Although Cliff Tshibungu (BA’16) has experienced great pain in his life, he has refused to let his suffering harden him. Instead of simply surviving, he has made meaning from what he endured by serving others.

At an early age, Cliff, who grew up in Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), was exposed to poverty, inequality and instability — forces that shaped a commitment to justice, peacebuilding and the inherent worth of every human being. When he was 12 or 13, his family immigrated to Canada, settling in Toronto. Although Canada was more stable, Cliff struggled to find peace within himself.

He became estranged from his family, and midway through high school, he was kicked out of their home. For the next five or six years, he bounced between living on the streets and couch surfing. “I was living day by day. Literally, day by day. The goal each day was: don’t think about tomorrow. Just get through today.” By leaning into his faith and connecting with people who believed in him, he finished high school, even without a permanent place to live.

Through all this, he turned to journalling for solace. Rereading those journals as an adult helped him realize how profoundly his experiences had affected him. “I went back, and I touched [the pages of] some of my journals. I could feel how intense it was — the paper was bubbling.” Sometimes, he says, he cries when he reads those entries.

“Acknowledging both the hurt and the healing has been essential.” Although his life was “far from linear, far from perfect,” his trials and tribulations helped him grow resilient. For Cliff, resilience “isn’t about toughness, or bouncing back, per se, it’s about learning how to grow without becoming hardened.”

When he was younger, Cliff did feel some bitterness, but instead of letting it weigh him down, he used it as fuel for growth. Over time, he learned to shift the script. Instead of asking, “Why is this happening to me?” he began to ask, “Why not me?” That shift in perspective helped him recognize that his lived experience had made him the “perfect canvas” to help marginalized people. “Some people cannot relate to others’ stories because they never walked in that path. I have. I know what it feels like to be on the street saying, ‘Sir, can you please spare change?’”

In 2010, Cliff moved to New Brunswick after being recruited to play basketball, a sport that had provided him with structure, community and a sense of belonging during his challenging years. While this opportunity didn’t fully work out, the move marked a new chapter in his life. “New Brunswick became the place where my life began to stabilize and take clearer direction.” It was also where he met his future wife, Kristen, whom he describes as his anchor.

Rebranding his struggle          

That same year, after realizing that higher education could be a pathway toward stability, purpose, and service, he applied to UNB as a mature student. “UNB gave me that opportunity to rebrand my pain, to rebrand my struggle, to rebrand what education means to us all. For me, it was starting and finishing something in the midst of discomfort.” At the time, he was living with Kristen and his step-daughter — their son would be born in 2019 — and balancing family responsibilities with school meant working two cleaning jobs to make ends meet. Despite the pressure, he was adamant that he could not fail. “This is my chance to really show myself that I can start something and finish it.” 

After graduating, Cliff followed Kristen’s path into the military. He trained as a member of the military police, serving at CFB Gagetown from 2017 to 2024. His own encounters with police officers and soldiers as a youth shaped that decision. He wanted to bring humanity and understanding into roles that could feel intimidating to others. Growing up in DRC, he often saw UN peacekeepers on patrol, which sparked an early awareness of service and protection in communities facing instability. Later, his experiences of hardship in Canada strengthened his desire to support people who felt voiceless or powerless.

As a military police member, Cliff worked to bridge the gap between minority communities and law enforcement, an approach reflected in his everyday interactions. When interacting with youth and adults, he’d introduce himself by striking up a genuine conversation, sometimes even playing sports like basketball at outdoor courts to build rapport. 

Although still a member of the military, he stepped away from policing in 2024 to pursue a master of divinity at Acadia Divinity College, specializing in leadership, ethics, and spiritual formation. He received the Dean’s Achievement Award in recognition of his academic excellence and dedication. His goal is to become a military chaplain.

On the surface, policing and ministry may seem like very different callings. But Cliff sees them as deeply connected, noting that both paths “submerge into the same goal, which is community transformation, whether it’s leadership ethics, whether it is personal growth, whether it is empowerment.”

Interrupting the silence

Outside of his professional roles, Cliff has also worked to empower Black men by creating the Black Men’s Dinner. At this gathering, participants support one another as they transform experiences of oppression into growth. From the outset, he has encouraged vulnerability. “This is your space to say, hey, my name is so-and-so. I need help with this. If you don’t utilize this space, it’s going to burst out somewhere else.” Many Black men, he notes, are expected to “survive silently.” The Black Men’s Dinner “exists to interrupt that silence” in a way that feels safe, human, and, above all, dignified.

The setting varies, but the gatherings always include a shared meal, and participants are expected to dress up. This “helps restore dignity and reminds participants that their current struggle does not define their worth. You get dressed in your best clothes, you show up, you look good, you feel good, you smell good, you’re sitting down at a table, a meal’s there, wine’s there, and all you’re looking at are men in the same situation as you. No ego. No ulterior motives, nothing but honest conversation.” 

As an agent of change, Cliff is developing his motivational speaking skills so he can provide words that are “nourishing to the soul” to those who are struggling. He didn’t plan on becoming a speaker. Still, he noticed that people consistently sought him out to speak, “not because I had perfect answers, but because I spoke honestly about struggle, responsibility, and hope.” He realized his ability to articulate hard truths in a way that resonates and mobilizes others was worth developing intentionally.

Underlying all of his work, Cliff says, is a spiritual framework that has helped him make sense of both suffering and purpose. Throughout his trials, he says, there’s been a “divine imperative” guiding him through it. “I believe I was indeed meant to go through what I went through.”

Cliff, who has been inspired by Black leaders such as Nelson Mandela and the Congolese independence leader Patrice Lumumba, was asked what he would change if he could go back in time. His answer was nothing. “If I change one thing, then everything, the whole story changes. [If you remove] one piece, you remove everything; it’s not the same anymore. Everything needs to stay intact, the way it happened, in the sequence it happened. I am grateful to be alive and see the growth of my journey.”