02/02/2022
TRIBUTE FOR THE LATE FR FRANCIS XAVIER OPONDO:
Lest we Forget
For us who grew up in Kolongolo. Fr Opondo commonly known as Fr OP by the locals holds a special place in our history. Indeed, many children now all grown were named after him. However, i don’t know if my three or so years of experience with him is enough for me to write a tribute for a man who has been around for almost 7 decades. It’s been 30 years now since the late Fr. Opondo left Kolongolo parish. I had the privilege to interact and work with the Fr as a young soul seeking to know God.
In our Sunday school and catechism classes, we would be told many times that we can only love God by loving each other. Lucky for us, we had a living example among us. Fr Opondo was a man full of love for humanity. Why do I say that?
Fr Opondo worked in Kolongolo parish at the pick of Multi-party democracy. Sadly our great Kolongolo paid the price for the political tension and tribal clashes. Many families were displaced and indeed many people paid the ultimate price. Though it is over 30 years now, the memory of decomposing bodies, quick burial rites, billowing smoke of burning houses, and the frightening sounds of heavy artilleries is fresh.
In the absence of mobile phones, first responders, counselors, hospitals food, Refugee/ IDP Camps etc. The community was left for fate and the mercy of God- Fr Opondo was the living angel of the time.
As a practice, once in distress, people would wail as they call the name of the home or village that had been attacked (That was the mobile phone of our dark days). Once the message got to the parish, Fr. Would wake up and drive to the scene even when the perpetrators were still there. With his old 4 setters off road-Wagon, the Goodman of God almost single-handedly responded to virtually all distress calls. He would drive the injured to a hospital 30 KM away. On some nights, he would do two or three trips. Some died on the way, others in the hospital while others lived to witness the mercy and love of God.
To the displaced, Fr, opened the doors of the church for them. As a young mass server, I remember the many times we had to move the beddings and the utensils from the church to create space for mass. As we cleared the church, Fr would be moving from family to family checking on their well-being and assuring them of a better tomorrow even when there seemed no hope.
To us, Fr Opondo was more than a Priest. He was a human rights activist, a community spokesperson, a father to the homeless, a Good Samaritan than God sent to us. In his signature smile and soft laughter, Fr OP was a source of peace and hope.
Now that I have come of age, I can only imagine the pain of feeling helpless and overwhelmed hosting hungry villagers, I can feel the pain of driving as people cry for dear life. And by the way where was the government.
Through actions, the man of God reminded us that pain, death, hunger, poverty, e.t.c don’t have a tribe or religion. Fr Opondo was a true definition of Christianity and humanity. May the perpetual light the soul of his faithful servant.
Like a passing cloud, so we pass.
By Joel NAKITARE (Journalism club member, Class of 2001
