I am also readying for the naming ceremony of my latest grandchild. I am looking at Shel Silverstein poems to read and I am remembering my own children when they began a new year at school. How privileged they were. Not only did they have entire new wardrobes, but they went to private schools and private universities. Health concerns or food were never even thought of. Their father was a doctor at Man’s Best Hospital, and their mother was a great cook who could go to the store and buy whatever she felt like cooking paying no heed to sales or limits.  

For me, it is trying to get the world I knew to know the world I know now. I just read Bill Gates letter for the Davos Convention. It’s really good (and I don’t like him very much). He has a bully pulpit and tons of money to get his ideas out. I no longer live that other life, and getting people to care about starving children continents away is a challenge. So tonight I think about all my children, the ones that I bore, the ones my daughters bore and all the ones over in Kenya. How do I meld the worlds and make the one that needs it the most a better place for the children who live there?

Here’s the full link to the story:

http://www.un.org/ecosocdev/geninfo/afrec/vol25no4/millennium-villages.html

The blogosphere did indeed go blank from Mama OVAAT for a few weeks. It in no way should reflect the success of the trip. Frankly I’m over the moon over how we are doing. That Sunday, Monica and I went to church and then sat under the trees by Lake Victoria and talked about the way forward. It was a delicious day of friendship and love between 2 kindred spirits who “dream dreams” as Bobby Kennedy would say.

Monday dawned bright and beautiful for our ride back across the Rift. Francis and I drove to KMET for one last visit and thus ensued the “Series of Unfortunate Events”.
Yes fans, I managed to break my leg on the last day, and of course there was no adequate medical care. My fabulous Medical Rescue Card got me nothing and there were no working x-ray machines at Nairobi Hospital. Which was probably ok since I doubt they had a tech anyway.

Determined to get on that plane, we got to the airport, I got a wheel chair and thus began the long, long ride home. 2.5 days travel with an unset broken leg is a bit of a challenge, but I did get home, get it set, and still wound up in the hospital with the creepy crawlies. Then a fall down my stairs a week later got me 16 stitches in my head. That’s what I mean by a series of unfortunate events.

Ok, but here’s the deal. What we are doing in Kenya defies the odds. We are going to run this program for under $30,000. I so want people to know that with the right partners and working with communities to own their programs you can change attitudes and lives. (Y’all know how I feel about the big guys. ) And I can’t wait to get back there.

And the second deal is not to be afraid. Do what your heartsong is. I am 65 years old and I love my work over there. Despite “the series of unfortunate events” I wouldn’t give up one single second of life over there and here. And I wish that more people stepped out of the fear of not being a success, or of getting hurt, or of the unknown, or what people might think and go for it. As my grandmother used to say, “Life is short, eat dessert first”. So go for it with everything you’ve got and believe you can. You’re neither too young or too old, it’s your time. Now get up and do it.

What you say? What happened to the past 10 days? Ok I didn’t come back to the US in one piece, actually it was 3 pieces but that is a different story entirely. I wanted to wrap up the trip for you all.

That Saturday after we had finished visiting all the schools we returned to KMET for a team meeting.. Everyone showed up at 11A on a Saturday to develop the plan for 2012. We covered so many topics. We reviewed the difference between ACK, Nangina and Nina.

We realized that. 1. We had to develop criteria to see trends of when a school is failing before it gets to the level of ACK.
2. We noted that when I was the man behind the curtain the community immediately looked to each other instead of the muzungu
3. We realized that starting fresh meant there were no rumors of untold wealth and goodies and that we would struggle with that in Nambale
4. We all agreed that Nina is our new shining star and it holds so many hopes. For me it will hold my heart and I will be so glad to get back there

Then we set up a budget. First what needed to be done and a realistic number for what it would cost.

We needed to cost share the feeding programs in the 3 schools. We knew that it costs $1.80 per term for each child. Now OVAAT will get a list of the children and will base the donation on a realistic number. Further, after the first term, if ACK is not at 50% their feeding program will be dropped. And further to instill in the other schools that this is their program, the second term we will drop down from 50%-40% subsidy.

Our girls need sanitary towels to stay in school. For $400 per term ( 3 terms to the year) we can keep hundreds of girls in school by supplying them. Pretty cool huh?

We need to keep the community involved. We need the PICD team to visit each school each month to help the community develop a plan of action and a budget so that in 2 years they can take over the feeding program. The team not only teaches community development, but we have a nutritionist and a nurse as part of that team. The cost per term $1200.

Just before I sat down to write this wrap up I saw an add for “Save the Children” which shows you a tragic child in horrific conditions. Trust me these kids and these villages exist. But they’re not getting the community involved. They’re not teaching the community how to feed their children, how to work together and own the problem and thus, it seems to me they will be there forever. My goal for One Village at a Time has always been to go out of business. If we do our job right the community takes over, they are empowered, and everyone wins.

