From the Street to a Safe Space: Denise’s Story of Survival and Hope
Sitting in her small home, Denise began by telling a simple story. Pregnant and without funds, left alone by her family, she begged on the street. She did it once and then stopped. Not because it solved anything, but because she refused to let that moment become her identity.
"When I was pregnant, I actually begged on the street one time, but then I didn't think it was an experience or an excuse for me to to be begging."
That one sentence contains two things at once: the immediate pain of hunger and the quiet refusal to be defined by it. She left the street. She found a friend who took her in. But then, at the hospital to give birth, she was left alone again. The people who offered shelter abandoned her possessions and her presence at the single most vulnerable hour. She gave birth alone. She had no one to take her home.
These are not rare events in Uganda. They form a pattern. A young woman becomes pregnant. She loses her social support. Her education stops. Her economic options narrow. Her health risks increase. The law may protect her on paper, but the paper does not hand her food, childcare, or a steady income.
The broader reality behind one story
Denise’s story is individual. It is also a clear example of a system failing a large group of young women. Uganda has a strong legal framework for gender equality. It has laws, policies, and even affirmative action that put women into public office. But the daily life of many women looks very different. Customary practices, limited enforcement, and deep economic barriers keep most women from accessing the benefits the law promises.
Young mothers sit at the center of this failure. They face three linked problems:
Education stops. Pregnancy and early motherhood truncate schooling. Schools and communities stigmatize young mothers. Policies to let girls return exist, but practical support is scarce.
Care work consumes time. Childcare is rare and costly. Time spent caring prevents training, work, and participation in markets.
Economic exclusion persists. Women own little land. They lack collateral for loans. Jobs pay less, and social norms block some kinds of work.
The macro numbers underline this. The adolescent birth rate is high. Maternal mortality remains elevated. Female land registration sits at a low share. An economic analysis shows gender inequality costs Uganda billions of dollars. Denise felt those costs in the shape of empty meals and nights with nowhere to sleep.
Concrete harms, concrete forces
Use the word "system" and it feels abstract. Denise’s language makes it concrete. She described a week with nothing to eat and the way she told her child it would be okay—maybe they would find something, maybe they could drink water. She did not treat hardship as narrative. She treated it as an immediate fact to be navigated. That honesty reveals where interventions must act: on the immediate, on the daily, on the unpaid care that steals time.
What a safe space does — and why it matters
Denise found a different kind of help through a friend who connected her to an organization - Holistic Action for Development (HADE), one of Dreamtown’s partners in Uganda. That connection changed the tone of her life. The organization offered something small in appearance but powerful in effect: a safe space where she could belong, learn, and be visible.
"They've allowed me to do anything that I like as long as it's it adds value to me, as long as it grows me. They've given me room to grow, room to learn new things. I felt, I belonged."
Those sentences show the mechanics of her transformation.
Belonging first. She had a family to be with. She had people around. She had someone to talk to when she did not feel fine.
Learning next. The space offered room to learn new skills and try new roles.
Leadership finally. The organization gave her a voice. Being chosen made her feel that she mattered.
Everything the space offered built a pathway from survival to self-direction. The safe space did not only give services. It rebuilt social capital. It broke isolation. For many young mothers, those are the missing parts that keep interventions from working.
What should safe spaces include?
Looking at Denise’s experience and models that work, an effective safe space combines four functions:
Psychosocial support — counseling, peer groups, and the chance to be heard.
Practical services — childcare, basic healthcare referrals, and secure places for children to play.
Life and vocational skills — training that leads to market-relevant livelihoods and financial literacy.
Channels to leadership — roles where young mothers can lead, make decisions, and represent peers.
When those pieces connect, the woman who once begged is able to plan. She can hold a child and hold a job. She can vote with a voice that others hear. That is what happened for Denise at HADE.
How this transforms one life and what it demands from policy
For Denise the most immediate goal became clear: she simply did not want her daughter to repeat her own path. The organization did not create a miracle overnight. But it created a scaffold. That scaffold let Denise make steady moves toward stability.
