Jacinta and girls

Today I visited a 14 year old girl named Jacinta. When I first
met her, she had come to KIWAKKUKI in tears because her living and
schooling situation was dire. When she finished primary school (in Mwanza, Tz) her grandfather decided that primary was far enough for her to go and that he would marry her to an old man of the village. The old man had money and paid a nice dowry for her. (Both her parents had died of AIDS and the grandfather had taken her in.) She told him that she wanted to continue in school but he said that girls were not worth enough to be allowed to go to secondary school, he had accepted the money, he wanted her out. This girl ran away and managed to get to Moshi where some relative of hers had previously lived (it is a very long way from the Lake Region to Moshi). She found a lady who had been a friend
to this long dead relative and she agreed to take her in if she could get school
sponsorship. She came to KIWAKKUKI before I left. She was in tears because she had failed to find funding thus far and was afraid that she would be forced back to the marriage and Mwanza. KIWAKKUKI helped her to apply to
Government Schools ($150) and a friend of mine agreed to provide sponsorship. The government decided that since she was from Mwanza, that they would support a government school but only in Mwanza! So, she would have to go back. The girl was desperate and found a school in Moshi Rural The Kiruwa Secondary School. It would be fees of $250 because it is a village operated school and doesn't receive government funding. We managed to pay the fees last year. I had the opportunity to speak to the principal last year, and thought he was a kind man.
I went to the school yesterday. It is bare, but in a beautiful location. The children had gone to a funeral of a teacher. The headmaster was about to leave.
But he sat down to talk to Verynice Monyo (our orphan support leader)
and I asked about Jacinta. He said that she was bright and had showed progress in school. Because he found her so unusual, he had taken her to his own home with his wife and 2 children so that she could be with his girls and learn how to grow up in a "normal" family. For no extra money, he is raising her as if she were his own daughter. He said that he had done this before with younger children, but had not brought someone as old as his own girls to the home. He said she is fitting in very well, and that she isn't quiet anymore, but laughs and talks with his
girls, is very neat and tidy and seems to be happy. He invited us to meet again at the funeral, and we drove up the long windy road to the small corn field and church where the funeral was taking place.
Since we were worried about Jacinta feeling stigma with a "mzungu" arriving at the church, we asked that she be brought to us on the road.
Here was a girl I nearly didn't recognize. She was happy and bright. She had gained weight. She hugged me and Verynice and held the Principal's hand, saying Baba (Daddy) thank you. And then she asked politely to return to the funeral. Even though I have not supported this young girl, but rather my friend, I felt as if I were seeing a miracle. It seems to me that only rarely do have such an opportunity.


Here are pictures of the principal, Verynice and a picture of the school.

Here are pictures of the view from the school and the map of the world on the school building.

The rule of the school.



Can you read this poem?

"Eat more fruit!" the slogans say

"More fish, more beef, more bread!"

But I'm on my unemployment-pay

My third year now, and wed.

And so I wonder when I'll see

The slogan when I pass

The only one that would suit me,

"Eat more bloody grass"

Can you imagine this being the chosen poem to analyse. Yet, when
Chrissy and I looked at poem books, they were all very similar to
this. How sad!



The interesting thing about girls is that they are so different from boys.
And in this culture, learning to be brave seems to be more of a
function of our orphan girls than of the ex pat girls. A tragedy
occurred at ISM last week. My best friend here's horse died
suddenly and sadly. He happened to also be the favorite riding
horse for all the children. Everyone was devestated. Terrie
understood that girls especially have to put their feelings on the
table, and thus, she had a service of remembrance for Moscow. She
made chocolate horses, she brought non-alcoholic champaign and
she invited the girls to bring poems. She brought the groom who
had taken care of Moscow since he had come to the stable. It was
an emotional scene there at the grave. Each girl said something,
they all cried and comforted one another. Terrie played her
saxaphone, and even the groom spoke. Each girl pounded 2 or 3
times the grave marker in to the ground. Their tears over Moscow
were no different than these young girls who are trying to get school
fees, and yet so different. The grief is the same, and felt
deeply. The girls will go on to think about college, most of the
orphans will just try to make it. Mostly, the orphans have no one to comfort them, while these children freely comforted the other. But somehow, it is all the
same.