Relaxing on a plastic chair in the sandy yard in the cool
dark air under the stars, amongst the washing on a line strung between a
towering palm tree and sturdy post, I’m watching the goat make his regular raid
on the rubbish pit and reflecting on my hectic day.
It was a miraculous loaves and fishes scenario. Early this
morning Elisabeth helps me divide up the bags of resources I lugged from home
between the needy Asi-Daahey school and the even more desperately deprived
beach camp school at Maranatha.
The excited toddlers come charging with dazzling toothy
smiles, cheering and dancing, recognising the new recruits from yesterday.
First stop the nursery where I tear out pages from my one
cheap little colouring book, giving a single sheet to each child and sharing a
packet of felt-tipped pens and crayons.
It is sheer delight to watch the children scribble earnestly
then bring their works of art to Madame Christine for a sticker. Flavia and
Beth and some older schoolgirls are supervising and breaking up squabbles.
After an hour, the toddlers are worn out and curl up on their mats for a rest!
I give some pens and resources to Madame Christine who is
warming to me and posing for photos surrounded by the children. The 13-year-old
girls move in on the bag of resources and choose two pens each, some greeting
cards, a few stickers and writing pads and they are beaming with their booty.
They want to try out their new pens so I get them to write
an essay about themselves and their ambitions; a journalist, a model and a
doctor. A group of other young teens politely approach and ask for pens.
The Grade One teacher hears what’s going on and comes to
lobby me! I admire her confident style so leave the sleepy toddlers and visit
her classroom. Mavis is team teaching with the lovely Georgina I met yesterday
and I take a shine to the two elegant women and decide on the spot that their class
will be the recipient of the new exercise books. I cant give resources to every
class so I figure I have to choose just one.
Each child sits up straight and the teachers hand out the
new books and neatly write their names on them and divide up the colouring pens
and they launch with rapt concentration into their drawings. I have never
before witnessed such a love of learning and appreciation for such small gifts.
I give Georgina and Mavis packets of chalk and crayons, a
stylish tin full of good stuff like a stapler, sticky tape, scissors,
highlighters; the stationery we in the rich part of the world take for granted
and finally a bulging green pencil case. The young teachers are clearly elated.
A few simple resources will make their jobs a little easier.
Some cynics might say these handouts are just tokens and
even ego trips for do-gooders, but it is not an ideal world and truth is, the
school is massively under-resourced and relies on these haphazard donations
from volunteers to provide a few extras.
By now the big kids have heard pens and note books are on
offer and suddenly I’m mobbed by forceful teenagers snatching stuff out of my
hands.
I can’t blame them. As a stationery lover, I can’t imagine
how frustrated I’d be if deprived of pens and paper to write on.
I am frazzled but chuffed that my few meagre resources
stretched so far and wish I could bring more. In the afternoon I head off to
find a tro tro with Krystel, an Aussie girl from Melbourne whose parents are
from Mauritius. Only 18, she signed on as a volunteer straight after high
school. A gutsy young woman, she was so determined to overcome her parents’
objections, she chose volunteering in Africa over her first car! Krystel is
working at the Asi-Daahey school for two solid months. I am exhausted after
just two days so I admire her commitment and stamina!
We make our way on foot to the quirky little internet café
at the end of the main street, strolling past the weird and wonderful
assortment of market stalls. I send, very slowly, a few emails, on a dodgy
computer, and catch up with facebook but I can’t upload my blog posts without
Fi Wi. After two hours I wander off but manage to get lost and two courteous
men in business clothes escort me back to the MAD House chatting about their jobs
and families and asking about life in London.
I go in search of food again at the little stalls, ever
hopeful of finding something nutritious, and buy a large squash and cook some
craved-for veg and pasta for the household to add to the chips and sausage that
our cook, sweet-natured Gifty has made.
Local man Steven is boarding in the MAD house and he’s off
to a church meeting so when he returns I give him a massive plate of pasta and
squash and make a corny pun about him training as a pastor and eating pasta!
Yeah Ha! Ha! Very funny!
I am the last one to bed tonight, still plugging away at my
keyboard while the youngies head for their bunks but Sam is still cracking
jokes and causing hoots of laughter from the sleepy volunteers. They are
wonderful young adults who talk fondly about their families, as they boldly
step out into the world. They are having adventures they’ll never forget while
making a difference to the lives of children here in remote Ada Foah.
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