It's a sunny day in March - St. Patrick's Day, actually - which is kind of like a national holiday for me, being the daughter of Irish immigrants! So with Spring springing all around and the tulips coming out of the ground, I'm inspired and motivated to get things done!
My big accomplishment this week was putting the final business in order for our first big fundraiser for Project Wezesha. On Saturday, May 15th, 2010 we are happy to host the Empower 5k Trail Run. As you may remember, Wezesha is the Kiswahili word for Empower! Folks who partake in this fun run are helping to empower the young children of Mgaraganza village in Tanzania. How? Well - all proceeds from the Empower 5k Trail Run go to the Amahoro Secondary School project.
Amahoro Secondary School will be the first ever secondary school for the village of Mgaraganza and four other incorporated villages - all run by the same chief. While I made my way around the village last summer, meeting the chief, chatting with his son and getting to know a new community - I proposed helping them out by fundraising to build a classroom on their small primary school. Rather than give me a simple 'yes' they actually said 'No, thanks ... But, we could use a secondary school!' Props to them for asking for what they needed rather than simply taking what was offered ... and now I stand, in shoes similar to those of Greg Mortenson when he offered to help a village in Pakistan with a school building endeavor - unskilled, untrained, unsure, but full of hope for and commitment to these wonderful people.
This summer, along with a few friends from Spain and Salt Lake City, I'll return to Tanzania to begin our school building project. This first summer of the project will be a huge discovery and learning process on many fronts - we'll learn how business is done in TZ, we'll learn how to get fair costs on materials, we'll learn how to get permits from the government, we'll learn how to work with the Ministry of Education for Tanzania, we'll learn how to clear land and make bricks, we'll learn how to pour a foundation and most importantly - I (is it even possible?) will learn how to step back, let go and let the locals lead the way!
I'm such a take-charge gal (to a fault perhaps) in my regular life ... but I am coming into this project with the name WEZESHA (EMPOWER) singing softly in my ears. This summer is about getting the school started, but even more it is about capacity building, empowering a local community and training my co-founder and local Tanzanian, Lucas Lameck, on the business side of things - so that he can operate efficiently, effectively and confidently as in-country director throughout the year. In addition, I want to find a locally run NGO to partner with on this project. Ideally, we'll find an NGO that works in the education sector and will be able to collaborate with the village and Lucas to ensure that the project continues on a steady trajectory throughout the year.
This will be the most challenging and exciting of years to come! Hopefully after this stage of the process is over, Project Wezesha will have stories, ideas and empowerment models to share with others doing similar projects. Additionally, perhaps we'll identify future communities in the region to work with to increase educational opportunities for other children!
Thanks for all of your support! If anyone would like to contribute to Project Wezesha, please click here or visit the Donate link on our website.
Asante Sana!
Hope to see you at the Empower 5k Trail Run if you're in Salt Lake City this May!
Showing posts with label Education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Education. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Monday, July 20, 2009
Watoto Wazuri Wanasoma
The children continue to blow my mind here. They are so excited to learn and therefore so delighted by the smallest of gifts ... like pencils or pens. They take them shyly, with the right hand - left hand placed gently on their right elbow as a sign of respect and then turn and run screaming back to their homes to show brothers and sisters what they just got from Rehema. I can't help think ... but what will they write on? Most of them won't have paper or notebooks at home and yet, the gift of a pencil is so coveted.
I delivered my last round of books, notebooks and writing tools to the village the other day. We set up a library of sorts in the home of one of my favorite little ones - Saidi. His father was so delighted to meet me this year and he's 100% behind the children's education. He won't let them tire of learning and insists that it's the only way for them to go somewhere in life. When I suggested using his house as the learning center, he was more than happy to say yes. The kids in the neighborhood have already come up with a system of 'checking out' books to read or use for a day or two. We'll see how long the books survive and if they come back once they go, but I think in a village this small - the checks and balances will work easily as they all know each other and want to hold each other's respect and friendship.
After pouring over the books for a couple of hours, including reading Snow White to them - the first time they heard that one ... (no surprise there, but so different from our childhood in the US where knowledge of Snow White is inherent throughout) I took out my camera. At first they were shy and just let me take the pictures that I wanted - such as a few of them reading and looking over the books. Then, once they had seen their images on the screen they went nuts! I was suddenly a photographer for a big photo shoot starring - Hindu, Saidi, Musini, Zainabu, Zuhuru, Hamisi and a few others that popped in and out. They were seriously striking poses - leaning this way and that against the house or a banana tree, leaping through the air, posing with books and home-made soccer balls, painting their fingernails for the camera, posing with the pigeons ... anything you could find within and just outside their home, they were utilizing in the most frenzy-filled photo shoot! 'Rehema!! Mimi... hapa ..!! Rehema, Rehema, Rai, Rai, Rehema... me, me, me, now me, me alone, me with the book, me, me, me' ... It was insane! (unfortunately, this computer won't work with my camera, so those will follow soon!)
