Archive for April, 2009
They’re back…
Back at Daraja.
[/caption]
Momma hen (Jenni)
It is 10:15 Monday morning and after a three-week break the girls have returned, eagerly diving into Daraja Academy’s second term. As I type a group of five girls are running from their physics lab to English class. Laughing as they go, Mary K., the girl leading the group unknowingly dropped some thing. It must have been small, a pen or pencil, because from my office 20 yards away I missed it… but Lillian didn’t.
Mary K. (we have two Mary’s) and Lillian became very close last term and both blossomed because of the friendship.
Mary’s mom works very hard to provide for a family of kids with no father around, while Lillian’s father was killed in a road accident last October, four years after her mother died from a bad headache (meningitis). Many people become removed and unapproachable after such hardships, but not these two. Their dogged determination to embrace life is truly inspiring. I watched as Lillian slid to a stop, ran back for the item and returned it to her friend. They hugged and like a clip out of a movie, draped their arms over the other’s shoulder and disappeared into the classroom. Honestly, I would be embarrassed to make this stuff up!!!
I am not sure why, but seeing our students in their navy blue and grey Daraja Academy uniforms never gets old for me. Perhaps it’s because I have seen the condition of most of their other cloths or it could be that they seem to walk just a little taller when they wear them.
I had a feeling that the students would be excited upon their return to campus, but I didn’t expect what we got. Huge smiles, bigger hugs, some girls giggled uncontrollably and others cried. Benedicta, our head prefect had a hard time keeping a straight face each time I spoke to her. It got to the point where I actually began to wonder, “is this girl laughing at me? Do I have something in my teeth?” I finally asked her what was going on. Still giggling, with a huge grin, through crinkled up eyebrows she responded as if the answer was plainly obvious, “I’m at Daraja.”
Saturday night, we had a welcome back party. The MS Kenya volunteers were slated to go to Nanyuki town for a night of “20-something-fun” but five opted out when they found out that the girls were returning.
We had a great dinner, listened to music and wrapped up the night by playing, “Skits in a Sack.” First, the students were broken up into five sets of five, with each Danish volunteer then joining a group. Next, each group was given a sack of five mystery items. Andy, Mr. Charles and I had an extremely good time collecting random items for the skits. To give you an example of just how random the items were, one sack held: a paint roller, a baseball mitt, a length of chain, a neck brace and the stringy side of an industrial sized mop. The groups were given 30 minutes to prep their skit, the only two rules being — 1) every member had to speak at least one line and, 2) every item had to serve a purpose in the skit.
Though it would have been fun, we purposely chose not to include teachers and administrators in the skits. When an adult is added to a group of students, even with the best of intentions, that groups dynamic . The Kenyan curriculum is rigorous and often by their teens many students have had the creativity beaten out of them. We are trying to reverse that process. Computers can regurgitate information; leaders have to be able to think creatively.
And creative they were!
I could not believe how great the skits were! They were all hilarious and extremely entertaining. One, mocked the hypocrisies that are witnessed on any given Sunday at church, another was a slapstick adventure showing the arrest of a grandparent-napping witch doctor and her assistant.
I am embarrassed to say that I severely under estimated the girls; I just didn’t think they would be able to do such an incredible job on their first attempts. This is not a mistake I will be making again soon.
After the last skit and another round of hugs, the girls returned to their dorm and curled up in their beds for the first time in 3 weeks. The girls are back, they are a force, and I sincerely cannot wait to see what they are capable of doing once unleashed on the world.
Tags: skits in a sack, Term II
Filed under From the Founder :
Comments (0) :
Apr 28th, 2009
Daraja just ain’t Daraja without her students.
-
- Daraja waiting for her soul…
-
- 1 Maasai, 1 Borana and 1 Dane = 100% Daraja
I am sorry for the lull in the postings, Daraja was busy hosting two of its most important supporters – 2 year old Kaia Raisdana and her assistant Jabiz. It was wonderful and we all miss you both. Next time bring mom.
