By: Patrick Messac
In chemistry class, Chadwick Ouko is the paragon of a good student. He is disciplined and obedient, he often leads the class as they recite-in unison-their answers to classroom questions, he never asks the teacher difficult questions, and he keeps the class on task by always working by himself. On the football pitch he always passes when his teammates are open and on Friday nights he helps lead the choir during their vespers celebration. All of my interactions with Chadwick, a form 2 (10th grade), have been very professional and formal. Whenever I tried to get to know more about Chadwick’s life, he would stress his dedication to his education, his God, and his family. When I asked him about his family life, he told me it was “Very fine, thanks.” This was a pretty standard interaction, not only between Chadwick and me, but also between many of the Duke students and the Kenyan students. This barrier in both communication and openness made it very difficult for us to understand the challenges facing the students of Muhuru. It would be very important for us to have an understanding of these challenges as we prepare to address the issues that we are destined to face with the future WISER girl students.
We decided that we had to open up a dialogue with the students through various methods. We had to encourage students to open up and express themselves. Sunny and I came up with hosting a poetry workshop for all of the students. I called all of the students to a classroom and on the board wrote:
Poetry
1) Write from the heart.
2) Use grammar the way you see fit.
3) Write from the heart.
Sunny added that, just as a picture represents far more than what can be seen on the canvas, a poem, despite its scarcity of words can says much more than what is on the page.
So, after posing some questions, the students found a place where they could write. After about 10 minutes, students began to run up to Sunny and me to have us read their poems. With nervous anticipation, likely caused by the fear of us tearing apart their paper with red ink, they waited as we read their poems. Sunny and I looked at each other after reading the first poem and began to show great excitement about the students’ writing ability, depth of thought, and emotion. The students were shocked by our cheers and high fives, and encouraged by our enthusiasm. Many ran back to their spots to expand their poems or even write new ones.
Towards the end of the workshop, Chadwick approached me somberly with his poem. It read:
My Dying Mother
Written by: Chadwick Ouko
My dying mother laid on the bed
I worn by my weeping sat by her
By that moment fear approached me
Death coming like arrow shot
Winging its way to the eyes of
His target
Mother! Mother! Tell Me! Tell Me?
Who fathered me,
Who are our relatives,
Where do we come from,
Too weak to utter a word
She choose to remain silent.
I wanted to know
the naked truth
She always said that I’m too young yet
Now I’m approaching eighteen years old
And she is dying. I wanted to know
the naked truth
She open her mouth and said
Your father was --------,
Go as mother and she keep
Quiet and she was dead.
I wanted to know
the naked truth.
Each night before the students go to sleep the students have an opportunity to talk about their favorite part of the day. That night, after the poetry workshop, Chadwick explained, “Today, I found a new skill in writing poetry. It feels good to have my say.”
Saturday, August 11, 2007
WISER Life
By: April Edwards
Hello again!
So as many of you know, WISER will open in January of 2009. We are beginning the exciting process of recruiting girls who will be in the first class of Form 1 and Form 2 (9th and 10th grade ) which means that we are talking to girls in Standard 7 and Standard 8 (7th and 8th grade). We planned a special event called WISER Girls’ Day where we decided to invite the top 50% of the Standard 7 girls in the Muhuru District to come meet each other and interact with each other and to learn all about WISER and what it will be.
On July 30th and 31st, Andy, Kelly and I went out to tell those Standard 7 and 8 girls all about WISER and Girls’ Day.
We woke up early, when the sun’s rays are new, long, and orange and the roosters, cows and donkeys in our front yard are making the most noise (around 6:30). The three of us grabbed a quick breakfast of boiled eggs and hot tea and dragged ourselves outside to meet our guides who were to show us the way to each of the 9 primary schools in the Muhuru Bay district.
