For eighteen-year-old Brian Kansiime, the world wasn’t made of words or stone; it was made of patterns. Where others saw a chaotic market day in Kabale town, Brian saw an intricate system of inflows and outflows. He was the boy who counted the crates of soda at his uncle’s shop, noticed the discrepancies in the…

In a small trading center tucked away in the hills, seven-year-old Kato was famous for his hands. While other children played with standard toys, Kato could find a discarded piece of wire, a stray plastic bottle top, and an old slipper, and transform them into a perfectly balanced, steerable toy car. He had an intuitive…

In the trading center of Nyamambo, the heart of the community was an old, dusty crossroads where vendors sold roasted maize and plastic jerrycans. It was a bustling place, but it was also a place where everyone strictly minded their own business. If your crop failed, you bore the hunger alone. If your roof leaked,…

The mist over the Kigezi hills usually brought a chill, but for sixteen-year-old Brighton Twinomujuni, the real coldness came from anxiety. It was the beginning of the third term of Senior Three, and while his classmates were arguing about football, Brighton was staring at his worn-out canvas shoes. His mother, a hardworking peasant farmer, had…