I hoped that all of the Daraja Academy staff and students would build lasting bonds, but I did not think that it would happen quite so fast. Term I ended and the students returned home for a well-deserved break on April 4th. I can personally testify that this place just is not the same with out them. I miss their laughter, their questions, their genuine excitement about trying new things… I miss their energy.
The wonderful thing is that the rest of the staff, from Peter Wathitu to the night guard miss them as well. Of course, this shouldn’t be a surprise; we always said, “Daraja Academy existed. There were 150 acres with dormitories, classroom blocks, guest houses etc. but that it missed one very important thing… it was missing its soul.”
I am happy to say that the soul will return to campus in 8 days, and just short of counting them with charcoal lines on the wall, we ARE counting them. On the 25th of April they will converge from all parts of Kenya. Trickling in from the hills west of Eldoret on the Ugandan border, from the parched, baobab dotted lands outside Makindu on the Mombasa Highway.
They will come from their homes; some made of tin, others made of cattle dung and thatch, but the will come and they will be coming to Daraja. To Daraja Academy, their second home, and they will be coming with smiles on their beautiful young faces.
If you were in our shoes, what special touch, club, event would you offer the students in Term II to make it both memorable and valuable?
(I know that I ask this often, but this time if you could oblige, the students and I would be for ever grateful: If reading these posts, or simply
Thanks for your support
Tags: Eldoret, jabiz raisdana, Kaia, Makindu, Peter Wahthitu, Term II
Filed under From the Founder :
Comments (7) :
Apr 17th, 2009
Term 1 Reflections
Reflections of our school
Today it happened. The last pencil, for the last test was put down. The last student stood up from her desk, exhaled and pushed her chair to its proper spot. She turned in her test, gave a knowing smile to a nodding teacher and walked out of Term 1. Completed, she took the short path from the classrooms, past the dining hall to her dorm room. Strolling past purple, orange and pink bougainvillea and under darkening thunderheads, some rumbling their personal promise of rain, this Daraja Academy student, like many of her sisters uses her solo walks on campus to reflect…
So many experiences were shuffled into her first term in high school. Just making it INTO secondary school, when it appeared that all hope was lost, arriving after days of traveling to meet girls from all parts of Kenya, girls from 13 to 17 who would become roommates and then friends and some even like sisters. She would reflect on the visitors who came from far away to meet and work with her. How Brenda from Fairfax, California taught her how to see shapes in elephants and how that eventually made sense and made drawing the animals easier. She thought of Julie from San Francisco who had not only worked on Barak Obama’s campaign tour, BUT actually MET his wife Michelle.
Entering her dorm room and dropping the backpack she’d been given when she arrived in February, which now was now bursting with papers, and text books at the foot of her bunk bead she placed her two hands flat on her desk and looked in the mirror. Like every other student on campus it was a day of reflection. She was contemplating everything that she’d done over the past two months. She was amazed how well she did in certain subjects, how much easier it was to learn in smaller classrooms, and was equally disappointed at some of her results. She knew her math grade would come up in term two no matter what!
She thought hard. She was Daraja Academy; far better than she thought she was, and less than she can one day be. She and her 25 classmates are Daraja Academy. Walking through Nanyuki town, boarding buses to Nairobi, Makindu, Kisi and beyond, wearing her light blue and dark grey Daraja Academy uniform she is no longer just Nasibo, no longer is she just faith or Mwikali. She IS the growing, powerful woman AND she is also part of something much bigger, she is part of a family, a sisterhood who cares about her future and love her, not because of the woman she can be, but because of the one she is.
Filed under From the Founder : Comments (1) : Apr 6th, 2009
“for her, Daraja is…”
Daraja is...
They arrived at campus in late February, twenty-six uncomfortable strangers. At the conclusion of term one, those same girls will return home as twenty-six sisters. Though we still have two days of testing ahead, an end of the term party and dinner, as well as many other odds and ends to accomplish, girls have already begun to discuss their departures and in my opinion, nothing has validated this project more than those discussions. Put simply, many of the girls do not want to leave.