We were surprised as we came outside as we found not a bicycle for each of us, as we had expected, but ONE bike and two gentlemen with boda-bodas. A boda-boda is basically the bicycle version of a taxi. The “driver” sits on the front part of the bike and pedals, and there is a cushion that sits above the back wheel for the passenger. Generally when I am in Kenya, each time I see a Boda-boda, there is a man pedalling a woman on the back who is riding the cushion side-saddled. I immediately went on the defensive as one of the drivers gestured at the two boda-bodas and pointed at Kelly and me and told us to climb on and “Mr. Andy” could ride the one bike. Kelly and I looked at each other and then just to make sure that no one thought we NEEDED to be carried around like we were incapable of riding ourselves, we each hiked up our skirts, lifted a leg over the side and boldly straddled the boda-bodas. (After all, aren’t we here for women’s empowerment?).
Then we were off. We were flying down a rocky dirt road in the early morning sun with a clear purpose and a mission. It was exhilarating and I immediately forgot to be offended that I was on a boda-boda instead of my own bike.
I was unprepared for the scene that was waiting for us at the first school, Nyangwayo Primary. As we rode up, children swarmed us from every direction, screaming, smiling and waving frantically. Some of them were so excited that they forgot to look where they were going and ran into their peers and stumbled on rocks and tree roots. As we dismounted, we were instantly surrounded by crowd of children and a hundred small black hands outstretched as their voices chimed in unison, “How are YOU?!”—one of the English phrases that most Kenyans know. All of them were so excited.
Andy found the principal in the midst of the excitement and requested an exclusive audience with the Standard 7 and 8 girls, which was quickly granted. As the three of us walked into the classroom, the girls were smiling and whispering amongst themselves excitedly at having been specially chosen from among all the students. All three of us introduced ourselves to them and explained that we were from WISER. Before we went any further, their head teacher asked that each girl stand and introduce herself. So as Kelly, Andy, and I stood in front of the class with the word WISER written on the board behind us, one by one, the girls stood up and said their names aloud. Anna Wigesa, Standard 7. Jocinter Bittah, Standard 7. Each girl in turn.
About halfway through the introductions of the 20 or so girls in the room, it hit me. These could be our girls. These girls are what we have been working for over the past year and a half. This is who we have come to help and work with. These girls. I started to get a little choked up as I realized the enormity of it. For a year now, I have been writing grants and doing research with other members of this team as we try our best to raise money to make the WISER school a reality. But in that year it had never been as real as it was in that moment meeting their eyes as they said their names. This is who we are working for. WISER is not only an ideological project. It is the dreams and futures of these girls.
After the introductions, we told them all about WISER and invited some of them to Girls’ Day. They cheered when we told them that 70% of the girls at WISER will be from right here in Muhuru and that 70% of them will be on scholarships. It was unbelievable.
Over the next two days, Kelly and I happily rode boda-bodas with our drivers (who turned out to be really awesome and helpful) to all 9 primary schools in Muhuru. I cannot really express how incredible it was to finally be able to put faces to the project on which we have been working for so long. To see how excited they were and hear them promise to work hard in the next year so that they might be one of the first girls at WISER was more than satisfying. It really brought all of our work into perspective for me. They make everything worth it.
One school, Ibencho, is on top of a mountain. Our bike drivers had to abandon pedaling on the way there because the path was so steep and rocky. We hiked the rest of the way to the top, and it took the majority of the morning. When we got there, there were only 3 girls there for us to talk to because of a special religious camp nearby. I was tempted to be disappointed at first, but as soon as we started talking about WISER and I saw the girls’ faces, I knew it was worth it. I think all of us would climb a mountain to bring WISER to just one girl.
So here in Muhuru, WISER is really starting to become a reality. We had Girls’ Day this week, and it was a huge success. Almost all of the girls that we invited were able to attend, which is really saying something since some of the girls were from more than 2 hours away by foot. The whole day was amazing. The girls rotated through different stations learning about WISER, leadership, and playing games.
