Healing After a Brush With Death
When Fr. Sergius Shiyntum of Cameroon’s Catholic Diocese of Kumbo was kidnapped by separatists in 2023, he believed death was imminent, as others in similar circumstances had not survived. After a week in captivity, he was dragged into a public square where executions were regularly carried out. Accused of aiding the military to arrest a separatist, he became one of many clergy targeted in Cameroon’s conflict-ridden North West and South West regions.
These regions descended into conflict in 2016 after protests by lawyers and teachers, sparked by claims of political and cultural marginalisation. The harsh security response radicalised segments of the population, giving rise to an armed separatist movement seeking an independent state known as Ambazonia. Since then, priests and religious figures have increasingly been targeted amid widespread violence, including kidnappings.
“They took me to a public place to kill me,” Fr. Sergius recalls.“They asked me to say my last words. I said them. I was ready to die.” Then, unexpectedly, his executioner’s phone rang. The execution was halted, and he walked away alive, the first reportedly spared in that square. Though physically unharmed, he calls the week in captivity “mental torture.”
Back home, the bishop invited Fr. Sergius to stay with him, entrusting the priest with light responsibilities to help him regain a sense of normalcy. Yet survival had not meant healing. Recognizing this, the bishop recommended a sabbatical, a chance to step away, rest, and process the weight of what he had endured.
Four months later, at the graduation of the participants of the 25th session of the St. John Paul II Sabbatical Program on December 5, Fr. Sergius, who loves listening to music, spoke of the ordeal with surprising lightness, a stark contrast to earlier recounts that were marked by strong emotion. “I have really processed it,” he said. “Now when I share it, I laugh. It’s very light.” He attributes this transformation to trauma counselling, one-on-one accompaniment, and the rare gift of space to be truly listened to. “For 24 years, I listened to others’ problems. Here, I could open up about my fears, and that helped me a lot.”
The Cameroonian cleric was among 38 priests and religious from across Africa and Asia who took part in the 25th session, ranging from early-ministry priests to religious with over two decades of service. Though their stories differed, a common thread ran through them: exhaustion quietly carried, often unnamed.
Carrying Invisible Burdens
Sr. Margaret Wanja Wamaru, a Comboni missionary sister for 25 years, spent the past 12 years in South Sudan, arriving just eight months before civil war erupted. Serving as a teacher, school founder, administrator, and later Provincial Superior, she lived alongside communities shaped by prolonged conflict, absorbing their trauma as her own.
“Though I did not experience the war directly, I lived with its effects every day,” she says. “Economically, you suffer. You see life becoming hard for people. Living with traumatized communities, you also become traumatized.” Over time, she explains, the accumulated weight of suffering began to show: “You notice yourself reacting in ways shaped by what you have absorbed.”
Recognising that she was “losing focus on some issues” and that her “inner strength was going down,” Sr. Margaret, who found solace in a “personal” and “close” encounter with God amid the chaos, requested a sabbatical and joined the St. John Paul II Sabbatical Program. After four months, the Kenyan nun who loves gardening, described the experience as transformative: “The Sabbatical program has helped me to rest and I feel renewed. I’ve been given new strength to go back to the mission.” She adds, “I feel I have regained inner strength, strength that I had begun to lose through the challenges I faced.”
While some participants confronted trauma directly or indirectly through conflict, others carried quieter burdens, long years of service, family expectations, and personal challenges that equally called for rest and reflection. Sr. Cecilia Kaio’s journey illustrates these quieter challenges. Raised in a Protestant family in eastern Kenya, she often accompanied her cousins to the Catholic Church. Inspired by the story of the Fatima apparitions, they would visit a well on her father’s farm, praying for the Blessed Virgin Mary to appear to them, just as she had to the seers of Fatima. Over time, little Cecilia felt a growing call to serve in the Church.
