Surprises, surprises

Finally, my colleague got the call that the people were ready for my surprise, so his family ushered me through the village to a dingy, dark room already filled to capacity with people sitting around the perimeter on chairs, in the middle of the room on the floor and peering in through the door. I was given a chair at the head of the room and introduced by my colleague to the group.

I found that I was sitting in the office of a CBO (community based organization) that was founded by members of the village to help with the orphans in the community. Many parents have died from HIV-AIDS, leaving hundreds of children without food, clothing or homes. These people who run the organization are also very poor, but manage to scrape together any extra money they can and donate it to the organization, which then buys food and clothing for the orphans and empowers youth in the community to educate the population on HIV-AIDS.

The CBO workers and youth helpers

Let me say that again: These people who have next to nothing are giving what very little they have to help those who truly have nothing. The generosity, the caring, the compassion in that room was practically tangible.

They run the organization on the equivalent of $600 a year, doing as much as they can with what little they have. They have a program strategy and officers and weekly meetings in their rented office (which consumes nearly half of their annual budget), so they take running this CBO very seriously. I wanted to do something right then and there. Go to the ATM and give the Treasurer a fistful of cash? Anything!

After the youth put on a play for me that they give in schools to teach children about the importance of education and HIV-AIDS prevention, the leader of the group stood and faced me with a request: Tell our story in America. Ask other NGOs to please help us. Tell everyone in America. We have so many orphans and so many people are still dying from HIV-AIDS. Please. Their plea was so genuine that I found myself telling them to let me know what they needed, that I couldn’t make any promises but I could try and find some small way to help in America. My mind was already racing with ideas of how I could help. We’re trying to save money for a house so I can’t just empty my bank account but maybe I could gather a ton of children’s clothes and send them here for the orphans?

Youth putting on a short skit about education

Before I left, they presented me with a gift. It was wrapped in shiny Christmas paper, with the words “WELCOME STEPHANIE TO KAYISADE” printed in neat block letters on a piece of paper taped to the top. I was completely taken aback. These people who have nothing, who don’t know who I am except that I work with their neighbor and am from America, somehow pulled together enough money to buy me a lovely carved wooden plaque of Africa as a gift for simply giving them an hour of my time. It was almost more than I could bear without tears.

My lovely gift from KAYISADE. I’m so happy here I gave myself a double chin!

I shook hands with everyone before I left, promising to be in touch through my colleague and pledging that I would do whatever I could when I returned to the States. I’m going to keep that promise. Even if the most I can do is send a shipment of second-hand clothes to the orphans, I will keep my promise.