I had assumed that there would be an evenly balanced division in most of the students in terms of heading home. I thought there would be close to equal parts, “I can’t wait to go home, sleep in my bed and see my friends and family,” and “I’m sad to leave my new found friends, I am really going to miss them,” in most of Daraja’s students. I was wrong and interestingly, the sentiments have nothing to do with how far from campus home is or whether the girl comes from a “traditional family” (mom, dad, sisters and brothers) or not.
After speaking one-on-one or in small groups with many of the young ladies and talking with both of the dorm matrons, who the girls confide in daily, I have come to a few conclusions as to why they would prefer to stay on campus during the vacation break. They feel like they matter here, and they know what to expect.
Though I have not commented on it many times in this blog, this part of Kenya is experiencing a drought. We watch the clouds every day and pray for rain. The river that used to flow past campus and provided so much of the campus’ water (sinks, toilets, showers, kitchen etc) is dry. We have done many things to reduce water consumption on campus from digging pit latrines behind the girl’s and MS Kenya’s dorms (each time a person flushes 20 liters of water goes with it,) to putting up signs and showing our students the “best way” to wash hands, cloths etc during dry times like these. Frankly, had the Baraka School not dug a borehole ten years ago, we would be in BIG trouble.
Anyhow, today I had a conversation with a girl who comes from Meru, which is located on the wet side of Mt. Kenya. I asked the young lady if she was excited that during break she wouldn’t have to walk for 5 minutes to fetch a bucket of water everyday and she cracked a big, ironic smile. “I won’t have to walk as far for water,” she said, “but you also cannot eat water for breakfast and dinner.” She went on to explain, that while at home she definitely would not be eating like she had been at Daraja Academy. Though the area where this specific student comes from is much greener and is not experiencing drought the way we are, she doesn’t want to leave this weekend, because at its foundation, for her… Daraja is three healthy meals everyday.
One of the students told me that after arriving in February it took her several weeks before she believed that Daraja Academy and all of its supporters wanted her to get a good education, for no reason other than the fact that she deserved it. She could not believe that there were no ulterior motives. By coming to this conclusion, that just being who she was, warranted all that she was receiving, made her want to work harder and experience more. Though I know this specific student has a very close relationship with her mother and sister, she doesn’t want to leave this weekend, because for her… Daraja is here.
Before the first term even began one of the mothers approached me on arrival day. I had met this particular mother while interviewing her daughter at the Turning Point Trust in the Nairobi slum of Kibera. This powerful mom who stands less that 5 feet tall, pulled me aside and half lectured, half begged me to consider allowing the students to only return home for short periods, no more than a week, during each school break. Her eyes actually teared up as she explained that nothing good could happen for her daughter upon returning to Kibera. “Mr. Jason, it is not like Daraja with a fence and nice guards to protect them. If our daughters come home it could be pregnancy, rape, disease or drugs and they will never get this chance again!” Though I know this specific mother adores her daughter she doesn’t want her daughter to leave this weekend, because for her… Daraja is safety and Daraja cares about her daughter’s future.
For different girls Daraja Academy means different things: it is interesting, a better Kenya. Daraja is a challenge; it is friendship, its fun.
Daraja is love, Daraja is, is, is… This school is special and it is so many things to so many people. If it isn’t already, decide what Daraja Academy is to you and then make it more.
The girls will go home this weekend and they will go home for the full 3-week break. We will discuss future breaks and whether all of the girls will be away for the breaks’ entirety. Unfortunately, this break they will be staying away 3 weeks for the wrong reason; due to the state of the international economy we just don’t have the funding to keep them here the whole break.
As a student, as a teacher and now as an administrator I never would have thought that one of Daraja Academy’s bigger problems would be students wanting to STAY at school during break. But, if that is one of our bigger problems… I am very happy to have it.
Thank you.
I would really like to take this time to also thank everybody who planned, attended and took part in the Daraja Academy, Peninsula Event. These are difficult economic times and the fact that you chose to spend your time and money helping young ladies that I see everyday, but you have never met is amazing, humbling and incredibly inspiring. Asante sana!
M
Tags: daraja academy, jason doherty, Kibera, Meru, Peninsula Event, Turning Point Trust
Filed under From the Founder :
Comments (6) :
Apr 1st, 2009
