In Bukavu I saw these stray dogs, dead or almost dead, who had been thrown into the ravines every day. And I saw young people knocking them down by throwing stones at them. One evening I saw a man kicking a puppy in the street, for no reason, the puppy cried out. I tried to stop it, but the person attacked me with a bladed weapon. I managed to go home with the puppy. My life kind of changed that day.

I realized that if I were to die somehow, my biggest regret would be not doing more to help animals. It's like I have no choice, it's a mandate for my soul. I've always loved dogs: I started adopting a few strays at home and since my parents couldn't stand an overpopulation of dogs at home anymore, I had to look for a place to shelter them.

But what is more important: until now it is to imagine what my life will be.

I don't know what it will look like, but for the moment I am responsible for a large refuge built by friends who have understood my struggle.

I do animal care, wash dogs, walk dogs, help rescue stray animals. I take care of the puppies to replace the mother they lost and give them love.

I tell anyone who hears about sterilization, that it is very important because there are thousands of homeless dogs in Bukavu and the population is constantly increasing. I do my best to achieve my goal. When I'm with the animals at the shelter, I feel like I can't go home anymore, there's so much work to do.

I want to help people connect with animals and understand the value of the animal as a living being and how they experience pain and joy like us and when I talk about the shelter and the dogs and cats we have, some people ask us if we have a Maltese, German Shepherd or some other breed, and I have to tell them that a great dog doesn't have to come from a fancy breeder or lineage. Amazing dogs are all around us, and at the end of the day, they all want love.

That's all I try to do: give a little more love to as many dogs and cats as possible and try to get others to do the same.