“As I stand here today, I often think about that little girl dreaming of a brighter future. Looking back, I am reminded that something as simple as a light can change the direction of a life.”
Below, find Anita Lakareber’s story as she shared it at LTBLI’s 2026 Solar Celebration.
Distinguished guests, friends, family members, coworkers, mentors, and supporters, thank you for being here tonight. It means a great deal to have you here as part of this special occasion.
My name is Anita Lucky Lakareber. I am a Registered Nurse working in psychiatric, behavioral health, and substance use treatment here in Buffalo. I am also a pre-medical student and Co-Founder of Gulu Film Production and Gulu Film School, a nonprofit organization in Northern Uganda dedicated to empowering young people through storytelling, film education, creative arts, and workforce development opportunities.
It is truly an honor to be here with you tonight.
I had the privilege of meeting Sarah and her husband, Ben, through the Buffalo Sunrise Rotary Club. I was immediately inspired by their passion for bringing light, hope, and opportunity to communities around the world. Last year, I volunteered at this event and witnessed firsthand the generosity and dedication of those who support this mission.
I can personally attest that your support is changing lives in ways many of us may never fully see. Whether through facilities such as Kikonda Health Centre and St. Joseph’s Hospital Naggalama, your support is helping provide reliable electricity to rural healthcare facilities serving communities that would otherwise remain years away from access to power.
This mission is deeply personal to me.
I come from Gulu in Northern Uganda, a region that endured a devastating civil war for more than two decades. I was born during that conflict and survived it. My family, like so many others, was displaced into an internally displaced persons camp.
By the age of six, I had lost both of my parents. My father passed away when I was still a baby, and my mother died at the age of twenty-nine while expecting her third child. My sister and I were raised by relatives and members of our community who stepped in when we needed them most.
As I grew older and became a nurse, I often reflected on my mother’s story and on the many mothers around the world who still face barriers to safe healthcare and basic resources.
While Uganda has made significant progress in healthcare over the past two decades, maternal mortality remains a serious challenge. Approximately 189 women die for every 100,000 live births due to pregnancy- and childbirth-related complications.
Behind every statistic is a mother, a child, a family, and a community forever changed.
That is one reason I deeply value the work of Let There Be Light International. Their renewable energy projects are helping healthcare workers provide safer care for mothers and newborns in communities where electricity can mean the difference between life and death.
With light in the delivery room, clinics can support safer births. With refrigeration, vaccines and medications can be stored properly. With reliable energy, care can continue day and night.
The need for sustainable energy is becoming even more important as communities across Uganda and Africa face the growing effects of climate change. Droughts, flooding, unpredictable rainfall, and extreme weather events continue to affect agriculture, education, public health, and economic stability.
By investing in clean and renewable energy, organizations like Let There Be Light International are helping communities become more resilient, improve health outcomes, expand educational opportunities, and build a more sustainable future.
Like many children growing up in a conflict-affected environment, life was filled with uncertainty, loss, and hardship. Yet even in the midst of those challenges, I held on to one belief: the power of education and service.
The challenge, however, was access.
As a child, I often studied by a kerosene lamp, by candlelight, and sometimes by moonlight when the sky was bright enough. If we did not have money for kerosene, we went to bed shortly after sunset.
Learning was difficult, but education was my hope. I studied whenever and however I could, sometimes hiding under a blanket with my uncle’s flashlight so I could continue reading after dark.
Those experiences taught me that access to electricity is about far more than light. It is about opportunity. It is about education. It is about health. It is about safety. It is about dignity.
Through my work with Gulu Film School, I have also seen firsthand how unreliable electricity can limit learning and opportunity. Power outages often disrupted training, editing, and film production, making it more difficult for young people to develop valuable skills and pursue their dreams.
In April 2013, I came to the United States as a refugee and made Buffalo my home. I arrived with just $11.10, but with hope for a new beginning and the opportunity to pursue an education. Like many newcomers, I faced challenges adapting to a new country, culture, and way of life. Yet this community embraced me, supported me, and believed in me.
Because of that support, I was able to pursue my education, build a new life, and become a registered nurse.
Today, I am pursuing my dream of becoming a physician – a dream that once seemed impossible for a little girl studying by the light of a kerosene lamp in Uganda.
As I stand here today, I often think about that little girl dreaming of a brighter future. Looking back, I am reminded that something as simple as a light can change the direction of a life.
That is why this work matters.
Every solar panel installed, every clinic illuminated, every mother who can safely deliver her child, every vaccine preserved, and every child who can study after sunset represents more than technology.
It represents hope. It represents opportunity. It represents dignity. And it represents a brighter future.
Thank you for believing that where a child is born should not determine their access to healthcare, education, or opportunity.
Thank you for supporting communities across Africa through the power of sustainable energy.
Together, we are doing more than providing electricity. We are helping mothers deliver safely, enabling students to learn, strengthening healthcare, and creating opportunities for families and communities to thrive.
Tonight, I invite you to continue being part of that change. Every donation, every sponsorship, every act of advocacy, and every volunteer hour helps bring light, hope, and opportunity to those who need it most.
Thank you to Let There Be Light International, Sarah and Ben Baird, and all of you for your commitment to making a difference.
In my native language, Acholi, we say, “Apwoyo matek.”
In Swahili, we say, “Asante sana.”
Both mean: Thank you very much.
May we continue to be a light for others.
Shine on.
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