So for less than $5000 per term or $1500 per year we can change the attitudes of the people, make them self-sufficient and they can feed their kids. I call this a spectacular trip.

Keep the faith y’all

Wash it away please

I am back at the Blue York after a day in the field. The torrents of rain are hurtling against the roof and windows, and of course there is no power now. It was not a good day. I am frustrated and disappointed by Nambale ACK .

It didn’t start well and went down hill rather rapidly. Last year when we started there were throngs of people. There were people from the town and the district who didn’t have kids in that school. I met with resounding endorsement for the idea of the feeding program. And by resounding I mean over 1000 people were clapping and enthusiastic for it to begin. Feed just the lower grades? No they wanted to feed all the grades and they were going to do it.

It is now 1 year later. There were less than 60 parents there. The feeding program which was to be shared by the community, is in the toilet. I found out today that they are only feeding the ECD (early childhood development) class. They are the only parents that are still contributing. Blank stares and innui looked out at me. When I asked them if they knew that our money was leaving in a year, they looked shocked. Now folks, I know, and KMET sat on the same stage telling them this is how the program works. But see a muzungu face (white girl) and it’s donor time. I was beyond tired and angry, but you can’t show those things to the villagers; it would have to wait until we had team meeting at night. I sat numbly through the rest of the meeting, sometimes I slipped on my headphones so I could leave without leaving.

Monica and her team did their thing, but by the end even Monica was angry and said if they didn’t participate she had other places to go. Funny that was my feeling, but I’m glad she said it. The community responded that they were going to make it compulsory that every parent contribute their share. I’ll be waiting to see.

So here I am 10 years later, wondering if it can be done. Can a small non-profit partner with an NGO and get a community to take care of their children? Micro-finance surely works, but getting a community to come together to feed their children, with all the support that they are getting…Nambale ACK was a real slap in the face, and Manyole was a chasm that OVAAT will not put more money into.

My hope lies with the 2 new schools. Can the new approach of PICD work? I need to see the schools, surely, but perhaps tomorrow I won’t tell them where I am from or what I am doing there. Maybe I shall just be a consultant, so that they don’t see an unending source of money. We’ll talk about it in team meeting.

As for me today, I am tired of the rain, the mud, the lack of power, the lack of connection to the outside world, ha no connection to the outside world. Maybe that’s the key. If you don’t know what is going on outside then you see yourselves as victims, you are passive, you wait. Only when you think you are part of a future, part of a plan might you decide to change your attitude. Perhaps; but as for me, now, it’s time for another cold wash from the spigot and creepy food.

http://youtu.be/K0GWqLF6xl4  (In My Room)

I’m gonna keep the faith y’all. Will you join me?

I So Dirty My Dirt is Covered in Dirt

Yeah and I’m a crispy critter too. So much for SPF 30, there’s no fighting the Kenyan sun. You only have to be out in it 15 minutes to fry, so I will be a dermatological dream again.

I am constantly telling my clients that they must surrender ego, that it is always up to the universe to make things happen. Old ego and I had a real smack down today. We were supposed to get to Malanga at 11A, then it was changed to noon, but we didn’t get there until 2P. That made me crazy since I, of course, was on time. But it turns out the KMET van broke down, Monica didn’t really know her way and wasn’t traveling with us and well it’s Kenya. By the tie we got there folks had been sitting waiting since 8A. And to make things worse the headteacher, Maloba, had told the new school we would be there by 11A. So we were pissing people off all over the place. We had to apologize at Malanga, then we had to split up so some of us could go and placate the new schools while the others worked out the exit plan at Malanga. Suffice it to say ego did not like where this was heading. Ego likes things organized, ego anticipates problems and leaves time for them, and ego was really snarky.
I went to the new school ,Nangina. By that time it was 3P and they had been waiting 6 hours. I felt terrible and apologized as best I could but they were still not having it.
So I got Francis to go to the car and get a bag of sweets that I always carry for the kids. In this case I needed to sweeten the mood of the parents and passed out the lollipops. I had to make a joke of it and they seemed a bit better.

But you know you’re in trouble when there are no speeches and few introductions. And the dancing girls were no where to be seen. The KMET team was first up and gave their schpiele for the first 30 minutes. We covered micro-finance, nutrition and partnership. We were missing a lot of the team cuz they were back at Malanga.

