07/01/2026
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It began as a small, stubborn idea in March, the kind of thought that arrives quietly and refuses to leave. Mike Brooks sat with coffee and a map, and the question slipped out: What if we could bring Christmas to children who have never had one? The idea planted itself and grew.
By June it had roots: a JustGiving page, meetings with partner charities, lists of villages, and a steady stream of messages and donations that felt like hands reaching across the ocean.
The Months of Making
The months that followed were a montage of ordinary miracles. People donated books, pens, clothes, underwear. Local businesses offered support. Volunteers folded, labelled, and packed.
Every small gift became part of a larger promise. There were late nights finalising logistics, phone calls to confirm transport, and the quiet, steady work of turning goodwill into a plan that could actually travel.
On Boxing Day we left. Fourteen suitcases, each heavy with hope and gifts, were loaded into a van at an hour when most of the world was still asleep. We drove through the dark toward Gatwick, hearts full and bodies tired, clutching letters from the charities that would open doors for us. We flew across continents and time zones until the African sky welcomed us.
The Villages and the Children
On the first Sunday we walked into Adacar village, then on to Okweny, Okwii, and Ajera. The children there had never had a present. They lived in mud huts, their laughter often muffled by the hard work of daily life. That day we reached 300 children. I remember a small hand, sticky with dust, hesitating before bursting into a grin that seemed to light the whole village.
On Monday we visited Vienna Vision School and the nearby villages of Orisai, Opolai, and Ajesa. Three hundred and fifty children gathered, curious and bright-eyed. We handed out books and pencils and watched as a teacher’s tired face softened into something like relief.
Tuesday took us to Vienna Primary School, then to Amootom and Okunguro, twice. Two hundred children received gifts that day, and we found room in our plans to give additional support to 100 more children whose names had arrived too late for the lists but not too late for our hands.
In Mbale we partnered with the Muslim Charity for Children and reached 200 children there. The welcome was warm, the need obvious, and the gratitude deep.
Dignity, Work, and New Beginnings
We did more than hand out gifts. We gave dignity. We distributed bras to 200 women, small items that carried big meaning.
We bought five manual sewing machines for families so adults could start earning, sewing and repairing clothes to feed their children. When a sewing machine was handed over, a woman’s eyes filled with a future she could almost touch.
We committed to education because hope without schooling is fragile. We are supporting 5 girls to attend Vienna Vision boarding school for two years and 3 children to attend the Muslim school in Mbale. Eight children now have a path that did not exist before.
A Night to Remember
On New Year’s Eve we did something no one in Adacar village or across Teso District had seen before: we threw a party. Five hundred adults and children came. We paid for police attendance and private security so everyone could celebrate safely. We provided food and drink for all and handed out 200 Terry’s Chocolate Oranges to share. For one night, under unfamiliar stars, music and laughter filled a place that had known too much hardship. People danced until their feet ached and then danced some more, and for a few hours the world felt kinder.
The Numbers That Hold the Story
• Children reached across visits: 1,150 (Sunday, Monday, Tuesday totals)
• Additional children supported: 100
• Mbale partnership children: 200
• Total people supported with gifts: 1,850
• Girls supported with two years of education: 8
• Women helped with bras: 200
• Families given sewing machines: 5
• Adults enabled to start businesses: 5
These numbers are not just figures. Each one is a face, a story, a small life nudged toward possibility.
Moments That Stayed With Us
There are images that will not leave me. A child opening a present and looking as if the world had rearranged itself for them. A mother pressing her palms together and whispering thanks so soft we almost missed it. A girl clutching a school uniform and promising herself she will learn everything she can. An elder offering the only mango they had, insisting we take it. A teacher promising to use every donated book as a bridge to a brighter tomorrow.
There were tears, not the kind that break you, but the kind that open you. We cried when we saw how much a single sewing machine could mean. We cried when a whole village sang for us at dusk. We cried when we realised how many lives had been touched by people who had never met these children but had chosen to care.
What This Means Going Forward
This was not a one-off. We will keep our JustGiving page open. We will continue to support these children and their communities for as long as it takes. We will return. We will fund education, buy tools that create work, and stand beside families as they build futures.
If this story moved you, if it made your chest ache or your eyes sting, know this: your kindness can be translated into real, measurable change. We have seen it with our own eyes. We have held it in our hands. We will keep going.
fans Tameside Reporter Tameside Correspondent Tameside Radio Andy Cannell
