At First Glance...

At first glance, they couldn’t be more dissimilar.  Austin- tall, robust, white-skinned, living in a small North Carolina city, surrounded by a supportive extended family; attending a free public high school; looking forward to getting his driver’s license and being able to drive the family car.  Emmanuel- short, slight, brown-skinned, living in a village outside of Kigali, Rwanda; orphaned and living with an older sister, her husband, and young son; attending a secondary school whose fees would be out-of-reach without assistance from friends in America.

But look again. For these two wonderful young men share something vitally important, something deep and basic: the love of learning, the value they place on higher education. Austin, in eighth grade,

already taking the SATs and placing in the 95th percentile; Emmanuel, in the Rwandan equivalent of eighth grade, taking national exams and placing in the 95th percentile, enabling him to qualify for a secondary education…both of them displaying an extraordinary intellect and the desire to learn.

I met Emmanuel on my 2010 trip to Rwanda with The Nyanya Project, while visiting with our grandmothers outside Kigali. He introduced himself to me and I was immediately captivated by his smile, his personality, and his obvious intelligence. He shared with me his love of music, languages, and his great desire and determination to go to university, to get an education in physical therapy so he can work with those in his country who are physically handicapped (and they are many, due in large part to the 1994 genocide). And in our admittedly short contact and conversation, I determined to help this young man in whatever way I could and to enlist the assistance of others in my circle of friends and family.

I met Austin in the small congregation I am now pastoring just outside of Lexington, NC on one of my first Sundays there following my African trip. As part of my sermon, I showed the photo of Emmanuel and talked about his great desire to receive an education, sharing the fact of school fees and the reality of the difficulty for families like his to come up with the monies to keep children- even incredibly gifted and intelligent children like Emmanuel- in school beyond the primary grades. And I shared with the congregation my determination to help in whatever way I could to enable this deserving young man to get the education he so desired. I could not help every child, I told them, but I could help one.

The next Sunday, following the worship service, Austin came up to me in the office. “Pastor Linda, here is something to help with Emmanuel’s education.” And he shyly handed me a one-hundred-dollar bill. Tears filled my eyes as I thanked him profusely for this gift, telling him how much that would mean, how significantly it would assist with the next semester’s fees. A smile spread over his face. “I know how important school is to me. I just couldn’t imagine not being able to go,” and, accepting my hug of gratitude, he slipped out the door.

It was only later that I learned from his grandmother, also a member of the congregation, that this money, which I had assumed was from his family, was actually Austin’s own, saved from gifts given to him, from his allowance, from doing various chores. And now, Instead of spending it on all of those many things teen-agers enjoy buying and having and using, Austin had- in response to the story of the need of a young boy like himself- given all he had at that moment to help…to contribute in some small way (or not so small, actually) to enable that boy in a far-away place, that boy he would probably never meet, to stay in school for another semester. So is the power of story…

Why Africa?

Why Africa? That's a question i am asked again and again when i speak of my work with the Nyanya Project in East Africa. Why Africa?...the implication being, "There are plenty of problems to be solved here...why not put your time and energy into them?" So perhaps i should explain, just a bit.

I became involved in work with people with HIV/AIDS back in the early 1990s, through the area AIDS ministry, Triad Health Project. In those days, AIDS was a deadly disease, taking lives- young lives- with dreadful frequency, and many of those i came to know died from this disease and its complications. But then came ARVs- antiretrovirals- and the complexion of AIDS in began to change, as AIDS in the USA became more and more a chronic disease...not one anyone wanted to contract, to be sure, but one which was not the immediate and certain death sentence it had once been. Then along came Nevirapine, a drug which can be given immediately after birth to the baby of an HIV-positive woman, reducing the chance of mother-to-child transmission by more than 50%, and suddenly children with AIDS became something rare in America, almost like children with polio or diptheria.

But in sub-Saharan Africa, the picture is very different. 76% of all women living with HIV worldwide reside in sub-Saharan Africa, as do 90% of all children living with HIV. Each day, in Africa, 6000 people die of HIV/AIDS-related causes. By the end of 2009 (the latest complete statistics), an estimated 33 million people were living with HIV worldwide, with about 22 million of them in sub-Saharan Africa, with an estimated 2.6 million new cases occuring each year. There are also 14.8 million AIDS orphans, which accounts for 10-12% of all children there.

And it is these last- the orphans- that draw me back- or rather, the grandmothers who care for them. Social services are not part of African culture, where the family has always been the basic unit of care, children providing for their parents as they aged. Homes for the aged are unheard-of there, as the younger generations made provision for the continuing care of their elders. At least this is how it used to be. But AIDS has changed that. Now- since the 15-24 year-old population is at greatest risk for the transmission of HIV- much of an entire generation had been and continues to be  wiped out, leaving innumerable children without parents- and elders without children to care for them. Indeed, these elders- mostly women in their 50s, 60s, and 70s- are now the people left to care for their orphaned grandchildren, as they are able and for as long as they can. 

