Blessed.

That's the only fitting word to use.

On Sunday, July 11th, large crowds gathered in unison to watch a momentous event for Africa: the World Cup Finals. Being held for the first time in Africa, there was suspicion that Africa wouldn't be able to handle such an international event. But, seemingly, the entire tournament went flawlessly without a hitch. It was something for the entire continent of Africa to celebrate. And, that's exactly what the citizens of Uganda intended to do.

Joining the crowds of thousands of people, Michael, our friends, and I decided to join in the excitement to watch the final match between Spain and the Netherlands. Going to a local bar close to home, we arrived a few minutes after the game began. The place was packed. We searched eagerly for chairs around the bar with little luck. Everyone wanted to take part in this moment of history.

The place was exciting as people wore their "Africa United" jerseys, ate their meals, and squealed with happiness or dismay as football strikers passed the black-and-white ball across the field. It seemed like just another normal night.

At the end of the 90-minute match, the score was still 0-0. Just a little after 11:00 PM, the bar was filled with excitement and suspense as the match went into 30 minute overtime. The Orange Dutch and Blue Spainiards battled on the field as we all anxiously watched with anticipation. Preparing to gear up for a long match that would be settled with free kicks, there was suddenly a quick kick into the goal with only a few minutes on the clock, and with that, the Spainards put themselves in the lead. The crowd went nuts as Spain-supporters celebrated with joy, and Dutch supporters shook their heads with disappointment. "It's time to go." Agie said. I was tired, and it didn't look like there was any chance for the Dutch to make a comeback, so I was ready. Our other friends asked, "Why? Let's just stay til the end." "Kampala has been bombed. Let's go now." Confused, shocked, scared, I didn't know what happened. We left the bar as people continued to sit in their white, plastic chairs oblivious to the terror occurring right outside.

Speeding home, we asked for an explanation. What kind of bomb? Where? Is everything ok? Why? No answers. In five minutes, we were back home safe. Wanting to learn more, Michael and I peeked into the house manager's tiny room and asked to watch what was happening on the news. With only one channel, she was watching the celebration of Spain winning the World Cup. As the rest of the world rejoiced with Spain, we sat in a small room anxious to learn more, but completely clueless of anything.

The next morning, I woke up to a phone call. Agie, "Call your mom, she's worried." I called her immediately, thinking, "Oh man, I bet she's worried." With traces of fear in their voices, my mom and dad asked if I was ok over speaker phone. They went on to tell me that 64 people had been killed at two separate locations within the city, a number that would eventually rise to 74, with more than 70 hospitalized. Sadly, my parents, thousands of miles away, knew more information than I did. With internet down and limited access to a television, we knew nothing.

Later, we found more information from newspapers plastered across the city with gruesome uncensored pictures, learning that 2 suicide bombers (members of al-Shabab, an extremist Somalia Muslim group,with the intent to kill large Ugandan crowds because of Uganda sending peacekeeping troops to Somalia) walked into two local bars where large, innocent groups of people watched the World Cup. One bar was located less than a mile from where we watched the game that night. In addition, Michael and I had been to the other place that had been bombed on Friday night (less than 48 hours from the bombs) with our housemates. We're blessed. It could've been us. God is good.

Michael and I are safe. Security is high, and there have been numerous pledges for support from across the world. Our office is next to the high-security US Embassy, and everything seems to be slowly getting back to normal. We are still being extra cautious and staying away from large public places.

Thanks to everyone for the emails, text messages, Facebook messages, everything. Once again, I'm so blessed to be surrounded by people who care and love me so much. Thank you.

I've been in Kampala for almost 7 weeks now, and as I've repeatedly posted on this very blog, I've fallen in love with the people here. It pains me so much to see a city that is on the road to building itself up to now have to live in fear of terror. It's disheartening to see the progressive steps that Uganda has been taking toward positive change, and to know in the back of my mind, that there may be long-term setbacks to the well-being of Uganda's citizens.

That's why education is so important. A couple of weeks ago, I finished reading Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson, which details how Mortenson uses education to combat terror. When there is a lack of education and high poverty, people can become vulnerable to extreme beliefs in the hopes of achieving status or finding religious favor. Without opportunities for self-development, for them, the only way to lead a purposeful life is to kill others. They themselves are victims to societal terrorism, yet, ironically, they in turn begin perpetuating terrorism upon others. It's a never-ending cycle.

Mortenson's message resonates loudly with me now. The cure is access to education. People must be equipped with critical thinking skills and opportunities for self-development, so that their only option for "success" isn't seen as engaging in violence and hatred. Education brings awareness and understanding. When people learn about other cultures and how to deal with people, they are less likely to engage in such senseless violence. In no way did the deaths of 74 Ugandans solve any issues. In fact, it will only cause more. With education, people are able to equip themselves for advancement. They don't fall for just anything that a powerful leader tells them and automatically agree in order to receive favor.

Of course, my family and friends want me to come home. And, honestly, I'm ready to be reunited with everyone back in the States also. But, I came here to complete a project. A project that is even more important and close to me because of the attacks. I'm dedicated to the citizens of Uganda. While I must be safe, I can't simply run away from the issue. If Uganda ever needed help, the time is now. No, I'm not saying that me being here is going to dramatically change the lifestyle of Uganda. But, I can't simply abandon the people that I've grown to love. Through our project, EAC will be able to communicate to others the results of their wonderful work. EAC will be able to develop stronger, more efficient programs to benefit Ugandan children. Around the world, people will be more aware of global education issues, and maybe, just maybe, there will be some kind of change for progress in Africa.

And for me, that maybe is worth it all.

See you soon.

-Nick