And then it was Mama OVAAT time. And something miraculous happened, it wasn’t’ about me anymore. It was about them. It was about building a team, a partnership. It was about telling them how much I believed in them and that with a little push they could make it on their own. I asked them if they would join our team, team Nangina and they said YES!! And then the old cheerleader or preacher in me broke out and I got them chanting yes we can and passed out faith bracelets to everyone of them so they could identify as members of the team and they were united and it was glorious and it was all about God not that dirty little ego. It was truly amazing grace.

We broke for a quick lunch (which I always avoid). I’ve gotten so good at it I take out my diabetic kit and prick my finger at the table, then shake my head and say sorry the number is not right for me to eat that. (trust me I don’t care whether it’s 80 or 180 it’s “never right”). So after a few handfuls of rice I want to see the children. The children breathe life back into me as surely as water lifts a marathon runner. Maybe it is runner’s high.

We finished at 5P and went to the lovely Blue York. Dinner and review of the day followed by no internet and very little electricity. No matter, since I’m so dirty I’m totally ok with washing with cold water. I didn’t have a choice really,
What always continues to amaze me is the teamwork that happens with the KMET crew. As I reflect on the day, and I see how they work as a team, reflect on the good and the bad and plan the next day I know I am with a group of remarkable people. Everyone is equal and respected and while sometimes it is not the most efficient process, their staff is dedicated, inventive, and a delight to work with.

So I end the night in grace and for that I am grateful. I’ll post this when I can.
Keep the faith y’all

Today we drive the Great Rift Valley. I don’t remember when exactly I started driving the Rift instead of flying. Probably when I smartened up and realized that a. it was much cheaper and b. it brings me to my heart home as I travel the different climes that are the Rift. First we hit a crest and look down on the long fertile valley, then we pass through miles of tea and coffee plantations, and then into the orange roads that signal the small towns teeming with people, farm animals roaming the streets and mounds and mounds of produce. Potatoes stacked in pyramids, onions, tomatoes. As we move further on we get to the villagers carrying great stalks of banannas and finally pineapples. Poverty abounds, naked children playing in the dirt, tall regal women with huge loads of sticks or water in jerry cans atop their heads, and everyone is walking by the side of the road.

Once in a while we see a private car like our own. But mostly it is the lorries and crazy matatu drivers (these are Toyota fans which are supposed to seat 9 but are often crammed with as many as 20 in them). The matatus are usually the culprits in the horrendous vehicle deaths that run rampant on the roads. A couple of weeks ago 25 people were killed because a Matatu tried to outrun a lorry and didn’t make it. I used to drive in those when I first started here; but even I gave up as they were so incredibly dangerous. Sometimes you see a boda boda (bike carrying someone for money). Life can be very cheap here and it is taken for granted that road deaths occur regularly. I don’t ride boda bodas either.

I am anxious to get going. Francis shall be here fairly soon given the traffic and what he has to attend to at home. I will film some of the Rift and post it for you.

rift click to see the film

I have officially been spooked by the security. I have checked out and had 3 bags. I left my black briefcase on the couch in the lobby while I went to the loo. It was scooped up immediately. Then,I got questioned by the guard as to whether it was mine. And since Francis is late, I decided to go to the ATM to get some cash. Again, I was questioned by 2 guards about my walkabout. And then another at the bank and then I was frisked to get back into the hotel. Yeah, who says they’re not worried?

Catch you in Kisumu

It was a glorious though bumpy ride to Kisumu. I have attached some un-edited film of our ride. We go from the very arid rift where the Masaii tend their cattle to the vast tea plantations in the valley and along the way meet some interesting fauna.

monkey click to see my new friend

I am glad to be back. Exhausted, the ride takes 6.5 hours, and it’s really hard on the back, but pain killers are a wonderful thing. Monica and I met for dinner and have mapped out the rest of the week. I am excited by the new steps they are taking to join resources with us and get more schools up and running in a year. Tomorrow I’ll see a proto-type, but the partnership between Monica and I is truly one the masters had in mind.

It is thundering like mad outside. I pray we don’t lose electricity until all my cameras, phones, and computer are tanked. Francis is going to do some serious filming tomorrow. I hope to bring you Monica tomorrow night if even in the un-edited version. Her words will speak for themselves.

And now dear campers, I’m going to read while I still have some light before we lose power. It’s a matter of an hour or so.

Keep the faith y’all
rift

As a child growing up in the privileged suburbs of Chicago, my father, a DA at the time, often took me to court. I went to my first rape trial when I was 9. And rape trials back in the 50’s were rare indeed. However it surely raised my understanding of the awful things that could befall a woman. Woman the world round are aware of the possibility of rape everywhere they go. And rape is not a sexual thing, it is a domination of man over women or, in this case, over whole families.

