients, but for us as volunteers too.
This mission wasn’t just about medicine or giving back. It was also about connection — to my roots, my purpose, and to people who pour into me. Shanique, thank you for being more than a friend — for being a sister in service.
This trip reminded me why I chose healthcare—not just to treat illness, but to restore dignity and hope, especially where access to care is limited. It also reinforced my dream of continuing global outreach—particularly in countries like Zambia, where skilled hands and warm hearts can change the course of an entire family’s future with a single surgery.”
This is my full circle homecoming –
With love and pride,
Kalaba
