Beautiful girl, you can do hard things
As much as I love it here, it’s hit me hard some days. I’ve had the most unique and amazing experiences of my life here and this day has definitely gone down as one of my most memorable. I shadowed my roommate Alyssa for a day, she invited Aaron and I to come see one of her field days in the neighbourhood. We took a boda to Namuwongo and met her co-workers Teddy ad Victor who walked us through the Soweto community. Teddy is a librarian at the Namuwongo Community Library where she works with Victor who runs programs there with the kids. This day we packed a bag full of books and went into the community where they hold a school-like program for children who (for various reasons) aren’t able to go to school. Here they get the opportunity to learn to read, speak English, draw, play games and sing songs. These kids had so much energy and enthusiasm for learning, it honestly filled my spirits. I stayed and watched and played games and sang with them. I wish I could take their laughs home with me. During one of the readings, I sat outside and had a conversation with one of the staff members that run the program. I asked about the age and pre-requirements for the children to be able to assist this program, she said the children can be of any age, from infants to young teens, they come here to learn while the other kids are in school. They have almost 100 kids signed up, but this particular day only about 40 were present. I gazed into the tiny room. The wooden-boarded walls reminded me of the villages in the islands. This tiny room, with tiny chairs, no tables, no windows, but full of hearts and smiles.
I closed my eyes for a minute and was incredibly thankful that this existed, and that I was here, and that these people love what they do and that these children have such a place to go and do what children do. I opened my eyes and saw some of the kids (but not all) holding worn-out little notebooks and little pencils. I heard a baby’s cry from the back of the room and saw one of the older kids holding a baby and trying to calm its cries. I nudged at Aaron so he could see, what I assume was a sibling interaction. He nodded and showed me another kid also holding a baby. I looked at the group. The little group with little hands and little chairs. There was a girl in a blue dress, can’t be more than 5 years old. She was paying full attention to Alyssa and Teddy as they began an interactive song and dance. As the kids stood up and began the hand motions, this girl remained seated with her baby sister clung on to her body like a baby koala. She participated in the hand motions as much as she could, her tiny fingers barely touching as she tried to clap with arms around her sister. Her baby sister (must’ve been no more than 9 months old) fussed and although the lesson continued, she got up and carried her sister on her hip and respectfully stepped outside while her sister cried. I watched as she held her sister as a mother would, and caressed the back of her head in such a sweet way it even soothed me. I exhaled. Hadn’t noticed I was watching in such awe and admiration that I forgot to breathe. I closed my eyes again. I breathed again. I was thankful that these girls had each other. I was thankful for the girls’ parents or whoever taught her how to love. I prayed that even through the perils they might experience in this life, this bond that I have seen them build will not be broken. I have never had a sister, or a sibling, or a child. But watching them, I can say it moved my heart in a way that for that moment, I longed for a sister I never had, or even a child I have yet to hold. I sat on the ground and gave them a smile, the older sister smiled at me shyly as I motioned for her to come sit beside me. I wanted to help carry the weight of her sister who was almost a third of her size, so she could participate more in the lesson. As she approached me, her baby sister began to cry more so they turned away. Her baby sister trusted no one but the girl who safely held her in her arms and with her entire body.
I went home that day with a heavy heart full of love. I had remained cool, calm and collected throughout the day that I just broke as soon as I stepped into my room. I couldn’t help but tear up as I shared with my roommates about my day. I told them how those kids loved school, and how their parents wanted them to go to school, but money was a detrimental obstacle. Alyssa told me that often and especially in families with multiple kids (as most of them are here), the parents can only afford to send one child to school so the mother chooses the most clever. The most clever. How do you send the one that is most clever? What happens to the self-esteem of the siblings that aren’t chosen? I can’t say, but it’s probably the norm here so they don’t pay much attention to this life altering choice.
I told them about the sisters, and how in general, parents work all day and mothers can’t afford to take time off even for babies so the older siblings usually end up taking care of each other. In the sisters’ case, the oldest appeared to be a mere 5 years young.
I fell asleep that night to the thought of a love as tangible as theirs.
^ This is posted on a wall at the Namuwongo Community Library where they are promoting gender equality and have a variety of empowering and inspirational posts all over the walls that show that women can be strong and successful