After the photo madness I took out the U of Utah football that I brought them to play with. I showed them how to throw a football - fingers on the laces and all that good stuff that I learned in my backyard some time ago. They had fun throwing it at close range in a circle, like hot potato... Then I showed them how far a football could go. I told Hamisi to 'go long' - ha ha - ... When he was quite a distance off, standing between two banana trees, I sent a long hard spiral his way and he caught it no problem and sent it right back! It was fun to watch them each take a turn throwing it back and forth.
Yesterday was my last day in the village. I went back to attend the wedding of one of my young friend's sisters - Hindu's sister, Amina. After the wedding, which deserves an entry in its own right - I gave the kids the biggest hugs I had in me and said with great confidence: I'll see you next year! Study hard and check the mail for your pictures!
Next stop - Dar es Salaam... then Mombasa for a big Somali wedding and then Nairobi and home! I'm homesick this year... I didn't have Tamrika and the gang to spend days with and debrief about cultural and educational issues ... Next year, some of you should seriously consider joining me! I have everything worked out ... lodging, car rental, school-building project ... the perfect African Safari (Safari meaning trip, not lion hunting!)... just planting the seed... :)
I delivered my last round of books, notebooks and writing tools to the village the other day. We set up a library of sorts in the home of one of my favorite little ones - Saidi. His father was so delighted to meet me this year and he's 100% behind the children's education. He won't let them tire of learning and insists that it's the only way for them to go somewhere in life. When I suggested using his house as the learning center, he was more than happy to say yes. The kids in the neighborhood have already come up with a system of 'checking out' books to read or use for a day or two. We'll see how long the books survive and if they come back once they go, but I think in a village this small - the checks and balances will work easily as they all know each other and want to hold each other's respect and friendship.
After pouring over the books for a couple of hours, including reading Snow White to them - the first time they heard that one ... (no surprise there, but so different from our childhood in the US where knowledge of Snow White is inherent throughout) I took out my camera. At first they were shy and just let me take the pictures that I wanted - such as a few of them reading and looking over the books. Then, once they had seen their images on the screen they went nuts! I was suddenly a photographer for a big photo shoot starring - Hindu, Saidi, Musini, Zainabu, Zuhuru, Hamisi and a few others that popped in and out. They were seriously striking poses - leaning this way and that against the house or a banana tree, leaping through the air, posing with books and home-made soccer balls, painting their fingernails for the camera, posing with the pigeons ... anything you could find within and just outside their home, they were utilizing in the most frenzy-filled photo shoot! 'Rehema!! Mimi... hapa ..!! Rehema, Rehema, Rai, Rai, Rehema... me, me, me, now me, me alone, me with the book, me, me, me' ... It was insane! (unfortunately, this computer won't work with my camera, so those will follow soon!)
After the photo madness I took out the U of Utah football that I brought them to play with. I showed them how to throw a football - fingers on the laces and all that good stuff that I learned in my backyard some time ago. They had fun throwing it at close range in a circle, like hot potato... Then I showed them how far a football could go. I told Hamisi to 'go long' - ha ha - ... When he was quite a distance off, standing between two banana trees, I sent a long hard spiral his way and he caught it no problem and sent it right back! It was fun to watch them each take a turn throwing it back and forth.
Yesterday was my last day in the village. I went back to attend the wedding of one of my young friend's sisters - Hindu's sister, Amina. After the wedding, which deserves an entry in its own right - I gave the kids the biggest hugs I had in me and said with great confidence: I'll see you next year! Study hard and check the mail for your pictures!
Next stop - Dar es Salaam... then Mombasa for a big Somali wedding and then Nairobi and home! I'm homesick this year... I didn't have Tamrika and the gang to spend days with and debrief about cultural and educational issues ... Next year, some of you should seriously consider joining me! I have everything worked out ... lodging, car rental, school-building project ... the perfect African Safari (Safari meaning trip, not lion hunting!)... just planting the seed... :)
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Secondary School Scholarship Recipients
My days were winding down fast toward the end of my time in Kiganza and it suddenly seemed like there was so much to do before leaving (which is rarely really the case, but it's amazing how much extra you can create for yourself when there's a deadline - I've always worked better that way as my parents and colleagues and friends and dogs and ... well, everyone knows!).