At my station, I taught all the girls the WISER song which we had written before the CampWISER intersession. Each small group learned the song before going to the next group. The announcement had just been made to stop for lunch as I was with one of my last groups. They were still learning the song, so we decided to go a couple of minutes long and keep singing. As we were singing, of their own accord, all of the other girls came from all over camp as gathered around us and began to sing with us. They had already been through my station and learned my song so as they began to sing, I realized that this was the first time that all of us were singing the song together. Soon we were surrounded by all the girls at camp as well as the other members of the WISER team and all of us were singing together. I stood up on a chair with the guitar so that everyone could hear it and we just continued singing the WISER song together. Music moves people. I saw Tyla crying as we sang and had to work myself to keep my voice steady as we sang the words that we wrote together. I wish I could explain it better here so that you could understand exactly the magnitude and power of that moment. But let it suffice to say that it is one of those memories that will stay with me for the rest of my life.
So until next time,
liveWISER!
April
Hello again!
So as many of you know, WISER will open in January of 2009. We are beginning the exciting process of recruiting girls who will be in the first class of Form 1 and Form 2 (9th and 10th grade ) which means that we are talking to girls in Standard 7 and Standard 8 (7th and 8th grade). We planned a special event called WISER Girls’ Day where we decided to invite the top 50% of the Standard 7 girls in the Muhuru District to come meet each other and interact with each other and to learn all about WISER and what it will be.
On July 30th and 31st, Andy, Kelly and I went out to tell those Standard 7 and 8 girls all about WISER and Girls’ Day.
We woke up early, when the sun’s rays are new, long, and orange and the roosters, cows and donkeys in our front yard are making the most noise (around 6:30). The three of us grabbed a quick breakfast of boiled eggs and hot tea and dragged ourselves outside to meet our guides who were to show us the way to each of the 9 primary schools in the Muhuru Bay district.
We were surprised as we came outside as we found not a bicycle for each of us, as we had expected, but ONE bike and two gentlemen with boda-bodas. A boda-boda is basically the bicycle version of a taxi. The “driver” sits on the front part of the bike and pedals, and there is a cushion that sits above the back wheel for the passenger. Generally when I am in Kenya, each time I see a Boda-boda, there is a man pedalling a woman on the back who is riding the cushion side-saddled. I immediately went on the defensive as one of the drivers gestured at the two boda-bodas and pointed at Kelly and me and told us to climb on and “Mr. Andy” could ride the one bike. Kelly and I looked at each other and then just to make sure that no one thought we NEEDED to be carried around like we were incapable of riding ourselves, we each hiked up our skirts, lifted a leg over the side and boldly straddled the boda-bodas. (After all, aren’t we here for women’s empowerment?).
Then we were off. We were flying down a rocky dirt road in the early morning sun with a clear purpose and a mission. It was exhilarating and I immediately forgot to be offended that I was on a boda-boda instead of my own bike.
I was unprepared for the scene that was waiting for us at the first school, Nyangwayo Primary. As we rode up, children swarmed us from every direction, screaming, smiling and waving frantically. Some of them were so excited that they forgot to look where they were going and ran into their peers and stumbled on rocks and tree roots. As we dismounted, we were instantly surrounded by crowd of children and a hundred small black hands outstretched as their voices chimed in unison, “How are YOU?!”—one of the English phrases that most Kenyans know. All of them were so excited.
Andy found the principal in the midst of the excitement and requested an exclusive audience with the Standard 7 and 8 girls, which was quickly granted. As the three of us walked into the classroom, the girls were smiling and whispering amongst themselves excitedly at having been specially chosen from among all the students. All three of us introduced ourselves to them and explained that we were from WISER. Before we went any further, their head teacher asked that each girl stand and introduce herself. So as Kelly, Andy, and I stood in front of the class with the word WISER written on the board behind us, one by one, the girls stood up and said their names aloud. Anna Wigesa, Standard 7. Jocinter Bittah, Standard 7. Each girl in turn.
About halfway through the introductions of the 20 or so girls in the room, it hit me. These could be our girls. These girls are what we have been working for over the past year and a half. This is who we have come to help and work with. These girls. I started to get a little choked up as I realized the enormity of it. For a year now, I have been writing grants and doing research with other members of this team as we try our best to raise money to make the WISER school a reality. But in that year it had never been as real as it was in that moment meeting their eyes as they said their names. This is who we are working for. WISER is not only an ideological project. It is the dreams and futures of these girls.
