"SOMA is not special only because of its mission; it is special because of the people who are part of it"

Writing this testimonial is a very special moment for me, a moment that, not long ago, I believed I would never have the courage to reach. Since I was four years old, according to my family, I used to say that I wanted to go to Africa to “help people.” I clearly remember being a child, daydreaming about this world, a world I would come to discover was waiting for me 15 years later, when I became a Psycho‑Empowerment Mentor at SOMA.

When I discovered SOMA, my eyes lit up. It was literally the embodiment of the dreams that had kept me awake for so many years. It was an NGO that was not assistentialist, but empowering, with real impact, well organised, and grounded in the values I stand for. When the applications opened, my eyes shone just like they had when I was younger. I realised it was time to honour the sparkle in little Cris’ eyes and take a leap of faith.

Some people said it was madness, that they thought I had already given up on that dream, that I wouldn’t be able to do it… but I had always known that this dream was a part of me. Still, to make my biggest dream come true, I would first have to face my greatest fear: flying. That was when I realised that before empowering other girls, I would first have to empower myself.

For that reason, SOMA was, even before the experience itself, synonymous with overcoming fear and building resilience. Without expecting it, it became the place where I discovered my true strength. And this could only happen within a women‑empowerment NGO, because I did not discover this strength alone, I found it alongside a team of women who held my hand and never let me give up. They made me believe I was capable of so much more than I had ever imagined.

SOMA is not special only because of its mission; it is special because of the people who are part of it. That is what gives meaning to this entire experience and what made me feel, from the very beginning, that I was heading in the right direction, working with the right people, with the same vision, the same purpose, and the same love.

The same happened with Príncipe Island. I know many people feel hesitant because it is not a very well‑known island, but it is precisely these places that need the most support, as they often have no NGOs. SOMA is the pioneer and the only organisation of its kind on Príncipe Island.

These girls need us. And, just as we often tell them in class, we only fear what we do not yet know. Had I ever imagined I would volunteer on Príncipe Island? No. I had never even heard of it. And now, now I am simply grateful to life for crossing my path with this place. From the moment I set foot on the island, I felt that this was exactly where I was meant to be.

Príncipe is not the end of the world, quite the opposite. It is a beginning. A simple, pure world, with little human interference, much like the rest of the world once was.

Living on Príncipe means waking up to joyful music playing loudly, walking to SOMA while hearing children singing at kindergarten, greeting everyone you pass on the street with a heartfelt “good morning.” It means wearing out the word “hello” with the countless children who welcome you, being received at SOMA by the girls with mangoes, fried bananas, or cake sent by their families. It means having the best octopus and the best fish you have ever eaten for lunch.

At the end of each day, it means saving time to play with and hug the children waiting at SOMA’s door, going to the market to buy new tropical fruits to try at dinner with the girls’ mothers, receiving candy as change in mini‑markets, yes, there are mini‑markets, with Portuguese products that give us a more comfortable and “normal” life. Living here is eagerly awaiting the arrival of the boat to see what new things it brings.

It is having a dress made by a local tailor, listening to birdsong at sunset before gathering for our daily group workout at home, and never missing the sacred pizza and movie nights. It is riding in the back of an open truck to the beach and wondering how you will ever live differently again, without open trucks and fried bananas.

It was here, in this place, that I saw the most beautiful beach in the world. And sometimes, while gazing at the island’s breathtaking landscapes or at a girl carrying a water container on her head, offering a shy yet warrior‑like smile, I think about how lucky I am to be living this experience, to be on a mission here, on this island.

‍