After nearly two months of being back in the United States, I still find my heart and mind dwelling on the girls I met in Kenya. My experience living with the girls has seeped in to different aspects of my life. In classes, talking about development in the ‘third world’ takes on a whole new meaning after walking alongside the girls and seeing the struggles they face. On a broader scale, it has increased my awareness of inequality and made me consider the ways in which the global disparity of wealth is perpetuated. Though this was my second trip to Kenya, I came away with different lessons and was prompted to contemplate new questions.
One of the challenges I wrestled with during my trip was seeing well-intended assistance become harmful at times. The amount of foreign money that is put in to charity work in Kenya has the unfortunate side effect of creating an environment susceptible to corruption. I heard stories from different adults about how many ‘children’s homes’ do not actually care for children. Stories ranged from outright scams to selling off a few donations here and there rather than give them to the children. For me, this was eye-opening and heartbreaking. Another woman from Sure 24 told me about the dependency syndrome that she has seen aid create over the years. She said that some microfinance projects she had witnessed failed because of this dependency mindset. Another issue I noticed was the prevalence of corporal punishment in schools. Though I knew it was common practice, and many of the kids actually affirmed it as a good form of discipline, it twisted my gut. Would sponsors in the west feel as good about sending a child to school if they knew that child was beat at school? But then again the child was still receiving an education, so perhaps it comes down to picking battles. Again, I was struck with the complex consequences that foreign assistance can have.
Coming home, I wasn’t sure how to talk about this dissonance that I experienced. It was much easier to talk about the beautiful children I met, the stories they told me, and day-to-day life. The questions about the inequitable distribution of wealth and the complexity of foreign assistance in addressing this problem still distracted me. After a few weeks back, I was able to attend a lecture by Mary B. Anderson entitled “The Listening Project: How Recipients Judge International Assistance.” Through this project, her team has interviewed over 6,000 individuals in 15 countries over four years in order to investigate what recipients expected out of aid, and what they actually received. It was a nice reminder that I wasn’t the only one asking these questions.
She reflected on her findings and spoke about the dependency on aid that commonly develops, despite the fact that recipients did not anticipate nor desire this outcome. She attributed some of this to the business-model that aid agencies have adapted to, where pressure is placed on growing your program, rather than create programs where you will no longer be needed and therefore shrink your size. Anderson said that one of the most remarkable parts of her findings was that the overwhelmingly similar responses she heard from dissatisfied aid recipients regardless of the country they were from or the type of assistance they received. She noted only one exception to this rule: Women’s programs. She said that through her research she had found that women’s programs did enhance local appreciation more than any other type of aid. Anderson’s lecture showed me the important role of taking a critical look at how international assistance is delivered and gave me hope. Anderson has been working in the aid community for fifty years. She sees the flaws and yet still believes it is something worth investing her entire career in. In concluding her lecture, Anderson spoke about the role that relationships play in international development. She explained that the new paradigm of aid should start with respectful collegial engagement in order to share perspectives and solve problems.
This helped me to see more of the beauty of my time in Kenya. I am so grateful for the relationships I was able to build with the girls there. Learning about the issues they have faced and what still lies ahead has inspired and challenged me. Most importantly, it has created a thirst in me for more: more learning, more understanding and more equality.
I’ve returned to the States and settled back in to my school and work routine. It’s a little jolting to transition between such drastically different environments. However, it’s been helpful to return to a learning and working environment that lets me reflect on my experience. It was difficult leaving the kids after I had spent every waking moment with them for a month, but I was happy to see the progress that had been made since I had first arrived.
I spent my last day in Kenya waiting with Nancy to see her surgeon. My patience was tested as we spent hours traveling to the hospital, the rest of the day in the waiting room, and then she was never seen by the doctor. Fortunately she was able to be seen a couple days later, and her checkup was positive. The doctor said that there was no discharge, which is a good sign that she is not in any danger. Nancy has also received invitations to a number of good secondary schools based off of her KCPE exam results. She is eager to resume her studies, which will begin later this month.
Nancy, cheerful as always, cooking ugali.
It was incredible to see the progress that was made on the girls’ dormitory while I was there and I am happy to say it is now open!
Sammy and I in front of the Girl's Dorm, just finished some shoveling.
When I first arrived the inside was far from finished. The girls and I would frequently walk by and check on the progress as they awaited the completion of their new home. They each knew which room they would be moving in to and their smiles easily betrayed how very excited they were. On some days we were able to help with the construction by shoveling sand and rocks from the inside, painting doors, and fitting windowpanes.
After the doors had been installed.
Nova and Nikky, a fellow volunteer, installing window panes.