After the introductions, we told them all about WISER and invited some of them to Girls’ Day. They cheered when we told them that 70% of the girls at WISER will be from right here in Muhuru and that 70% of them will be on scholarships. It was unbelievable.
Over the next two days, Kelly and I happily rode boda-bodas with our drivers (who turned out to be really awesome and helpful) to all 9 primary schools in Muhuru. I cannot really express how incredible it was to finally be able to put faces to the project on which we have been working for so long. To see how excited they were and hear them promise to work hard in the next year so that they might be one of the first girls at WISER was more than satisfying. It really brought all of our work into perspective for me. They make everything worth it.
One school, Ibencho, is on top of a mountain. Our bike drivers had to abandon pedaling on the way there because the path was so steep and rocky. We hiked the rest of the way to the top, and it took the majority of the morning. When we got there, there were only 3 girls there for us to talk to because of a special religious camp nearby. I was tempted to be disappointed at first, but as soon as we started talking about WISER and I saw the girls’ faces, I knew it was worth it. I think all of us would climb a mountain to bring WISER to just one girl.
So here in Muhuru, WISER is really starting to become a reality. We had Girls’ Day this week, and it was a huge success. Almost all of the girls that we invited were able to attend, which is really saying something since some of the girls were from more than 2 hours away by foot. The whole day was amazing. The girls rotated through different stations learning about WISER, leadership, and playing games.
At my station, I taught all the girls the WISER song which we had written before the CampWISER intersession. Each small group learned the song before going to the next group. The announcement had just been made to stop for lunch as I was with one of my last groups. They were still learning the song, so we decided to go a couple of minutes long and keep singing. As we were singing, of their own accord, all of the other girls came from all over camp as gathered around us and began to sing with us. They had already been through my station and learned my song so as they began to sing, I realized that this was the first time that all of us were singing the song together. Soon we were surrounded by all the girls at camp as well as the other members of the WISER team and all of us were singing together. I stood up on a chair with the guitar so that everyone could hear it and we just continued singing the WISER song together. Music moves people. I saw Tyla crying as we sang and had to work myself to keep my voice steady as we sang the words that we wrote together. I wish I could explain it better here so that you could understand exactly the magnitude and power of that moment. But let it suffice to say that it is one of those memories that will stay with me for the rest of my life.
So until next time,
liveWISER!
April
A View of Muhuru
By: Sunny Kantha
Imagine supporting a family of 10 with $3 a day. Better yet, imagine if this $3 were only guaranteed for 8 months of the year because of your crop yields.
Such statistics probably beckon you to high school when most of us first heard them. But if you’re anything like me, you probably found it hard to truly comprehend this harsh reality.
Welcome to Muhuru Bay, Kenya.
Situated on the shores of the beautiful Lake Victoria, Muhuru Bay is a small agricultural and fishing village with around twenty thousand residents. Our task this summer: circle the 29 sub-regions of Muhuru Bay to conduct a microfinance needs-assessment survey. This survey will help us understand what needs to be done to transform the economic condition of Muhuru Bay through microfinance.
Microfinance is the process of providing small loans to uplift the impoverished. By giving money to those not approved for traditional lending, microfinance is quickly becoming a revolution in poverty alleviation. Muhammad Yunus’ Nobel Peace Prize for his work on the Grameen Bank reaffirmed microfinance as a significant agent for change in South Asia. However, it seems as if such success has yet to be replicated in sub-Saharan Africa. I find this situation to be puzzling given the incredible work ethic of the citizens of Muhuru Bay,
Every day, I have the privilege of getting to know the residents of Muhuru Bay and their way of life while I am collecting their economic information. What surprises me about these people is their ability to persevere and remain optimistic through incredibly harsh economic conditions. After visiting nearly seventy-five households, it is surprising how many families have only a widowed mother in charge of feeding and educating all of her children. Additionally, the cultural practice of polygamy leaves a multitude of families with more children than they can properly feed, much less educate. Yet, despite numerous obstacles, many children pursue an education and help full time with supporting their families.
