I write this on Thanksgiving morning as I fly from Vermont to Boulder for a celebration with our children. I’ve never been to Colorado and I am so looking forward to taking it all in, while most importantly celebrating the gratitude I have for our family.
While I am obviously grateful for the many gifts I have (of which I count frequently in a Gratitude Journal I carry in my purse), never in my wildest dreams could I have predicted the source of one of my biggest joys to date. For this year, not only am I grateful for all of you, those who have followed my dream on this wonderful needlepoint journey….but also those who have followed the journey across the globe to Africa with me.
Last June I attended the annual Spring Fling event for the Kenya Drylands Education Fund AKA KDEF (pronounced Kay-Def). Although I have a been a big admirer of the organization since meeting my dear and remarkable friend Sarah Hadden, I seemed to be one of the few in our town who had not yet met Ahmed Kura. I knew many people who knew Kura, as he is called, and spoke so highly of him but I had yet to have the opportunity to meet him myself. Don and I had already signed up to join the nine day KDEF Safari trip planned for October. I was anxious to meet the man who would introduce us to his country I had heard so much about. Like all great meetings, I had no idea the joyful turn this introduction would take.
During the luncheon event Kura addressed the crowd and spoke about his experience growing up in the very rural part of Northern Kenya known as Korr. For fear of butchering the factual and inspiring story I will give you the very brief gist. After a parental death and a remarriage custom, Kura, the youngest of a very large family, found himself as a child without a home or parental support. Growing up in Northern Kenya, in a pastoral community Kura was unable to attend school beyond the government-run free elementary school. I have since learned from our mutual friend Sarah that Kura was absolutely devastated that he didn’t have the fees to attend secondary school and that he at one point tried to sneak into the private high school classes to learn anyway. Sadly, the school administrators would not let him stay without paying the school fees. Pause here please, and imagine a 9th grade boy in rural Kenya trying to sneak into a cinderblock classroom to learn and being told to leave. How devastating that must have been! Long story short, an older more established in-law eventually found Kura an American sponsor, a professor from Georgetown University, who paid Kura’s high school fees. This man Kura is very wise, speaks more languages than you can count on one hand, and has world class social skills. He could easily have a very lucrative career anywhere in the world. What he has done instead is dedicate his life to his people, to help create an organization in his homeland which supports education for those in need, provides mentor programs to ensure student success, and delivers feminine hygiene products for school girls so they don’t miss any days and can reach their maximum potential without marrying at a very young age. That day in June when I met Kura, he was in Vermont telling a very interested group about these fabulous initiatives. His whole career is about making life better for his people. This ADD luncheon guest was distracted, I got sidetracked by a detail in the presentation. Did someone say something about clean drinking water? Was there a need? Do they not have clean drinking water in Northern Kenya? Was there a drought? What was that little snippet I just heard? Who needs water?
A few days later during a dinner party I asked Kura what the water situation was like in the North and “How much does a truck load of water cost in Africa?” I learned that a truck load of water costs $350.
As I mulled over what to do with this information I learned that Kura had returned to Kenya to discover that Marsabit County in the Northern Drylands was in dire straights. There was no water and the pastoralists were in severe medical danger. Lives were in jeopardy. Women and children were walking 10 kilometers to get drinking water. Children, pregnant and nursing mothers, and the elderly were the most vulnerable.
I offered to help, Sarah Hadden and Kura, the co-directors of KDEF decided that in order to do their wonderful work, their recipients and their communities needed water. I started blabbing all over about this, on Instagram, on Facebook, and through email, I blabbed about the water crisis to anyone who would listen. We also planned a party at our home in Vermont where we could raise awareness and some funds. This was not an organized effort, there was no Go-Fund Me, there were no publications, nor a formal ask, it was just word of mouth by the town crier. Do you remember that scene in the first Harry Potter movie where the Dursleys were trying to keep Harry from getting his invitation from Hogwarts and the wizards send thousands of them into the house? We had some serious Harry Potter Owl Post magic happening too. Checks started coming. And coming. And coming. They came from old friends, new friends, instagram friends, friends of friends. Needlepoint shops collected and sent funds. Checks came from a little island in the Gulf of Mexico, and from all over Vermont. People just kept handing me checks, mailing checks, and contributing online. Every one of our family members jumped in. EVERYONE WANTED TO HELP!! I am seriously tearful after typing that sentence. I can not thank you all enough. As friends and family in America shared their resources and Sarah was managing the influx, Kura was driving all over Northern Kenya evaluating the drought situation. The farther he got into the more rural areas, he was finding village after village in deep despair. As fast as KDEF was finding need, money was flowing. I would tearfully send Kura messages that simply said “I found you some more water”. Sarah Hadden and I frequently looked at each other in shock and with tears in our eyes. Water started flowing immediately when the first checks arrived. 100 percent of the over $22,000 raised went directly to water in Marsabit County. In most villages it was water truck deliveries, a temporary solution until the rainy season came. In two villages water wells or catchments were repaired so that those villages had a permanent solution. In both cases, local workers were hired for the repairs to keep the money in the community where the water was needed.
In October Don and I joined seven other Vermont friends on a trip to Kenya. There is no question the highlight of my trip was visiting all the villages you provided water for. In village after village, the community came out to greet us. There was dancing and singing which brought me to tears every single time. Village elders spoke to us in ceremonial celebrations sharing their deepest gratitude to all of you who sent the water to their desperate villages. In one village a local Kenyan Government official came to pay his respects. In that same village the Chief said “The world has forgotten us but you did not.” Each village happily allowed me to take photos knowing they were being shared with the amazing people who sent them water. I had the most wonderful conversation with the driver of the water truck. I thanked him profusely for the many, many hours each week he left his family and drove around the drought area delivering water. He thanked us all in return, he said he had the best job in the world. I also spoke with the mason who spearheaded the well and water catchment system, he too felt it was a honor to join this team providing drinking water.
Thank you one and all for your generous donations. Fifteen thousand people got water for five months, two villages have long term solutions. Many lives were saved. The people of Marsabit County thank you!! I am just lucky enough to be the messenger.