Most often poor and without much education, these courageous, determined women are the focus of the work of the Nyanya Project, as we attempt to train them in new skills to run their small home businesses more effectively, or train them in something new, in order that they might earn sufficient money to care for their grandchildren, to provide adequate food and clothing, to buy uniforms for primary school and pay school fees for secondary school so that these children can receive an education to better their lives.

Grandmothers and grandchildren in Rwanda

Rosa and grandchildren, Tanzania



Eunice O, 73, Kibera, Kenya

To learn more about AIDS in Africa, here are some excellent and informative websites:

• Clinton HIV/AIDS Initiative http://www.clintonfoundation.org/
• Pan-African Treatment Access Movement http://www.patam.org/
• The Global Fund to Fight AIDS, TB, and Malaria http://www.theglobalfund.org/
• UNAIDS  http://www.unaids.org/
• Doctors without orders "Access to Essential Medicines Campaign"  http://www.doctorswithoutborders.org/
• Carolina for Kibera http://www.carolinaforkibera.org/
• The Nyanya Project http://www.nyanyaproject.org/

Some small explanation, perhaps, of why i am drawn back to Africa, back to people who have so little and yet are so determined to make a better life for those left in their care by circumstances far beyond their control. And lest you find yourself overwhelmed by the heavy statistics, let me add a word of hope. Within the teeming slum of Kibera, there is a program for young women called Binti Pamoja- Daughters United, in Swahili. Begun by two young American women, Karen Austrian and Emily Verellen, in 2002, Binti is a reproductive health and women's rights program for teenage girls. It is managed by Kenyans with support from US-based volunteers and offers a safe place for teenage girls to harness their creative energies, to give them a sense of hope, and promote mutual understanding in order that they might proactively affect change in their community.

A wonderful book of photos, essays, and comments from the participants in the program has been put together and can be purchsed through their website, http://www.bintipamoja.org/  The book is called Light Box, and is available for a contribution of $45. Know that 100% of the proceeds support the BP Center Scholarship Fund which helps these young women attend high school, something which might otherwise be impossible for them. Looking at the photos, reading the words of these young women, reminds me again and again why i am going back to Kibera, to Kenya, to Rwanda this summer. Africa calls...

The World of Kibera

Just finished reading Rye Barcott's new book, It Happened on the Way to War: a Marine's Path to Peace, and found it captivating. It brought Kibera, the largest slum in Africa, to life for me, as Barcott wrote about trying to balance his work there with his work in the Marine corps...making peace with the task of making war. 

For those of you who don't know, Rye Barcott was one of the founders of Carolina for Kibera, a non-profit begun in 2001 when Barcott was still a student at UNC/Chapel Hill, had received a fellowship to study in Africa and- intending to go to Rwanda- ended up in Kibera, in the city of Nairobi, Kenya.

Though i must confess to a lack of understanding Rye's dedication to the Marine corps and his seeing his serving in places like Somolia, Djibouti, and Iraq as part of his dedication to peace-making, i found myself fascinated by the way in which he linked his learnings and experiences everywhere he served to his work in Kibera. And his descriptions of that place brought it alive again for me, making me ever more certain of my decision to return there this summer. Places to go, people to see, things to learn...this is how i felt over and over again as i read this book, as it described realities and envisioned hope for the people in this place so far beyond the imaginings of most Americans.

Kibera is the home of the Nyanya Project preschool...the home of most of our grandmothers and their grandchildren, along with nearly 2 million other people. It is a place where homes are 10x10 shacks and kiriboto (bedbugs) prevail and running water and flush toilets are only dreamed-of luxuries...where famiies live on less than $1 a day...where hunger and malnourishment are the order of the day...where tribal unrest still raises its ugly head and where HIV/AIDS takes lives each and every day.

So why in the world, you might ask, so i want to return there? What draws me back to this dreadful-sounding place? It's the people... their courage, their determination, their willingness to work to make things better for their children and grandchildren. Perhaps Rye Barcott summed it up best in the closing lines of his book as he describes the buiding of what would become Tabitha Clinic, the largest, most modern medical clinic in Kibera, named for one of the founders of CFK who had herself died of AIDS-related complications. He is speaking with Salim, the young man who has been director of CFK's on-the-ground youth program in Kibera for 8 years:
 I turned to him (Salim). "Before she passed, Tabitha said, 'Don't quit pushing this thing.' We won't quit."
   "No, my brother, we won't." Salim placed his hand on my shoulder and looked into the community. There in the crisscrossing alleyways mamas balances jerricans of water on their heads; children kicked soccer balls made of plastic bags and twine; and men hauled bricks and mortat to what would become the largest clinic in Kibera. "We won't quit pushing because they won't."

Having been there, having come to know just a few of the people, having felt their spirit and courage and determination, i won't quit pushing, either...pushing myself and the Nyanya Project in our work, and pushing the rest of you to reach into you hearts and pockets to help with our work there. Visit the Nyanya Project website http://www.nyanyaproject.org/ to learn more and to make a contribution. There is much to be done...and you, YOU, can make a difference.