Yesterday I received an email from Sammy, the director, who informed me that the girls dorm officially opened on Thursday and the girls have already spent three nights there. I wish I would have been able to see the grand opening, but witnessing the quick progress and the girls’ anticipation was a gift in itself. The nine girls who I was primarily working with make up the first of the 48 girls who will occupy the dorm. Another twelve girls will be transferred from the Jamii center. First and foremost, the new dorm means greater security for these girls. They have never been in an exclusively female institution, and the old center was still in a vulnerable part of the town. Secondly, it will give them greater access to education. They used to walk over an hour to school every day, which made it difficult for the young girls to attend classes. The school they will now be attending is only a two minute walk from the dormitory! These girls will transform their communities by showing what girls are capable of when they are given an opportunity to succeed. They are bright, hard-working, and have the vision to better their own lives and those around them.
The stories and kindness that the girls shared with me melted my heart and inspired me. My experience made me more appreciative of the power of international aid yet also aware of the complexities involved. In the coming weeks I will be attending lectures on this and other topics at the Institute for Peace and Justice on campus as I continue to reflect upon my experience.
The last week has been filled with washing clothes, feeding chickens, shoveling rocks, and a million other little tasks. But in between these little jobs are the moments that make these kind of journies so powerful. Its not so much the negligable labor I’m able to contribute to the construction of the new girls dormitory that makes an imprint on my soul. Driving out to the town dumpsite and meeting the girls whose lives have been forever changed by this institution is the kind of thing that will stay with me for a lifetime I’m sure. Yesterday we sat in the home of three sisters, 15 to 19 years old, who live in a small house made of sticks, rocks, and mud with their 82-year old grandma. Sammy, the founder of the Sure 24 home, befriended the eldest and has helped her to finish a bridging course and will continue to support her as she begins university this fall. I watched in amazement as the younger girls dug through their school work to find their secondary school report cards and proudly showed them to Sammy. One had achieved position 3 out of 84 students! Sammy has been helping with their school fees and it is clear how hard they are willing to work when given the opportunity. The dumpsite itself was a devastating sight. There were piles upon piles of burning trash, enormous ghastly birds, and people walking through in raggedy clothes searching for food or any useful materials. The girls I had just met had grown up in this environment. I can’t begin to imagine the struggles they have faced. The new dorm will be filled with girls from the dumpsite who are hungry for a greater opportunity.
The thing about this whole organization is that it goes so much farther than ‘random acts of kindness.’ The people who run it have given their whole life over to helping these kids. And it even extends beyond the children to the entire community. There is constant growth as it increases to serve more and more people. It started with a safe home for children, extended to a school so that they could be educated, and now has all types of projects like a small farm, selling water, a tailor shop, a salon, a mechanics garage, and a microfinance project to increase employment opportunities within the community and sustain the charitable work of reaching out to even more desperate children. They have created a thriving church community to provide for the spiritual needs as well. They are attacking the cycle of poverty from every angle and it is so effective. There is no comfortable point that they can reach and then sit back and say that their work is finished when there are so many who need assistance. And I believe the same should be true for any of our lives. There is no room for complacency when there is so much good to be done in this world, and it can certainly take place in any community, anywhere in the world.
Wanjiru, another girl staying at Sure 24 Home was eager to share her story as well, so here it is:
Wanjiru, 15
My parents died when I was young. My mom died while giving birth to a son. He also died. My father was a drunkard and couldn’t care for us. Then my grandma took in all four of us. We all lived together in Nakuru with my grandma, grandpa, his second wife, and her family. It was very hard and my grandpa told my grandma to sell us to a white man so that she wouldn’t be so stressed anymore, but she refused. Instead she sent us to live with one of her friends. While I was living there a good samaritan came along and paid our primary school fees. I was in class one when Marianne came to our school and offered help to the needy children. Now its been eight years that she has cared for me. She has taken me far, I respect her so much.
When I grow up I want to be either a surgeon or a lawyer. I want to be a surgeon so I can treat people and help them be well, I can’t let them die. I want to be a lawyer so I can protect the rights of people. In Kenya, many of the people in powerful positions don’t have the heart to help, so many children are suffering. I want to have a big family, atleast five kids, and a good husband.
To other girls I would say don’t lose hope, God won’t leave you alone. Carry on with your life even when it is hard. Work hard in school and put God first in everything you do. God will shine upon your life.