One of my big projects and the most important I'm sure, was wrapping up a little idea called the Kiganza Children's Education Fund. The idea came to me and Lucas once upon many of our hours together. It was always so disheartening to me to know how few children attended secondary school (relative to the number of children in the village) because their family simply could not afford it. For a child to attend Form 1 and 4, the cost is around $100USD per year because for the first and last years there are exam fees and other extra costs. For Form 2 and 3 the cost is only about $20USD per year, which is extremely manageable ... for me! For these people, it's still a steep expense in their life when their monthly income if they're lucky can reach $30, but often hovers much lower - especially for those who march great distances to sell fruit or vegetables in neighboring villages, often coming home with only a few hundred shillings profit (equivalent of a few dollars).
With Lucas, I talked about how easy it would be to donate the cost of a handful of Soy Vanilla Lattes (of course I didn't use that example for him, but in my head I was picturing myself paying $4 minimum (with ... or before tip) for a hot drink in the winter ... too often now that I think how far $4 can go in some places - Ahhh, remember the days with the blonde curly headed diva from All in the Family with Archie Bunker ... Sally Struthers, I believe ... "For just one cup of coffee a day, you too can change the life of a small child in Africa". Well now, thanks to the exorbitant prices of fancy coffees, you don't have to forgo one a day, just one a week!) I'm losing track of myself on this thought train...
So, I posed to Lucas that if we could find a handful of children who show promise and need assistance, I would be glad to help out (perhaps with a little plea for help from friends - they would expect nothing less from me). So, Lucas did a little digging in his file of families (he's a pro on knowing Kiganza village and the stories behind the families - although he often doesn't know their names, we only need homes and faces to get started).
The first girl was chosen by me. Her name is Hindu. She is a lovely 14 year old girl, attending secondary school already. School matters so much to her that she works in her family's farm on weekends to pay her own school fees. Why Hindu? She would show up out of nowhere to the Gazebo at GOSESO when I'd be having a song or dance circle with a group of local kids - and she would throw great questions at me - in English. I was delighted (my favorite adjective for this blog) with her English skills and finally asked if I could attend school with her one day. Back at GOSESO she seemed so tall because the usual suspects that I was spending my time with were between the ages of 2 and 10. But once I saw her in her uniform in her class, next to many boys and myself, she suddenly seemed so fragile and small. After school, she invited me into her home to meet her father. I was nervous.
She had already told me that her father was very sick. He had become very ill three years ago and can no longer sit, stand, talk or eat without assistance. I expected to see a grown man lying in a bed in a small room in the house. Instead, I stepped foot into the front door, and laying on a grass mat on the dirt floor in the front room was her father. He has wasted away, evidenced by his thighs - as small as my forearms. He was lying on the ground with a thin blanket over him, his eyes closed and I said "Jambo Baba. Nina rafiki Hindu" (Hello father, I'm Hindu's friend). I sat next to him on the ground and put my hand in his. Instantly, without opening his eyes, he starting squeezing and releasing my fingers, while rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb - no other part of his body showing any signs of life, not even his face. Hindu sat next to me, telling me how her father had been a fisherman before this happened - "this" that no one seems to be able to identify or explain. Behind us, five small neighborhood children came in and were squatting in absolute silence behind me in the light of the open front door. Also squatting, but leaning against the wall next to the back door was Hindu's mother - tired and overwhelmed by her responsibilities now, raising two young daughters and her husband. Her three older sons contribute as best they can, but each has moved on and married with his own children to support. Hindu tried to tell me that her father couldn't hear me, but I knew that wasn't true. I could feel him resisting my efforts to pull away and responding with squeezes when I addressed him. After a while, having visited with my frail new friend as long as I could stand without seriously losing it, I told Hindu I should go. That evening, I told Hindu and her family that she was the first of 5 that I would be sponsoring. I would pay her school fees until she finished and she had to promise me to study and remain committed to finishing secondary school. (Hindu below - the others to come) (**Update - her father passed away a couple of months after I left.)
The others stories aren't as intense as this one as they are about children that I don't know as well, but agreed with Lucas when he described their situations, that they certainly deserved help.