Becoming a nun in a Protestant household was not easy, with societal expectations around dowry pressing on her decision. Yet Cecilia’s childhood vow, to never be exchanged for livestock even if she married, was fulfilled symbolically through consecration to God. She “married Christ,” as a member of the Missionary Sisters of the Precious Blood, turning an innocent childhood promise into lifelong devotion.
In addition to her religious vows, Sr. Cessy, as she is fondly known, made the conversion of her family a personal mission. She became the first Catholic in her family, eventually bringing all her siblings except one into the faith. Her father, her first convert, died soon after embracing Catholicism, and her mother received the Sacrament of Confirmation on November 1 2025 and remains active in the Legion of Mary. “I always tell God, even if I die today, I’ve carried out my mission, as long as my mother is Catholic and my father died as a Catholic,” she says. She nonetheless remains committed to seeing her brother, a pastor, convert as well.
Over time, however, such faithful giving also required moments of stillness. Eighteen years of ministry across Kenya, Tanzania, Zanzibar, and South Africa, combined with health challenges, left her yearning for reflection and renewal. The sabbatical offered this rare space. “It has been a time of renewal, refreshment, and empowerment. I can say it’s a time of growth and an increase of knowledge,” she reflects. “If people want to be relieved, renewed, and at rest, this is the best place.”
Reflecting on Vocation
Beyond rest and renewal, the sabbatical also offered a rare space for participants to reflect deeply on their vocation and the experiences that shaped their calling. For some, this reflection took a profound, introspective turn. Fr. Santulino Ekada Agwate, a Kenyan Discalced Carmelite of 28 years, described the 25th sabbatical session as a rare chance to “go deep into myself.” Psycho-spiritual sessions offered insights he never accessed in seminary, “an eye-opener, a breakthrough in individual life.”
It was also a time to reflect on his vocation, one first stirred in childhood by the white missionaries in his home parish and the altar boys who assisted them. After missing a university engineering placement by a single point, he served as an untrained teacher for two years, yet remained unsettled, with memories of the altar boys and the missionaries quietly lingering. With the guidance of a priest, he eventually applied to the seminary.
The turning point in his vocation came with a humorous twist, inspired by cakes. While studying theology at Kenya’s St. Matthias Mulumba Senior Seminary, he often visited a nearby Discalced Carmelite monastery alongside his fellow seminarians. One day, a smiling nun caught his attention through a window. He narrated the encounter that shaped his vocation: “I said, ‘Wow. You cannot come out and greet me?’ She said, ‘No, but we can talk over the window.’ I asked, ‘Can I also become like one of you?’” She explained the male branch was in Nairobi, and yes, the cakes helped seal the deal! Nearly three decades later, Fr. Santulino continues his work at Discalced Carmelite Nuns Monastery in Tindinyo, Kenya, ministering to the same sisters whose smiles, and cakes, first inspired his Carmelite vocation.
Embracing the Storms of Life
For Fr. Christo Justo Juma, a priest of the Catholic Diocese of Wau, South Sudan, the sabbatical experience was a chance to make peace with and embrace the storms life has sent his way. Just two days after his ordination 17 years ago, a serious road accident left him with a severe head injury, causing chronic sleeplessness and extreme fatigue,culminating in a diagnosis that requires him to be on lifelong medication.
“When I arrived here, I was still struggling,” he recalls. “I felt exhausted, my body swollen from stress and lack of sleep. Every day was a battle. But the support I found here, from the administrators, staff, and fellow participants, was like a family embracing me in my weakness.”
Amid the physical toll of ill health, Fr. Christo found the sabbatical deeply restorative. “I came here hoping simply to rest, and I did. The sessions, reflections, and guidance helped me regain not just my strength, but my spirit. I felt genuinely seen and supported. It has been life-affirming.”
Beyond recovery, the South Sudanese priest draws inspiration from his faith. Immersed in the Holy Scriptures, he finds spiritual nourishment and creativity, which he channels into composing and recording songs that share his devotion and hope with others.
