Three years ago I was in Uganda at the tail end of my two year stay when there was an outbreak of Ebola. Yes, you read that right. It was Ebola virus, the highly fatal disease carried by bats(?) and highly contagious. This was a milder form with fewer fatalities but it proved to be deadly nonetheless. Once Ebola was confirmed by MSF and Unicef, me and the rest of the non-clinical members of our team were evacuated out within a matter of days. Our two missionary doctors and physician assistant courageously stayed to care for the sick.

It was a frightening time, almost beyond description.

And little did we know that Ebola would take the life of Dr. Jonah Kule, a dear Ugandan friend and colleague. He had treated one of the patients with Ebola early on and had contracted the disease himself. He left behind a wife, Melen, who was pregnant and 5 daughters. Three months after his death, baby Jonah, their only son was born.

Dr Jonah breathed his last breath on this earth 3 years ago today, alone in an isolation unit in Kampala.

And he is now among the cloud of witnesses to the life of faith we life.

Hallelujah, Dr. Jonah, hallelujah!

Gone but never forgotten.