Village roads & Stolen dreams

Well, as usual, a lot has happened since the last time I wrote. Whenever I come to write a blog, I am amazed by just how busy I am here...hence the reason why I write these long blogs so sparingly! The amazing thing is, although I get tired, I always wake up rejuvenated and ready to go again...and I never regret any of the work that I did which MADE me tired, even if it is just walking 6 miles a day to go visit all the friends I have in Kabala. So since it's been a long time since I last wrote, I'd better start at the beginning.

About 2 weeks ago I got the oppurtunity to go to a small village called Momorimariya (say that three times fast) to help with a community leadership workshop CES was putting on there. Despite the fact that I was destroyed by mosquito bites, it was a really amazing experience. The village had a population of less than 1000, one small, badly kept primary school, and nothing besides that. In most of the small villages around Kabala, Krio (the main langauge that most people in Sierra Leone speak) is not spoken at all. Only the tribal languages exist in the village, usually because the elders and the adults never went to school or went far out of the village, so they don't have much use for Krio. This was an interesting obstacle for me, since I had just adjusted to understanding all that goes on around me, now that I can hear and speak Krio - but Koronco, the native language in this village, I only speak about three words in. So nevertheless, I wasn't able to have incredibly deep conversations with the people in the village. However, I found the workshop incredible...Foray, one of the CES workers, explained to me in Krio what was happening (since the workshop was held in Koronco) and I really was amazed at how much I could observe about what was going on just from the body language and the tone the people spoke in. One really amazing moment in the workshop was when the people were asked about the bad things in their community they wanted to get rid of, the good things in their community they liked, and the things they wanted to see in their community in 5 years. It was so encouraging to hear Foray explain to me that the people wanted to see better education, less teenage pregnancies, more respect, and a better future for their children. Those are the answers every NGO hopes to promote, but it's amazing to hear those answers coming directly from the people.

Once I got back to Kabala, I continued with my prison ministry and my youth ministry, which have both remained a constant encouragement to me. It's so amazing to realize that something so small can make such a big difference. This whole week, I have also been doing testing at CRC, to see what the kid's reading and writing levels are. It's been really encouraging to see the majority of them doing well - and I can assume it will only be more encouraging after I go to other schools where the class sizes are past 100 kids in one room. The results are a reminder not only of the good work this school is doing, but also the work that still needs to be done - after all, if there are still kids in a class of 25 who don't know how to read or write, imagine what it would be like in a class of 100, with a teacher who isn't qualified. More than anything, I want to see the kids of this town succeed, and I want to see them BELIEVE in themselves. So many kids feel like they aren't clever enough, like they aren't good enough...which really breaks my heart. A circumstance where this was really apparent this week was about 2 days ago, when I was teaching my little brother how to read. He's been in school for an entire year now, yet he still has no idea how to read, or even what the letters sound like. I started tutoring him recently to try and help him out, but he is a very emotional kid (as most 6 year olds are). We got through the alphabet okay, but once we came to trying to say a word, he got frustrated because he couldn't do it. Add on top of that the teasing of his older siblings, and we had an emotional breakdown on our hands. Now, my little brother cries nearly every day for one reason or another, so this wasn't a huge deal when he burst into tears. I followed him out on the balcony and tried to console him, telling him "Osh ya" (Sorry in Krio) and that he was clever, he could learn, and it was always hard at the start. Once his tears had resided a little, he said something that brought tears to my own eyes. I told him not to listen to what his siblings were saying, but he shook his head and said,
'Ah no clever. Ah no get sense. Ah no able fo learn...'
Which basically means...I'm stupid...I can't learn...I'm not smart enough. It was so heartbreaking to hear those words come out of a child's mouth...especially my dear little brothers. Realistically, sure, it was a 6 year old tantrum...the next morning he was all smiles and laughs again. But for me, that really hit home, not just for him, but for so many kids in this country. They've been told they're not good enough, they've been put in situations where it's nearly impossible to learn, and then when they don't succeed, they feel like they're stupid. This breaks my heart so completely...every child is SO precious, is SO talented, and has such a contribution to bring to the world...regardless of their reading level. This situation with my brother was really a reminder that QUALITY education is what this country needs, more than anything. And really, we need to believe in each other...to support each other. We need to make everyone feel like they are valuable and have something to offer. After all, if we can't do that, we're really forgetting God's most important command...'Love your neighbour as yourself'. It doesn't matter if your neighbour is black, white, 6 years old, or 100 years old...they deserve to be treated with love and respect, and encouraged so that they realize they not only CAN make a difference in this world, but they ARE the difference the world needs.

With love from Kabala town,

Krissi