I’ve really been enjoying my time here, and I’ve been learning a great deal of patience in the last few days. We haven’t been able to take Nancy to the hospital yet because her doctor who knows her case will not return until mid January. The pace of life is so much slower here that it can be frustrating at times. But things are starting to swing in to motion as the roof of the school is almost finished and most children have completed their placement exams for this year of school. The kids still amaze me on a daily basis with new stories and games. Its such a blessing to see the different ways that people live. I’m cherishing the simple moments of being taught to cook by a loving grandmother who I can’t even communicate with or staring up at different constellations. Here’s a couple more stories from the girls:
Nova – 14
I have four sisters and five brothers. My mother is a widow and couldn’t find work so she struggled to feed us. It was a difficult life but we survived. During the violence in 2007 my mom departed. I didn’t follow her because I didn’t want to give her more problems. My mom knew Marianne and asked her if I could stay at Jamii (Sure 24 Children’s center) and she said yes. Then my mother left and went to her village and I haven’t seen her since.
This year I finished class 8 and I’ll be starting secondary school soon. My mom will be very happy and surprised when I finish secondary school because she was never even able to afford the fees for primary school. Right now I’m very, very happy because I’m healthy and because I know God loves me. When I grow up I want to be a lawyer. Many of the lawyers in Kenya are corrupt, so I want to do better. I want to protect the rights of Kenyans because many people are physically abused and they don’t have anyone to defend them. I think the biggest challenge will be to pay the fees for university. I’d also like to travel the whole world so I can defend people just like the UN.
If I could give advice to other girls I would tell them to take very good care of their lives. Even if you are in a difficult situation don’t think that you have been left alone and don’t think about prostitution. Even if life is very hard, education is the key to making it better – you can’t make it anywhere without being able to read. Life is a journey, so don’t give up. Whether you’re rich, and have lots of cars and houses and things, or if you’re poor, we are all humans and created by the same God, so don’t feel neglected.
Wangare –11
My dad used to beat my mom everyday, so my mom ran away, then my father left us too. My two brother and two sisters and I didn’t have anywhere to go so we were on the streets in 2010. A woman found me and took me in to her home for one month. After that she took me to Jamii center. I am happy to have a home now but I don’t know where my brothers and sisters are.
English and math are my favorite subjects. I like living with the older girls because they teach me so I can understand many things. When I’m older I want to have a big family and help lots of children just like I’m getting help.
I’ve finally arrived at my long awaited destination: Nakuru, Kenya. I left Sure 24 Children’s home two and a half years ago. With the support of a grant from Stirring the Fire, I’ve been blessed with the opportunity to return for the newest addition to Sure 24, a brand new girls dormitory! For the semester leading up to this I’ve been volunteering in an afterschool program for high school refugee girls in San Diego with the International Rescue Committee. It was a rewarding experience and the girls were a highlight of my week every single time.
Sure 24 is a home for children from many different backgrounds. Many of them have been subjected to the harsh life on the streets of Kenya. Others lost their parents or homes in the 2007 clashes. After a disputed election, violence erupted between tribes in Kenya which caused many deaths and the displacement of approximately 250,000 people. Sammy, the founder of the home, lived on the streets as a child until a kind stranger lifted him out of that life and invested in his education. He is the pastor of the local church and one of the most generous and kind-hearted people I have ever met. In addition to the children’s home, he has established a mechanic shop, tailor shop, and salon to create employment opportunities. He has also created a school and church for the local community. Originally, I was placed at Sure 24 through International Volunteer Headquarters, a volunteer coordination organization. I fell in love with the children during my first visit in 2009 and dreamed of returning ever since.
I barely recognized the place when I drove up. It wasn’t because of the years that passed; I have such rich memories of this place I feel like I was here yesterday. There have been enormous changes. Just to name a few, electricity has been installed, there is running water from their very own well, a thriving garden has been cultivated, and there is a new coop full of chickens. The only thing that has stayed the same is the shining faces that were here to greet me. There were new faces as well. Nine lovely girls have moved in to a temporary room while they wait for the new dorm to be finished. In my first few days here they have been so welcoming and have told me some incredible tales. So instead of continuing my own, I thought I’d give them a chance to share their stories.
