Thriving Through Trials

Yesterday, we returned from a road trip through France.

When my nephew Deo and his wife Sonnia invited us to Paris for a ceremony introducing their newborn, my wife Flo and I knew we wanted to be there.

After weighing our options, the most affordable solution was to drive the 800+ kilometers from Milan as a family. We presented the idea to our boys Teo, and the twins, Sam and Jo and they were on board.

The plan meant skipping school on Friday, May 30. Saturday would be for the ceremony, where Kirundi and French—languages the boys don’t speak would dominate. But Sunday? That was our shared reward: a free day to explore Paris however we liked.

We left Milan at 3:40 a.m, stopped in Lyon for a picnic brunch, and arrived by late afternoon. Saturday went smoothly. Despite the language barrier, the boys connected easily with the other kids. That night, we watched Inter Milan, our team get crushed 5–0 by PSG. Not ideal.

Then came Sunday and with it, a test of our family’s tiny constitution. I suggested we visit Deo’s in-laws before heading out to explore. Sam looked me in the eye and said, “But we agreed on a free Sunday in Paris.” Flo nodded in support. I paused. In my childhood, challenging a parent even respectfully would have been unthinkable. But here I was, being reminded of my own promise by an 11-year-old. And he was right.

To lead well, even in a family of five, sometimes you need to step back and let the will of the group guide the way. So, I did.

Then came the lunch debate. Teo made his case for KFC, passionately. His brothers pushed back—why drive all the way to Paris for something we could get in Milan? I was tempted to remind them they have eaten Cheerios twice already on this trip, but since I had already lost the morning’s vote, I wisely held my tongue.

Flo stepped in and used google to find a Korean Fried Chicken restaurant. That’s when Teo grinned and said, “See? I told you KFC was the best option!” He knew exactly what he was doing. It wasn’t a misunderstanding; it was clever wordplay. One way or another, he got his KFC. We all laughed, and lunch was settled.

The food was great. But more than that, the process full of negotiation, compromise, humour, and listening was what stayed with me.

As I reflected on it all, I realized: this is what democracy in a family looks like. Debating, remembering promises, making space for every voice, and finding joy in shared decisions. I thought of political leaders who sometimes forget campaign promises once the votes are won. And I thought of followers who, fearing disrespect, stay silent when they should speak up.

To lead well, we must listen. And to follow responsibly, we must remind gently, clearly, and respectfully.

In the end, democracy is not just for governments. It lives in cars on road trips, around lunch tables, and in the quiet courage of a child who says, “That’s not what we agreed.”