Australian Sojourn
On 17th March 2025, an hour and a half past midnight, I left Jomo Kenyatta International Airport bound for Australia. Months of planning, preparation, and prayers had led to this moment. Truthfully, I had zero expectations—tabula rasa, if you will—as this was my first intercontinental journey. Armed with one suitcase and the curiosity of a three-year-old, I was ready to explore a new world.
Twenty-seven hours later, I landed in Brisbane to the warm embrace of Bren (CEO of Edmund Rice Foundation Australia). My Australian initiation was swift: a flat white, double shot, no sugar. I survived the week, though jetlag did its best to sabotage the experience. In Queensland, I visited St. James College, St. Joseph’s Gregory Terrace, and briefly stopped by St. Joseph’s Nudgee. At Gregory Terrace, I learned about Br. Ambrose Treacy, a pivotal figure in the history of the Christian Brothers. The Irishman established 31 schools in 30 years, starting with just a horse donated by the church upon his arrival in 1868. Today, these institutions are leaders in Australian education, steeped in rich history. I shared the story of Mukuru and the Ruben Centre’s interventions with students and staff, who listened with deep appreciation.
After a week in the vast, "empty" northeast, I began my journey to my final destination: Victoria. Along the way, I stopped in Coffs Harbour, meeting a group carrying on the charism of Blessed Edmund Rice through various ministries. We weren’t there by chance—we were there to learn about the Gumbaynggir people, the traditional custodians of the land. I felt a pang of ignorance for not knowing about Australia’s First Nations people earlier. Over four days, I immersed myself in the world’s oldest continuous culture—65,000 years strong, with 250 distinct languages! Bidding yarri (goodbye) to Gumbaynggir Country, I traveled onward, now more aware of the diverse lands ahead.
A brief stop in Sydney included staying with the Christian Brothers in Balmain and visiting St. Edmund’s College. The school’s inclusive community reminded me of Ruben Centre’s special needs unit, where children thrive. And yes, I even learned to swim—perhaps Kenya’s next Olympic hopeful? The Harbour Bridge and Opera House? Pure testaments to human ingenuity.
By 1st April, I landed in Melbourne, jetlag finally defeated—just in time for a whirlwind seven weeks. My visit kicked off with a speech at the Rotary Club of Essendon, the reason for my Australian adventure. Later, a friend in Warrnambool showed me where to pet kangaroos (bucket list: checked).
Week four marked the start of my vocational scholarship. At Kangan Institute, the marketing team revealed a shocking truth: my role as Communications Officer at Ruben Centre covers the workload of six people. That week, I also visited Donations in Kind, a Rotary initiative redistributing surplus goods to those in need, and Youth Projects, an organization supporting vulnerable young people. Both were eye-opening—Australia’s culture of resource-sharing left a lasting impression. A weekend trip to Ballarat introduced me to Australia’s rich biodiversity at their wildlife park, while back in Melbourne, I indulged in a famously overpriced ($15!) pint at P.J. O’Brien’s.
Week five began with a minor detour—getting lost on the train to a Rotaract meeting in Box Hill. The meeting was inspiring, though, offering fresh ideas for my own club. Denis Wiley, a steadfast Ruben Centre supporter, grilled me on sustainability. My answer? Our team is committed to two things: community well-being and organizational excellence. Later, the Men’s Shed welcomed me with open arms—a space where craftsmanship and camaraderie thrive. Easter weekend brought modern art and lunch with the Christian Brothers in Parkville.
By week six, time was slipping away. I moved from St Kilda to Ivanhoe, visited Parade College (the first Christian Brothers’ school in Australia), and joined the "Brekkie Van" to serve breakfast to those in need. The school’s sprawling grounds left me wistful for Ruben Primary’s students. Speaking to Year 7 and 12 students about my work in Kenya, I saw their empathy transcend distance. That week, I also volunteered at Exodus Community, Open House, and Hope Springs—each reinforcing my drive to support Mukuru’s youth. A quiet weekend on Phillip Island recharged me for the final stretch.
Week seven introduced me to Dr. Francis Acquah AM, a Ghanaian mental health pioneer. His insights on youth mental health strategies were gold. By now, I was practically Australian—navigating trains, topping up my Myki, and even following footy (though don’t ask which team). But the pace caught up with me: a migraine struck at 3 AM. No matter—I rested, rallied, and explored Melbourne’s outskirts, including volunteering at Western Emergency Relief Network, another Rotary-led effort. And yes, I witnessed Australia’s elections. Let’s just say "free and fair" takes on new meaning after seeing theirs.
Week eight brought a familiar face—Br. Frank O’Shea, my boss from Mukuru. We reunited at a book launch on the Christian Brothers’ educational legacy. (Note: His comments about my 6-kilo weight gain were… noted.) Later, at St. Joseph’s College in Geelong, I spoke about Edmund Rice’s legacy in Africa to 1,800 students—earning a standing ovation. The school’s Liverpool FC fandom? Chef’s kiss. Generously hosted by the college at the Novotel, I couldn’t help but dream of a future where Ruben Centre has resources in excess—not just to accommodate guests with such warmth, but to make every student’s daily experience as comfortable and enriching as those I witnessed here. The Great Ocean Road’s Twelve Apostles? Divine artistry.
Week nine tested me—severe migraines and shakes—but Australia’s healthcare system came through. Rest and prep led to the trip’s pinnacle: the 500 Supporters Luncheon at the MCG. Sharing my Ruben Centre journey over champagne and laughter was the perfect crescendo.
On 19th May, I returned home with three suitcases and a heart full of gratitude. Twelve days later, I’m a changed man—sharper in thought, speech, and presence.
To the ERFA, every school, Rotary club, individual, and Br. Frank O’Shea—thank you. This journey wouldn’t have been possible without you. And to those I’ve missed, my debt of gratitude remains.
By: Gregory Barake