Chelop – 17
In the 2007 clashes, my house was burned down and my father was killed. I was separated from my family and sent to a different IDP (internally displaced person) camp than the rest of them. While I was in the camp, Marianne (Sure 24 staff member) came and was preaching and handing out food. When I met her I told her my story and she told me to come with her. The camp was very dangerous, it was still being attacked, so I went with her right then. I have lived at Jamii (Sure 24 center) since then. Now I am entering my fourth year of secondary school and I will be the first girl in my family to complete secondary. In the future, I want to be a doctor or a singer. I want to be a doctor because I would like to treat people and learn about diseases. I want to be a singer because I have the voice and the talent. I love music and whenever I’m doing something and I hear music I get distracted and can only listen to the music. The biggest obstacle to becoming a doctor is to pass the KCSE (Secondary exam). I’ll have to read a lot. The biggest challenge to becoming a singer will be to write my own songs, I’m not sure how to do that but I love singing. I would also like to travel – to see people from different races, to meet and encourage people about life, because life is what you make of it. When I grow up, I would like to help me family. I want the community to see how much a girl can do and I want to help others. Now, I’m still young, so I can’t help until I have my first job. Even now, I’m depending on others so its difficult. My advice to other girls is that you should never let anyone discourage you. God has great plans for each person. Life is a drum – you must play your part. When you are in the classroom, be a good student. When you are with your parents, be a good daughter. As for your goals and dreams – use these ten words: if it is to be, it is up to me. You must strive for the things that you want to achieve.
Last week, I got to chaperone a special Girl’s Group trip. We took a field trip to Feeding America San Diego’s food warehouse to sort and prepare food for needy families. The high school requires that all students complete community service hours before graduation. So for my community service, I was helping the girls complete their community service, I wondered if one cancelled out the other, or did that count for double community service brownie points… either way, I was excited to see the girls in a new environment and all that the day had in store for us. I drove two girls to the food storage warehouse, one was from Tijuana and the other was from Panama. When we started on our trip the girls were pretty quiet in my car. They only offered one or two word responses. We eventually made it to the warehouse and the livened up once we joined up with the full group. All of us stared as we walked through the enormous warehouse. There were bags upon bags of food: rice, beans, and other staples. There was a giant refrigerator that was at least triple the size of my house. There was a sense of awe as we walked through and took in the scale of their operation.
In total, about 30 of us showed up to assist with food packaging. We split into groups and were given different tasks. I worked with a team of about 6 girls to package beans. We placed the beans in plastic bags, measured perfectly to the weight of one pound, and then sealed them up. It turned in to a comical little assembly line with hairnets and gloves. We had the most extensive conversation I’ve ever had about beans, how one family cooks them compared to another, which culture prepares them best, and so on. The girls all had big smiles on their faces and seemed to be enjoying the new task at hand. We talked about the good work done by Feeding America San Diego. Each week they provide food to over 73,000 hungry individuals in San Diego. Many of the girls’ families receive food aid through food stamps or other programs, so I think it was easy for the girls to relate to the mission of the organization. The girls worked together well and in good spirits.
The drive home was remarkably different than the drive there. The girls had loosened up and we were joking and laughing most of the way home. The music got turned up and we sang and danced. In just a couple hours, barriers had come down. There were no profound bonding exercises or planned dialogues, but suddenly everything was a lot more comfortable once we had spent some time working together for a common cause. The girls shared with me about what they missed about their home countries. It was very relatable. Just as if any of us moved to a new city, they missed their neighborhoods, their friends, and that familiar feeling of home. It was a rich experience to witness the transformation of the girls’ attitudes and their willingness to work for the benefit of others.
The Assembly Line
Sealing the Package
Carrying to the Packing Station
Packaging the Boxes of Beans
The last two weeks of working with the International Rescue Committee’s Girls’ Group offered some serious contrast. For various reasons we’ve been playing a lot of soccer lately. Its been a good way to start meshing the girls together because it’s a passion that many of them share. We’ve also been fortunate enough to have the high school coach run extra practices, which is incredibly valuable to some of the girls who are planning to try out for the school team. We’ve also been blessed with beautiful weather that makes those green grassy fields even more attractive. Despite the same agenda, the past few weeks have had remarkably different outcomes
The soccer game that we played two weeks ago bordered on bliss. It was a small group that day, only 8 or so of us were playing. There were few distractions and the classic San Diego weather topped it off. All the girls were in a good mood: playful but not overly competitive. There were one or two new girls and they were welcomed and immediately included. There was more laughing than anything else. Anyone who tumbled after going for the ball was immediately helped up by whoever was left standing. Its easy to forget what kind of stories these young women have when you see them in this environment. That’s the beauty of these programs, they give the students an opportunity to show their strengths and talents in a non-threatening setting. It gives them an opportunity to shine their light and relax in to this new environment of safety.
Now skip ahead just one week to the next soccer game. Go back to the same grassy fields and beautiful weather. More girls show up to play this game, but the school coach has them well-organized in to drills before we know it. Just before we break to switch to everyone’s favorite part – the scrimmage – a cluster of girls starts to gather. Tensions rise quickly. Before I have time to get there the shouting and pushing has escalated to slapping and hair pulling.