"The most important thing to me right now is seeing my daughter not go through the same things that I went through."
Her aim is practical. She arranges that food, clothes, and school arrive on time. She does not promise perfection. She promises persistence. That persistence grows from the safe space’s practical and social support.
Policy and program changes that would scale what helped Denise
Denise’s story points to specific gaps young mothers face. Addressing those gaps would let thousands of similar lives change. The key reforms are straightforward:
Mandate childcare in empowerment programs. Any training or microenterprise funding should include childcare or a childcare subsidy. Without it, time poverty makes training meaningless.
Fund grassroots safe spaces. Flexible, multi-year funding to local groups like HADE supports ongoing services that build trust and social capital.
Close the data gaps. More disaggregated data on girls, young mothers, unpaid care, and informal sector wages will allow targeted interventions and accountability.
Enable school re-entry with support. Policies that allow mothers back into school must also provide counseling, flexible schedules, and on-site nurseries or partnerships with local early childhood programs.
When those actions happen, more young mothers like Denise will move from crisis to stability.
How safe spaces shift identity: from invisible to chosen
But what maybe matters most in Denise’s account is not a single program detail. It is the psychological effect of being recognized and chosen. She had believed people like her did not matter. Then she was invited to join. She was given a role. She was given voice. Her self-perception shifted.
"I didn't really think that we would also have an opportunity to lead in such a place. I didn't actually think we had a voice. But when I was there and I was given the voice, I was accepted to be."
Being chosen is not a trivial reward. It is a social signal with consequences. When community members, donors, and programs treat young mothers as leaders in their own support systems, those women act like leaders. They organize markets, they train peers, and they design public spaces. The Her City project, for example, transforms urban design by making girls co-planners. That shift—from beneficiary to planner—changes how public space works for women and girls.
From belonging to enterprise
Denise describes a swing for her child, play, and a market corner where women can sell crafts. Those small items matter. A container shop for crafts becomes income. A market fair becomes both commerce and visibility. Each new role connects social capital to economic return. That is the central promise of integrated programs: the social side supports the economic side, and the economic side reinforces social standing.
Case in point: What works in practice
Integrated models already show results. BRAC’s Empowerment and Livelihood for Adolescents (ELA) combines life skills, education support, and livelihood training. It reduced teen pregnancy and increased income participation among participants. The Her City model invites girls to redesign public spaces, producing safer neighborhoods and new economic opportunities like market corners and fairs.
The common features of success are simple and replicable:
Start with trust. Build sustained relationships, not one-off training sessions.
Provide childcare. Make participation feasible for mothers.
Link skills to markets. Teach trades that local markets need and help women access buyers.
Include leadership roles. Let young mothers design and lead programs that affect them.
Adapt tools to context. Translate digital planning tools into analog forms for communities with low literacy.
Denise benefited because these elements came together. She had room to grow. She learned. She led. She kept her child safe. That sequence is the blueprint for scaling impact.
A clear choice, a clear return
Denise’s story is a small, honest truth that illuminates a larger one. When a society invests in the everyday needs of young mothers—food, childcare, legal rights, and spaces to learn and lead—it unlocks human capability. This is not charity. It is investment. The economic case is clear. The moral case is clear. The operational steps are clear.
Denise does not ask for perfection. She asks for the chance to be steady and the chance for her daughter to have a different start. She speaks plainly: she was strong. She is proud. She had to come out. The safe space helped her come out. Without it, she says, she might still be struggling.
"But if I hadn't come to that place, I think I would still be struggling till today and wouldn't have this moment today."
That single sentence captures the decision every funder and policymaker faces: continue with partial fixes that leave many young mothers invisible, or invest in integrated, local solutions that convert vulnerability into choice.
Denise’s life shows the answer. It starts with belonging. It continues with skills and childcare. It ends with voice. That arc is simple to see. It is practical to fund. It is urgent to act on.