Considering that many families work so hard, they should be able to eventually improve their plight, right? Coming from a country where loans are as easy as visiting a bank or payday loan center, this may seem obvious. However, lack of access to capital is a serious problem in Muhuru Bay. The problem is so serious that many families find successive generations in the same economic morass. One of our ultimate aims of this project is to bring microfinance to Muhurians. This will go hand-in-hand with the aims of the WISER school (www.wisesrgirls.org) in terms of empowering the community. I am grateful to have the privilege to work with WISER and help this community, while at the same time enriching my learning.
What has astonished me about my experience thus far in Muhuru Bay is not the breadth of my learning, but that these are lessons I could never have learned in a classroom. The difference between reading about poverty in a textbook, and experiencing it firsthand in a developing country is tremendous. In this journey through Muhuru Bay, I have seen almost every socioeconomic class in the world. From the absolutely poor, living on less than $1 a day, to the extreme minority who could be considered wealthy by American standards.
The most heartbreaking and enlightening conversations I have had were with families who have lost numerous family members—usually young children—to malaria or HIV. After hearing stories this powerful, I cannot stand idly by while Muhuru suffers. This is why I hope to be back in 2008.
Imagine supporting a family of 10 with $3 a day. Better yet, imagine if this $3 were only guaranteed for 8 months of the year because of your crop yields.
Such statistics probably beckon you to high school when most of us first heard them. But if you’re anything like me, you probably found it hard to truly comprehend this harsh reality.
Welcome to Muhuru Bay, Kenya.
Situated on the shores of the beautiful Lake Victoria, Muhuru Bay is a small agricultural and fishing village with around twenty thousand residents. Our task this summer: circle the 29 sub-regions of Muhuru Bay to conduct a microfinance needs-assessment survey. This survey will help us understand what needs to be done to transform the economic condition of Muhuru Bay through microfinance.
Microfinance is the process of providing small loans to uplift the impoverished. By giving money to those not approved for traditional lending, microfinance is quickly becoming a revolution in poverty alleviation. Muhammad Yunus’ Nobel Peace Prize for his work on the Grameen Bank reaffirmed microfinance as a significant agent for change in South Asia. However, it seems as if such success has yet to be replicated in sub-Saharan Africa. I find this situation to be puzzling given the incredible work ethic of the citizens of Muhuru Bay,
Every day, I have the privilege of getting to know the residents of Muhuru Bay and their way of life while I am collecting their economic information. What surprises me about these people is their ability to persevere and remain optimistic through incredibly harsh economic conditions. After visiting nearly seventy-five households, it is surprising how many families have only a widowed mother in charge of feeding and educating all of her children. Additionally, the cultural practice of polygamy leaves a multitude of families with more children than they can properly feed, much less educate. Yet, despite numerous obstacles, many children pursue an education and help full time with supporting their families.
Considering that many families work so hard, they should be able to eventually improve their plight, right? Coming from a country where loans are as easy as visiting a bank or payday loan center, this may seem obvious. However, lack of access to capital is a serious problem in Muhuru Bay. The problem is so serious that many families find successive generations in the same economic morass. One of our ultimate aims of this project is to bring microfinance to Muhurians. This will go hand-in-hand with the aims of the WISER school (www.wisesrgirls.org) in terms of empowering the community. I am grateful to have the privilege to work with WISER and help this community, while at the same time enriching my learning.
What has astonished me about my experience thus far in Muhuru Bay is not the breadth of my learning, but that these are lessons I could never have learned in a classroom. The difference between reading about poverty in a textbook, and experiencing it firsthand in a developing country is tremendous. In this journey through Muhuru Bay, I have seen almost every socioeconomic class in the world. From the absolutely poor, living on less than $1 a day, to the extreme minority who could be considered wealthy by American standards.
The most heartbreaking and enlightening conversations I have had were with families who have lost numerous family members—usually young children—to malaria or HIV. After hearing stories this powerful, I cannot stand idly by while Muhuru suffers. This is why I hope to be back in 2008.
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