I have been following the trials of the Ocampo 6. They include the Vice President of Kenya and several other high ranking Government officials. And they are all thugs. As I have read of the horrors of the killings, and have lived the results of both the killings and the burnings, I felt the horror. I knew the horror. But today as I read the Nation a whole new outrage rolled over me, taking me a minute to actually catch my breath.

It seems that hordes of gangs were hired to go into the Kibera and Muthare and rape the women in front of their families. The purpose was both intimidation of the tribes and ultimate humiliation. No man wants to see his wife raped, and it is even worse in tribal Africa because a tribe’s domination over another can be achieved through this very act. Always it is the women who are sacrificed to achieve the goal. And it is women who pay the price. In this case thousands of husbands walked away from their wives because the woman had been raped. And who can say how many women were left infected by HIV? That wasn’t even part of the article.

As I sit listening to the fountain gentle trickle water over the rocks, plentiful food in my fridge and a toilet ten feet away from me, I keep wondering why. I am a woman of God, and I have espoused always that God has a plan. But today I just have to ask Him Why?

For the full article: http://www.nation.co.ke/News/politics/The+horror+of+rapes+in+post+election+slum+life+laid+bare/-/1064/1241926/-/mym333z/-/index.html

Why does starvation continue in certain parts of Africa? Today’s Nation had an excellent article on the 12 reasons famine continues in Kenya and I am just compelled to share it with you here. A couple things he points out were especially cogent including the fact that Kenyans don’t make food production a  priority and that they are still mostly growing food for export instead of for themselves. While economically some might argue that they need the exports, however the vast tracts of land that are used for tea and coffee rest in the hands of very few people and mostly white folks who reap the benefits.

So here is the article.

Twelve reasons for the hunger that stalks Kenya, and why it’s persistent

By KOIGI wa WAMWERE

Posted  Wednesday, August 10  2011 at  17:40

When death by starvation stares four million Kenyans in the face, we must ask why. In my view, there are 12 reasons for our hunger.

The first reason for this and other hungers is that Kenyans don’t consider food the number one national need or hunger the number one national enemy.Without food, no country can have life or security. As long as leaders and the rich have their imported food, nourishment for the common people does not matter.

The second reason is that Kenyan leaders have no soul that urges them to feed the poor.Unlike Jesus, our leaders and industrialists don’t feed the multitudes that attend their public meetings or workers who toil for them.

The third reason is that Kenyans don’t engage in modern agriculture.As former Cuban leader Fidel Castro argued, if Jesus employed a miracle to feed the people, leaders and governments should use the miracles of modern farming to feed the people.Today, our people starve because our agriculture is not modern enough to produce enough food for all.

The fourth reason is that Kenyans still pursue colonial agriculture that produces flowers, pyrethrum, coffee and tea for European societies and industries, instead of keeping poultry and cattle and growing maize, beans, potatoes, wheat and other foods for their consumption. Agriculture for raw materials and profit cannot eradicate hunger.

The fifth reason is failure to observe faithfully the Biblical Joseph’s philosophy of saving food in good seasons to feed people in seasons of drought.If only leaders could save food surpluses in good times, drought would never lead to hunger and death.Nor should people in drought-stricken areas starve when food is rotting in other areas for lack of market.

The sixth reason is bad leadership. As the proverb says, when the leader limps, the herd does not reach the pasture.Hunger in Kenya is neither from God nor from Satan. It is from our limping leaders who should vacate power to end starvation.

The seventh reason is President Kibaki’s refusal to sign the Essential Commodities’ Price Control Bill.                  At a time when a long drought has killed animals and rendered millions too poor to buy food, a caring government would have reduced the prices of food and kept them low.

Others shed crocodile tears when they decry hunger, but oppose controls for food commodities.

The eighth reason is corruption. Strategic maize reserves have been secretly exported and relief food stolen.

On July 8, it was reported that Sh362 million meant for drought had been stolen.On July 30, the minister for Water was challenged to explain the disappearance of Sh21 billion meant for irrigation.Then Sh1.9 billion for drought relief was consequently withdrawn by the World Bank and European Union.

When the government steals its own money meant to alleviate drought conditions, then goes begging for aid to fight hunger, it is like the boy who killed his parents, and then asked people to assist him because he was an orphan.

The ninth reason is our misuse of food. In our country, there are people who throw away more food than they eat.

There are people who have billions of shillings in their bank accounts when others cannot afford Sh150 to buy maize-flour.Those who throw away food cannot be depended upon to end hunger.

The tenth reason is that in the midst of starvation, millions of acres are hoarded by some people, while millions of people have nowhere to grow food or build shelter. Leaders who hoard land are friends of hunger.

The eleventh reason is people’s poverty. Poor people cannot import food, buy it from stores or buy implements for modern farming.

The final reason is the destruction of forests leading to loss of the rain we need for sustainable agriculture.