The second child we visited was Edina. Edina is a lovely girl of about 15 who just finished standard 7 and is ready to start secondary school. She passed her standard 7 exams, which is a challenge, but was resigned to pass on secondary school as her father, a very poor man, could not afford to send her. Her mother died a few years ago of a disease - another one touted to be witchcraft, thereby blurring the reality. When I met her, her energy and sweetness poured into me. I could visibly see her shoulders drop when Lucas and I told her that we want to help her go to secondary school. She said many thank you's and wished that we have God's blessings. She also agreed to keep up her studies and strive to finish so she can have more options later in life.
The third child was another girl, named Diana, who is a neighbor and friend of Edina. Her mother is so poor and has no husband. She walks such amazing distances daily to sell palm oil and bananas in Kigoma town, often coming home without a single sale as banana and palm oil are an oversaturated crop in the region. Diana was a little bit puzzled by the offer, not knowing why she had been chosen by this mzungu who didn't know her. She was shy and grateful and also wished many blessings for us.
Finally, we visited the family that we donated the mosquito nets to a while back. This family with of 6 children and a mother (deceased father) touched me when I visited them the first time. The elder daughter is so beautiful and has this grace about her. She has already passed on her chance to go to secondary school and seems resigned to never attend. However, she has two brothers, Ismail and France, who are simultaneously in standard 7 this year, planning to take their exams in October. Pending their successful completion of these exams and entrance into Form 1, I'll be helping both of them too. I told their beautiful sister, Beatrice, that if she changed her mind I would help her as well. She laughed, but I continued to prod and tease up until we parted with handshakes and smiles and at least I know I left her something to consider. Unfortunately, their mother was out in the farm when I told them so I was unable to share the news with her myself, but I know she'll be immensely relieved.
The only hitch on all these cases is that in the midst of their crazy lives - working before and after school to help their single parents - they have little opportunity to study and excel. I just hope they all stick with it. They know that the conditions of the 'scholarship' are that the money comes from me to Lucas and then directly to the headmaster of their schools. In cases like these, if you give the family money directly, the money will never reach the schools because there are too many other pressing needs. I see education as an essential ingredient to combatting the poverty that is crippling developing countries, so while money would be nice - it wouldn't have high returns. My new friend Barrett used a wise saying I'd heard before: Give a man a fish and he'll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish and he'll eat for a lifetime. So, I'm hoping this little investment will grow. Lucas and I are going to see how this works this year and add children if we have success in the fundraising department.
If anyone would like to contribute, most of you know how to reach me. If you randomly stumbled upon this blog and would like to help, visit the Project Wezesha website. Asante!
One of my big projects and the most important I'm sure, was wrapping up a little idea called the Kiganza Children's Education Fund. The idea came to me and Lucas once upon many of our hours together. It was always so disheartening to me to know how few children attended secondary school (relative to the number of children in the village) because their family simply could not afford it. For a child to attend Form 1 and 4, the cost is around $100USD per year because for the first and last years there are exam fees and other extra costs. For Form 2 and 3 the cost is only about $20USD per year, which is extremely manageable ... for me! For these people, it's still a steep expense in their life when their monthly income if they're lucky can reach $30, but often hovers much lower - especially for those who march great distances to sell fruit or vegetables in neighboring villages, often coming home with only a few hundred shillings profit (equivalent of a few dollars).
With Lucas, I talked about how easy it would be to donate the cost of a handful of Soy Vanilla Lattes (of course I didn't use that example for him, but in my head I was picturing myself paying $4 minimum (with ... or before tip) for a hot drink in the winter ... too often now that I think how far $4 can go in some places - Ahhh, remember the days with the blonde curly headed diva from All in the Family with Archie Bunker ... Sally Struthers, I believe ... "For just one cup of coffee a day, you too can change the life of a small child in Africa". Well now, thanks to the exorbitant prices of fancy coffees, you don't have to forgo one a day, just one a week!) I'm losing track of myself on this thought train...
So, I posed to Lucas that if we could find a handful of children who show promise and need assistance, I would be glad to help out (perhaps with a little plea for help from friends - they would expect nothing less from me). So, Lucas did a little digging in his file of families (he's a pro on knowing Kiganza village and the stories behind the families - although he often doesn't know their names, we only need homes and faces to get started).
The first girl was chosen by me. Her name is Hindu. She is a lovely 14 year old girl, attending secondary school already. School matters so much to her that she works in her family's farm on weekends to pay her own school fees. Why Hindu? She would show up out of nowhere to the Gazebo at GOSESO when I'd be having a song or dance circle with a group of local kids - and she would throw great questions at me - in English. I was delighted (my favorite adjective for this blog) with her English skills and finally asked if I could attend school with her one day. Back at GOSESO she seemed so tall because the usual suspects that I was spending my time with were between the ages of 2 and 10. But once I saw her in her uniform in her class, next to many boys and myself, she suddenly seemed so fragile and small. After school, she invited me into her home to meet her father. I was nervous.