A fellow volunteer and I were able to separate them before anyone got hurt. I sat with one of the girls involved to try to hear out her side of the story, calm her down, and help facilitate mediation. The girl I was working with began to explain her side to me. She fumed about being untreated unfairly by the other girl. But her explanations quickly expanded beyond the current confrontation. She started speaking about her family and neighborhood. She complained that she didn’t even know where the other girl lived, where she had come from, and then hinted at some previous bad relations between her and her siblings and the other girls. It highlighted that tensions didn’t necessarily stay at school or even between the students, they involved entire families. Most of this community has had to fight hard to protect their own. Understandably, it appeared that this type of mentality has not fully died away. It made me appreciate the wider challenges that these young women face. They are in a unique position to be at such an impressionable age and still caught in between two very different worlds.
The second soccer game gave me a greater appreciation for the ongoing work that the IRC does in supporting refugee girls. Though the first week showed me the beauty and potential of these young women, the second week highlighted the importance of continuing such programs. I have nothing but gratitude for the lessons I’m learning from these young women and the small insight I’m gaining in to their lives.
I walked through a high school campus today. Just as I climbed the stairs to the entrance the classic ringing of that long awaited bell announced the end of the school day. Students poured out of classrooms and the air was instantly filled with loud shouts and laughter. I fought my way through throngs of students who were eagerly leaving school. I got a few quizzical looks and curious glances. Maybe it was because I was going the opposite way as everyone else? Maybe it was because I graduated from high school three years ago? Or maybe it was because my skin was a little lighter than everyone else’s?
I hail from a small mountain town in Northern California. My high school was fairly large, somewhere around 2,700 students. The demographics of our school mirrored the demographics of our town which, to say the least, was not very diverse. Naturally, walking on a high school campus brings back memories of my own experiences from that time period. I can’t help but notice how drastically different this San Diego high school is from my own. The sounds are different: my ears are filled with Spanish, Swahili, and Somali. The skin is different: darker colors meet my eyes from the second-generation Hispanic students to the African teenagers who have only just arrived in America. The clothes are different: bright African scarves, long dresses, and hijabs are donned.
Don’t get me wrong, I hear conversations in English, see skin that’s closer to my own light tone, and see plenty of teens in jeans and t-shirts. But the point of it all is that there is much more than just that. Yet it all melts in to that familiar feeling we all know: the bell has tolled, the school day is over, and every face has a smile on it.
As the rest of the students pour out of campus, a few linger behind and start trickling in to classrooms. The particular one I’m in is designated as Girls’ Group. This is one of many after school programs put on by the International Rescue Committee of San Diego. The programs are open to the entire student body but they are primarily designed to support the refugee student population. Tennis club, beginning and intermediate English classes, computer classes, and a gardening club are just a few of the after school programs that the IRC offers.
Girls’ group meets once a week. It provides an opportunity to get together, do art, play sports, participate in cultural activities, go on field trips, and so on. A new activity is offered each week. There was a good turnout, about 20 girls showed up and there were 3 other volunteers. We did some icebreakers and then headed out to the soccer field to practice some drills and scrimmage. A number of the girls have expressed interest in playing for the high school soccer team so the afternoon activity provided a bonding opportunity for Girls’ Group and it helped brush up their skills for the upcoming tryouts.
These girls are outgoing, rambunctious, and they play hard. They’ve also witnessed challenges that many of us cannot begin to imagine. They have been deemed refugees by the U.N. and have moved across the globe to a new home in an unfamiliar environment. But despite whatever history they may have, they are thriving. Just watch them sprint after the ball, charm the boys walking by, and talk and laugh when the soccer game is over. These young women give off such vitality. But what about their friends they left behind in the refugee camps? What about the other girls they left behind in their home country? These girls show no sign of having fewer opportunities or lagging behind the boys in their class. But their counterparts in Africa often do not experience the same reality. Female literacy still pales in comparison to male literacy in many African nations. In the same region, the number of years that girls are expected to stay in school often lags behind the expectations of education for boys.
The International Rescue Committee has created an amazing environment for these girls as they find their place in a new society. These girls thrive despite everything they’ve been through. Is it because of the education and opportunities they’ve been given? This club brings out the best in them, and I’m honored to help facilitate it and looking forward to seeing how they will grow over this year.
So I’ll be sharing my journey as I go. From spending time with these young women, to academic research about female education in Africa, all the way to traveling back to Kenya to revisit my friends at Sure24 Orphanage and Living Fountain Academy that I left two years ago. I can’t wait for everything still to come: to meet new friends, hear new stories, and expand my own understanding of this important issue. I hope you’ll join me.
Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.
- William Butler Yeats
