I was born in an Anglican family with both my mother’s and my father’s side being Anglican. I remember being presented to the church for water sprinkling at the age of six. My grandfather, Abednego, decided that I would be Meshach and my twin brother, Shadrach. What led up to you becoming a missionary? There are three major incidents in my story; let me begin with one. One evening I walked with friends the usual 8km to the bigger trading center for a drinking spree.

We had just settled in our ancestral village in the homestead surrounded by forest. Our house was grass thatched with mud and wattle walls. Electricity was a dream but all that didn’t matter when we got drunk. I came back home around 10:00 pm and opened the locally made door with hinges made from old car tires. My mattress was on the ground covered with a simple blanket as humble beginnings happen. I lit a match just to check where I was going to enter the mattress and make sure there was no snake. In no time, I was fast asleep. Early in the morning, I heard some people digging around my room so I woke up and it was around 8:30 am. To my surprise my hands which I used as my pillow were tied onto my head. With a rope crisscrossing around my neck and back to my hands and head. Opening my eyes wide I realized it was the skin of a long snake which it left on me while shedding its old self. I immediately closed my eyes and remembered to pray to God for forgiveness of all my sins. I was not sure it did not bite me. I was also in a dilemma because I was not sure where the snake was. I thought, “It may be near my head, in the blanket, or in one of the corners waiting to gain strength and move out.” Then, another idea told me to sit up and jump out of the room since I forgot to close the door the previous night when I entered. I immediately dashed out with my hands still tied to my neck and head. Those who were outside the room took off, seeing what was on me. I stretched my hands and broke the skin, which was almost two meters.

Realizing my body was intact, I began asking God to help me give up smoking and alcohol and become a missionary like Dr. David Livingstone and Meshach. Change did not happen instantly, though. The second incident After a few months, I walked the 8 km again with my friends for drinking. I came back home drunk and passed out. In the next room over from mine, we kept goats and there was a door from my room to the goats’ room. Early in the morning, around 6:00 am, I woke up. I quickly discovered a grizzly scene around me of what was left of some of our goats and thought a python had visited. But then going to the goat’s room to check on them, I discovered thieves had slaughtered three goats and were making fun of the drunkard goat’s owner. It was God’s grace because they could have slaughtered me too. I again resolved to become a missionary like Dr. Livingstone and Meshach. I left the village and came back to town. Again, my friends asked me to drive them to a drinking place. Lastly, I joined boxing and became good in the featherweight group.

I was nominated to represent Uganda in Zambia. But something swelled on my right hand in my wrist. The doctors warned that if I went for an operation, I might bleed to death because it was on the main vein. I remembered my name Livingstone Meshach and boxing was not a good game for missionaries. I prayed to God that if the swelling disappeared, I would go for some other jobs so as to serve God and reach His people. A few days before the final checkup and getting visas, the swelling had disappeared, so I left boxing and joined taxi driving. Then, I joined ministerial training and became a pastor. I read about a missionary work that encouraged young pastors to train in aviation and work with the project in Tanzania.

I joined the flying academy in 1993 but did not complete the course because my wife, at the time, was shot dead by a stray bullet from training government soldiers at the flying academy in Uganda. Since we had small children I could not continue with the Aviation studies. After serving the church at different levels, I studied for a master’s in disaster management. Now, I am a lecturer at Bugema University, a Seventh-day (Adventist) institution in the Uganda Union. I lectured near the flying academy where I was training, and whenever I meet my colleagues, the desire for missionary Aviation rises in me. I am now married again. My wife, Betty, has a bachelor’s of counseling and we both wished to serve as missionaries anywhere in the world using the experience and knowledge God had availed to us. Then, in 2020, when I contacted AWA, I was welcomed, and that’s how I joined AWA missionary service.