Premnath’s story

There are no buses after 5 PM in the jungle. That’s what Premnath and his wife learned as they stood on a dirt road in the hill country of Sri Lanka, the sun slipping below the trees. They had just finished ministry in a remote village. A place only reachable by foot and faith. The last bus had already gone. So they walked. Fifteen kilometers, five hours, through the dark. During the journey, his wife fell and injured her leg. Bleeding and exhausted, they stopped and prayed: "Lord, if we are to continue ministering here, we need a motorbike."

One month later, Premnath received a call. Mahesh, the Director of Ministry in South Asia at Open Eyes had arranged a meeting. And waiting for him there was an answer to that quiet, desperate prayer: a motorbike. The motorbike became the key to reaching people no one else could.

Today, Premnath pastors two church branches in those same hills. He leads a children’s ministry that has grown to 145 children. His wife, healed and by his side, continues the journey with him. And each time they ride into the jungle, they carry more than just the Gospel, they carry a testimony of God’s provision in the hardest, most hidden places.

This is what quiet courage looks like: a family walking for hours in the dark so others can walk in the light.

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A Life of Transformation

Dr. Shiva’s Journey from Bonded Labor to Bringing Hope

I was born in a remote village in Nepal, where roads, schools, and even basic healthcare were nonexistent. My parents, like generations before them, were bound by poverty and caste discrimination, surviving as bonded laborers. As the sixth of eleven children, I witnessed firsthand the fragility of life, losing five of my siblings to preventable diseases. Their deaths left a deep scar on my heart, planting in me a relentless desire: I would become a doctor so that no family in my village would have to suffer as mine did. 

But the path before me was nearly impossible. As a child of an oppressed social group, education was not meant for me. My parents and grandparents forbade it, fearing the consequences of breaking from our social group’s traditions. It was only through the kindness of a schoolteacher that I first stepped into a classroom. Even then, the weight of poverty threatened to crush my dream. Unable to afford school fees, I depended on scholarships and the generosity of strangers to continue my studies. 

At 11 years old, I left my home, my family, and everything familiar to pursue an education in the city. It was terrifying, living alone in a small, rented room, longing for the comfort of home. But God had a plan greater than I could see. My landlady, a Christian widow, invited me to church, and for the first time, I encountered a love and acceptance that transcended caste and status. There, I was given a New Testament, and as I read its words, I found truth, healing, and a calling far greater than medicine alone, I found Christ. 

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A Life of Courage

Fatima’s Mission to Defend the Persecuted in Her Country

I was born in a South Asian country, into a family that understood both the power of faith and the cost of following Christ. My father, a pastor, led our church in a community where persecution was a constant threat. Though I was active in church, faith felt more like tradition than transformation, until April 1995.

At an outdoor meeting, I listened as a preacher declared, “No other god has sacrificed His life for His followers. Only Jesus.” That night, alone in my room, I fell to my knees and prayed, “Lord, I want to know You, not as a granddaughter, but as Your daughter.” In the stillness, I heard a voice: “Daughter, I love you. I was waiting for you.” A deep peace settled over me, and I knew - God had spoken. My faith became my own.

But faith in my country comes at a cost. I learned this as a child when our home and church were attacked in 1994. Armed men stormed our house, dragged my father into the street, ransacked our belongings, and opened fire on neighbors who came to help. By God’s grace, no one was killed, but justice never came. The attackers walked free.

"That day, I realized something: Christians in my country have no voice. And if no one would fight for justice, then I would."

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