I didn’t think turning 65 would bother me, but it has made me pause. I know now that most of my time has been used. I’m ok with that. I have been talking to a few people about how One Village at a Time got started. I pulled out a video that I put together several years ago.
I look at myself, listen to my words and it seems decades ago. I hear my American voice and I know that the people didn’t understand my nasal accent and me. I see that I was the one doing the work and being lady bountiful. I am almost embarrassed that the people in the film had to be the kindergarten where I first learned how to work in Africa. I hope I did more good than harm.
It’s only been 10 years since I started, but what a journey it has been. Learning patience, accepting the vicissitudes of everyday life over there, keeping hope up when you’re about to fall off the cliff.
The first program was in Siaya. I remember I was so proud that we were feeding, clothing and paying school fees for 18 kids for $4000. How naïve I was. We do that now for little more than $100. I had to learn to get better partners, and that you need to pay people over there. Otherwise the money they get is just too tempting to take a piece of. And sometimes they do even if you do pay them. I fled that fiasco when I found that the woman who was supposed to be running the program took all the money. Thank heavens for an understanding board.
The second program got better. We went into schools. I counted on a community organizer to help the program go. It was supposed to be cost sharing, but we never got accurate accounts, and they never made any progress. See, I was still seen as Lady Bountiful with unlimited funds. They had no impetus to change. Oh and that leader, he left for Mombasa and never told me.
But today, when I spoke to Monica in Kigali, I knew we were there. Our program is crisp and clean. I am the woman behind the curtain. No longer do the villagers see me as anything more than a curious white girl. Our team in the field is tough and organized. I found out that when the team went to one school and the parents had not put in their contribution, the team packed up and left. Yesssss. Monica went on to tell me of the changes in the team, all of them good.
We work together, she and I. We are on the same wavelength. We share the same vision. Get these communities up and running and self-sustaining as fast as possible. We laugh over the schools we thought would do poorly are now succeeding. We commiserate over a dishonest worker Monica had to fire. We lay plans for the future
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