She had already told me that her father was very sick. He had become very ill three years ago and can no longer sit, stand, talk or eat without assistance. I expected to see a grown man lying in a bed in a small room in the house. Instead, I stepped foot into the front door, and laying on a grass mat on the dirt floor in the front room was her father. He has wasted away, evidenced by his thighs - as small as my forearms. He was lying on the ground with a thin blanket over him, his eyes closed and I said "Jambo Baba. Nina rafiki Hindu" (Hello father, I'm Hindu's friend). I sat next to him on the ground and put my hand in his. Instantly, without opening his eyes, he starting squeezing and releasing my fingers, while rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb - no other part of his body showing any signs of life, not even his face. Hindu sat next to me, telling me how her father had been a fisherman before this happened - "this" that no one seems to be able to identify or explain. Behind us, five small neighborhood children came in and were squatting in absolute silence behind me in the light of the open front door. Also squatting, but leaning against the wall next to the back door was Hindu's mother - tired and overwhelmed by her responsibilities now, raising two young daughters and her husband. Her three older sons contribute as best they can, but each has moved on and married with his own children to support. Hindu tried to tell me that her father couldn't hear me, but I knew that wasn't true. I could feel him resisting my efforts to pull away and responding with squeezes when I addressed him. After a while, having visited with my frail new friend as long as I could stand without seriously losing it, I told Hindu I should go. That evening, I told Hindu and her family that she was the first of 5 that I would be sponsoring. I would pay her school fees until she finished and she had to promise me to study and remain committed to finishing secondary school. (Hindu below - the others to come) (**Update - her father passed away a couple of months after I left.)
The others stories aren't as intense as this one as they are about children that I don't know as well, but agreed with Lucas when he described their situations, that they certainly deserved help.
The second child we visited was Edina. Edina is a lovely girl of about 15 who just finished standard 7 and is ready to start secondary school. She passed her standard 7 exams, which is a challenge, but was resigned to pass on secondary school as her father, a very poor man, could not afford to send her. Her mother died a few years ago of a disease - another one touted to be witchcraft, thereby blurring the reality. When I met her, her energy and sweetness poured into me. I could visibly see her shoulders drop when Lucas and I told her that we want to help her go to secondary school. She said many thank you's and wished that we have God's blessings. She also agreed to keep up her studies and strive to finish so she can have more options later in life.
The third child was another girl, named Diana, who is a neighbor and friend of Edina. Her mother is so poor and has no husband. She walks such amazing distances daily to sell palm oil and bananas in Kigoma town, often coming home without a single sale as banana and palm oil are an oversaturated crop in the region. Diana was a little bit puzzled by the offer, not knowing why she had been chosen by this mzungu who didn't know her. She was shy and grateful and also wished many blessings for us.
Finally, we visited the family that we donated the mosquito nets to a while back. This family with of 6 children and a mother (deceased father) touched me when I visited them the first time. The elder daughter is so beautiful and has this grace about her. She has already passed on her chance to go to secondary school and seems resigned to never attend. However, she has two brothers, Ismail and France, who are simultaneously in standard 7 this year, planning to take their exams in October. Pending their successful completion of these exams and entrance into Form 1, I'll be helping both of them too. I told their beautiful sister, Beatrice, that if she changed her mind I would help her as well. She laughed, but I continued to prod and tease up until we parted with handshakes and smiles and at least I know I left her something to consider. Unfortunately, their mother was out in the farm when I told them so I was unable to share the news with her myself, but I know she'll be immensely relieved.
The only hitch on all these cases is that in the midst of their crazy lives - working before and after school to help their single parents - they have little opportunity to study and excel. I just hope they all stick with it. They know that the conditions of the 'scholarship' are that the money comes from me to Lucas and then directly to the headmaster of their schools. In cases like these, if you give the family money directly, the money will never reach the schools because there are too many other pressing needs. I see education as an essential ingredient to combatting the poverty that is crippling developing countries, so while money would be nice - it wouldn't have high returns. My new friend Barrett used a wise saying I'd heard before: Give a man a fish and he'll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish and he'll eat for a lifetime. So, I'm hoping this little investment will grow. Lucas and I are going to see how this works this year and add children if we have success in the fundraising department.
If anyone would like to contribute, most of you know how to reach me. If you randomly stumbled upon this blog and would like to help, visit the Project Wezesha website. Asante!
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