The Day I Carried Water with a Village Girl

A Moment That Changed How I See the World – Shared by M Travel and Tours Burundi

I didn’t plan to carry water.
I came to Burundi for the landscapes, the drums, the lake. I came for the stories — but I didn’t know one would find me on a red dirt path, under the morning sun, beside a girl named Neema.

🌿 It started as a village visit…

We were visiting a small hill community in Muramvya with M Travel and Tours Burundi — the kind of place where children wave before they speak and cows graze freely between banana trees.

Our guide was introducing us to families, to the rhythm of daily life. Then I saw her — maybe 9 or 10 years old, balancing a bright yellow jerrycan on her hip, walking alone, barefoot, smiling like she wasn’t carrying anything at all.

She stopped, looked at me, tilted her head with curiosity… and said something in Kirundi. Our guide translated:
“She wants to know if you want to help.”

I laughed — not because it was funny, but because I wasn’t sure I could.

And then I said yes.

💧 The path to the spring

We walked together for about fifteen minutes. The can was heavier than I thought.
She switched hands easily, like she’d done it a thousand times — because she had. I struggled, sweat gathering at my neck. She giggled and offered to help me carry it.

When we reached the spring — just a trickle of clear water running through stones — I watched as she washed out her container, filled it slowly, and placed it on her head with no hands.

She said: “We do this every day. In the morning before school. And in the evening for cooking.”

🚶‍♀️ The walk back — and what I felt

Carrying that water back wasn’t just hard.
It was humbling.
I thought about how I waste water brushing my teeth.
I thought about how she walks this route twice a day while I complain about slow Wi-Fi.

🌍 What I Learned

That day I didn’t visit a village.
I entered someone’s world — for a moment.
I carried water, but she carried perspective.
She gave me more than I ever gave her.