A Year Ago: The Journey That Changed My Life

By Bayama Wymon — Hope 4 Liberia

May 22, 2025.

That date will forever hold a special place in my heart. It marks exactly one year since we brought in the very first 14 children to Hope 4 Liberia’s orphanage — 14 little lives, each carrying their own stories of loss, resilience, and unspoken hope.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. It was my first official day of work with the orphanage, and though I had just taken employment, God was already setting something deep in motion within me. I was asked to join the team of staff sent to the villages to bring the children home. My role was to serve as the photographer and videographer — to capture the moments that would tell the story of what God was doing.

We left as early as 5:00 a.m., riding through the darkness on the dusty, bumpy roads of Liberia’s interior. The roads, as anyone here would know, are barely passable in places, but there was joy and anticipation in our hearts. I had never visited these villages before, and I had only read about the children. The night before, my mind was full of questions: How would they receive me? How would I feel seeing them for the first time? Would I be able to handle the emotions of the day?

But what I didn't realize then was that this wasn’t about how I would receive them — it was about how God would use them to transform me.

When we arrived in the first village, I saw their tiny faces light up with expectation. Some were shy, others bold, all of them hopeful. That was my first time meeting them — and my heart nearly burst. Their small arms reached out for hugs, their little eyes spoke stories of pain, uncertainty, and yet, a spark of joy. I wept in my heart that day. I didn’t expect that depth of connection so quickly.

After the formalities of receiving them from their caregivers, we loaded them into the vehicle and started the journey back. Some were tired. Some were anxious. Some were so hungry their little bodies were limp. But in every face, I saw hope. I saw what God sees.

One moment in particular changed me.

In the next village, we met a little girl named Bendu. I’ll never forget her. She was sick with fever and malaria, standing alone by a packed bag, tears rolling down her cheeks. No one told me she was one of ours — but my heart knew. I walked to her, scooped her frail body into my arms, and wiped her tears. It was as if in that moment, God said, This one, she is yours too.

From that day, Bendu held a special place in my heart.

We returned to the orphanage at 8:00 p.m. after a long, exhausting day of traveling from village to village. The compound came alive as all 14 children stepped foot on the soil of what would be their new home. And that day didn’t just change their lives — it changed mine.

As a young man, fresh from college with degrees in hand, the world teaches you to chase titles and positions. But God called me to this — to be a Bible teacher, a media man, a groundskeeper, an uncle, and a big brother to these precious children. And in this calling, I have found more purpose, more joy, and more life than I ever could have imagined.

The bond we’ve built over this year is unbreakable. They call me Uncle Bayama. Some, Big Brother. And even when I leave the compound for a few hours, I miss them terribly. They are family. They are home.

I recently spoke with my own sister, and she asked me, “Do you have another person whom you love more than me?” I could only smile because, in truth, my heart has grown to hold so many dear ones — these 14 beautiful lives that God brought into my path.

I share this story to honor what God has done. One year later, these children are healthy, laughing, learning, and dreaming. They’re no longer orphans — they’re part of a family. And so am I.

To anyone reading this — I want you to know that the work of caring for vulnerable children is holy ground. It’s not always easy, but it is always worth it. The joy I see in their eyes, the laughter that fills this compound, and the hope that now shines from their lives is a testimony of God’s goodness.

May the Lord continue to bless Hope 4 Liberia, these precious children, and all who partner with us in this mission. May He raise up this generation to be leaders, preachers, nurses, teachers, and light-bearers for Liberia and beyond.

And may we, as God’s people, always remember the words of James 1:27:

“Pure and undefiled religion before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.”

To God be all the glory.