What an amazing experience!! I am humbled beyond belief and had to stifle the tears as I watched the day unfold. I was talking with my friend Lucas and his brother, Isiah, about my desire to increase the children I support, with the help of friends back home, from 6 to 12. I also tossed in the idea of perhaps helping one primary school with the building of a much needed classroom to accomodate the great number of students served by this school. This conversation evolved into a discussion about the greater need of this area to have a secondary school. I learned of a collection of about 5 villages that each have at least one primary school, but completely lack a secondary school, leaving the children the option of stopping after about grade 7 or so for life or trekking over an hour to go to the nearest secondary school. Build an entire school?? I think with a little help from my friends, the formation of a non-profit and serious fundraising, we can do this ... so ... let's build a school!
First, we had to find land for the school. Land in villages is run by the village leaders - the chief and his council. In this particular case, the chief is the leader of the 5 surrounding villages. I had the word passed to the chief about my desire to help by building a secondary school to serve his villages and requested that he consider the offer. The chief met with the elders and council members of the village and two days later, I had a meeting with the chief and key players in the decision process.
First, I went to the home of the chief and waited with Lucas and Isiah for him to arrive. In the meantime, we sat and talked with his daughter-in-law and each other. When he arrived, we were invited into the house where we sat in the cool dark space sharing very basic greetings on little wooden benches. The greeting system in Tanzania is lengthy. You basically ask how are you in several different ways over and over without actually sharing any real information for some time. Then people sit, smile, nod their heads and say things like 'nice' or 'good' to fill the silence. I sat there, remembering how Greg Mortenson in his book Three Cups of Tea had to endure a 24 feast and many many chais in Pakistan before the topic of building a school could even enter the conversation with village decision makers. I was prepared to sit back and wait and suppress my desire to get down to business and suggest we start talking right away. Finally, after some time and many pleasantries, the conversation began. The son of the chief recounted the meeting from the prior day while the chief nodded and Lucas listened. Lucas would occasionally make sounds that would be equivalent to the sound you would make as you listen to a long, sad, unfortunate story, which you would have to recount to another with a heavy heart... but these are the sounds as they would exist in an English/American conversation. So, being American, I figured - they don't want me to take on this project and they have 15 minutes worth of reasons.
When they finally finished, Lucas turned to me and said ... "So Rai,... " Now, can that ever be good? Well - there was one concern. The only concern was that there are some political types in Tanzania who might, once the school was built, suggest to the local people that they had in fact built the school in order to get votes... I was waiting for the bad part ... but it never came. Lucas went on to tell me "Also, Rai..." again - bad news? They had selected three possible plots on which to build the school and he went on to describe where they were, who they would best serve in terms of their location and how the builders could work according to each site (availability of water, roads for transporting bricks, etc). And - that was that! ... No bad news!! So, regarding these corrupt politicians, I said that I would compose a letter that would state that the school had been built and donated to the government by an organization based in the US (Kigoma Children's Education Fund!) and me. They could keep this in the main office to show anyone who had questions. They suggested constructing a plaque on the school to acknowledge me and the organization for the donation and the chief smiled widely, contented by suggestion and no longer worried about the misuse of the school for political purposes.
From his house, Lucas, the chief and I went to the meeting place of elders and council members in the village center. We met with the chairman who is in charge of all official village business. As we told him of our plan and I explained how I came to know about the need of this particular area for a secondary school, men streamed in. Before long, I was sitting in a small room on a wooden bench surrounded by elders from the village who nodded and furrowed their brows as they listened to me and then Lucas as he interpreted for me. Little ole me negotiating with leaders in a village in Africa ... amazing experience! Next, the men went on about their business - having a lengthy conversation without me. Lucas's interpretation for me was like that funny Kung-Fu movie interpretation where you know more was said than you were actually told, but whatever... the basics were irrelevant anyway as they were hashing out building sites and the structure of the actual school grounds. Of top priority for the design of the school are toilets for both students and staff as well as the critical inclusion of a field for soccer, netball and basketball. We drew up some possible lay outs for the school/classrooms and all came to agreement about the basics.
At this point, we had been meeting for about 3 hours. So, the time had come to see the land. The first site was complicated as it had a foundation for a house and several crops and palm trees on its grounds - which meant that these would have to be bought from a villager as compensation for taking the land for the school. I didn't love this idea and further thought the land wasn't big enough to allow for growth and not feel crammed between existing villagers' homes. The men didn't seem to think this was the best option either, but it was only the first. We walked for about 20 minutes up a hill and then reached the second site. There would be no need to see the third. From this site on a hilltop, you could see all surrounding villages; there was enough space for a secondary school and the growth of a high school down the road as well as their sporting fields. In addition, there was a water tank just below from which water could be pumped up. And there were no villagers, no crops and no palm trees! It was magical! It was full of native trees, which I stressed should not be chopped down unless absolutely necessary for building - as I treasured the local trees and felt strongly that there be an environmental education component in the school, starting with the conservation of these trees and appreciation for them by the students. They agreed, of course and also wanted to keep them standing to the extent possible.
These amazing men granted me this land. They gave it to me for free in exchange for a school. So with all the humility in the world, I thanked them for trusting me and assured that I would be back to build. I'm planning to come back next year and in the meantime, try my hardest to raise the necessary funds. We agreed to build one building at a time - i.e. one per year. The first will accommodate Form 1 students. As they are ready to move into Form 2, we'll build Form 2 and so on. Each building, connected in a square formation with an common/assembly area in the middle will have four classrooms and one office for the teachers of that class level. The school will one day host up to 1800 students with still an astonishing 50 students per class, but far less than the more common 100 students per class.
I suggested a Kihaa name for the school instead of a Kiswahili name - as all the people in this region are of the Haa tribe: Amahoro Secondary School. Amahoro is Kihaa for Peace. They seemed to like the idea and time will tell, but it's their school to run with the government and name as they see fit. The government will be responsible for hiring teachers and headmasters. The government badly needs more schools, but "doesn't have the money to build them", which I doubt in reality - but I digress. If given a school, they can send teachers and take care of business from there ... so we'll see what happens! For now, I have a builder who came along for the journey to meet the elders, see the land and estimate a price of building the school in these four phases ... This fabulous, trustworthy builder has shown me some of his work in Kigoma. He has talent and integrity ... he is Lucas's brother, Isiah and together, the three of us laughed and joked on the way home that we make a great team.
Showing posts with label School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label School. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
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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