Renewal Across Ministry
Many priests arrived for the program carrying the weight of long years of service and leadership. Fr. Bekimpilo Tshuma of the Missionaries of Marianhill began at Our Lady of Fatima parish in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe, as a deacon. After ordination, he spent ten years serving in that parish, rising from assistant priest to parish priest and later dean overseeing nine parishes. Guiding the parish through the transition from missionary to local leadership tested him daily, while the demands of leadership and trauma from a violent robbery left him physically and emotionally exhausted.
Though initially feeling too young for sabbatical, he joined the St. John Paul II Sabbatical Program seeking rest and renewal. An avid cyclist, he says, “I found this sabbatical very empowering, refreshing, and also challenging.” The program helped him navigate difficult moments, explore his inner self, and reconnect with his vocation. “As ministers, we are always listening to others’ problems, but here, I was listened to. I discovered self-awareness, deepened my prayer life, and experienced God in a profound way,” says the Zimbabwean cleric.
For Fr. Maurice Okuta of Kenya’s Catholic Diocese of Nakuru, the sabbatical began with hesitation. “I remember my breakfast losing its taste, even the tea went cold. I wondered, why a sabbatical? And why me?” he recalls, describing his reaction upon receiving his Bishop’s message to proceed on sabbatical.. By the end of the session, his perspective had shifted entirely. “I feel renewed, refreshed, and good. The program offered space for self-reflection, self-development, and exploring my personal story,” says the priest of nine years, whose vocation was inspired by witnessing his father wait too long for the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick. “My hope is to be a witness, especially to my fellow priests and the people of my diocese,” he reflects.
Slowing Down and Rediscovering Self
While renewal was central, the sabbatical also challenged participants to slow down. Fr. Pius Mutati, a priest of Kenya’s Kitui Diocese for six years, admits disengaging from active ministry was initially difficult. Accustomed to constant pastoral involvement, he struggled to sit still. Yet it was in that stillness that he found healing. “I have more sense of purpose, and I have rekindled my pastoral enthusiasm,” he says.
For others, the experience was entirely new. Fr. Dan Chaunde of Isiolo Diocese, a priest for twelve years, had never known such a program existed. After experiencing it he said, “I have had a chance to know more about myself, and the program has helped me address some issues,” says the priest, who enjoys reading Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen because his writings “present the pure teachings of the church in a spiritual way, making them integrative and practical.”
For others, the four-month residential program was a well-deserved gift after decades of uninterrupted ministry, carrying fatigue, suppressed emotions, and spiritual decline. Fr. Edward Abdalla, a priest of Sudan’s Catholic Diocese of El-Obeid for 22 years, said the sabbatical helped him rest for the first time in years. “I feel there is a change in me,” he said. “Spiritually, I came up again.” Similarly, Fr. Boniface Kiragu, a priest of Kenya’s Catholic Archdiocese of Nyeri for 32 years, described the program as a rediscovery of self after years of “running up and down” for others. “You can forget yourself,” he said. “This was a time to meet myself again.”
Among the sisters, the sabbatical continued to offer a rare pause for reflection and reconnection. Sr. Victoria Ogbu, a member of the Our Lady of Apostles Sisters, Nigeria, for 24 years, described the experience as a journey back to one’s core. “We come from a place of work, work, work. Here, I rediscovered the joy of just being. It helps you connect to your essence—who am I?” she reflected.
Returning Whole
By December 5, when the 25th session concluded, the participants were united not by uniformity, but by clarity. They returned to their dioceses, congregations, classrooms, parishes, and the peripheris not simply rested, but re-anchored. More aware of their limits and attentive to their inner lives, they were convinced that effective ministry begins with wholeness. The sabbatical had shown them that sometimes the most radical act of service is learning to pause long enough to become whole again. As Fr. Pius Mutati reflected, “Slowing down is not a weakness. It is wisdom.”
Meanwhile, intake for the 26th Session, starting January 5, 2026, is ongoing. Apply Now!
