From the States: Retrospective Thoughts on Kibera
I sit in Northfield, MN, USA, a month into my new job as an Admissions Counselor at Carleton College, with Kibera not far from my mind. (If you haven’t seen my pictures from Kibera, definitely check them out.) Upon leaving, I vowed to sponsor two children, which costs a total of about $300USD/year, about $150 per child per year. I sent my first payment the other day and I learned the children are in school and happy. (If you are interested in sponsoring a child from St. Catherine, please email me at peter.varnum@gmail.com and I will let you know how it works.)
One of the girls I am sponsoring, Sophia, is finishing up her final term in Class 6. One of the brighter kids, she’s been in a tumultuous position at home, living with her aunt, her aunt’s boyfriend, and their children. Her caretakers don’t take great care of her, and she’s endured much more than just lack of support for her educational pursuits. But, as “Bill” – who told me to use his real name, Tom (“Truman” is actually Reagan) – has told me, the abuse has stopped and Sophia is happier than ever.
My two most emotive moments in Kibera were in the company of Sophia. Once, for the worse, she and the rest of the class were struck with a stick in class for an unknown reason. Though not my first time witnessing such punishment, I was still affected by it. I was on the stairs outside the classroom peaking in through a slit in the concrete ceiling, and after Sophia was hit three times, her wide, white eyes turned and met mine. There was a combination of embarrassment and fear in them, as if I would be disappointed that she had done something to merit the caning, and my heart broke right then.
For the better, though, her eyes brightened and sparkled when I later told her I planned on sponsoring her, mending my heart a bit and making me feel useful.
Maybe it was enough then; it isn’t now. I feel confident about the direction St. Catherine is heading, and I think I can truly help them on their path to self-sustainability. But it’s a process, and it’s slow right now. I have a fundraising goal of $25,000, and I have an anonymous donor who will match anything up to that. (Soon, the means to begin collecting money will become available, and I will start soliciting donations. Many of you have been generous in offering to donate; just sit tight a little longer and I will make it known how to contribute.)
But I’m antsy. As I adjust to life in a new place, with new people and challenges and adventures, I can’t help but let my mind wander, back across this continent and another with an ocean in between, to the people of Kibera. I plan on going back next summer, and it really can’t come soon enough.
