Quality Education for All

“The nurse looked at my sister and asked; “Where are your      parents?” “At the shamba” She answered. “Can you tell them to come to the hospital tomorrow?” the nurse added. My sister had to explain how our family functions: “Dad works at around 150km from here and mom at around 60km, both in the forest where only feet and a bike can go. We use letters to communicate and it takes at least a month to send a letter and receive feedback. I wrote to them two days ago about his illness”. I could see the pain in my sister’s and the nurse’s eyes and I could not understand why. For me, it was normal to be malnourished, to have malaria. Jiggers in my toes were no longer painful. I was 9 years old but I looked like a 6 year old, I could believe what the nurse said because of my weight. I was in class 4 but had to spend so many days at home because of illnesses.  The following years, we fled the city because of war and found refuge in the forest. We were so many families; some of the parents were teachers. They started a school in shanties and admitted all the IDP’s children. I joined class 5. We were 11 in our class. Those who were younger did not survive malaria, which was a pandemic in the region. Those of us who survived several malaria crises suffered also the consequences of water born diseases. If diarrhea could leave signs at its passage, my arse would have uncountable tattoos. I do not consider it as a story but as part of my life with non-reversible consequences. I remember it whenever I make some grammatical mistakes. Every new skill I learn reveals gaps that were to be covered in primary school. How I wish I had the magical power to unlearn every bad reflex I developed.

Unfortunately, 20 years later, children in conflict zones are still going through all this and I wonder how their future will look like. Think about those children. One may become the president of this country tomorrow. The one who may not have the chance to prosper because of poor skills may end up becoming a terrorist and pour all the anger on your well-educated grandchildren. Quality education for all is the best investments in sustainable peace and development.”

My statement was about to end. Men and women in the hall were on their feet. Some were tearing, I also cried when I saw their reaction but felt a sense of relief when they promised to fund the project. They invited me for dinner in the VIP lounge. I sat by a man who told me he was ready to adopt five of the children, especially boys and send them to the best school in his country. “Unfortunately we do not give children up for adoption, we just help them access quality education while in their family of origin”; I explained. He regretted and told me something I was not expecting: “I wish I had a son who could make me proud. I have three children, all girls. The idea of seeing them going with a useless man after I have invested in their education saddens me. I am giving them the basic education, in ordinary schools. I do not care if they do not go to university. They will get married anyway and in my culture, once married that is it. They don’t need astrology to make kids for someone I didn’t know in the first place”.

My opinion did not count for his neighbor who asked the man to give him one of the girls: “I wish I had girls. Unfortunately, I have two boys only. My first-born might be 19 now but I do not know where he is. My wife was suspecting something weird when the boy was a teenager. We did not know what it was. When he finished secondary school, we obliged him to tell us the truth, threatening of not sending him to college if he refused. You know what he told me. “Daddy, I am gay. I didn’t tell you because I was not proud of it but I have understood that there is nothing I can do about it.” It was the worst evening of my life.  He was an A student but I hated him since that very day. I did not want him to go to college because he was a shame to the family. He told me that he wanted to become a lawyer and venture into politics after. My eyes could not stand his presence. I knew he was smart, disciplined, logic and hardworking. He had a very good memory and was always willing to help. He was full of good ideas, he had dreams but I could not project my son in the future becoming a very popular gay lawyer who advocates for the rights of all those sissy men who put make up and shake bum bums in public. I chased him away, though I regret my decision. After all, he is my son only that I had never imagined that my own son, whom I gave my name would become gay and disgrace me. I do not know if he is still alive but I have decided that I will give to a charity organization the money I had invested for his university education. Here is my business card; I’ll fund your project”.

I was speechless. I used to talk about poverty, conflicts and poor education infrastructures as the main obstacles to accessing quality education. That is what I knew, that is what I experienced in my own country. I did not know that discrimination was silently killing dreams. I could imagine these young girls hugging a father who has decided not to send them to good schools simply because they were born girls in a society where marriage is the final destination of a woman. “They are innocent. They do not know what quality education is, what discrimination means. What about their mother? Probably she is a homemaker who knows nothing about dreaming beyond marriage”, I said to myself. Then I imagined that young man, chased away from his home and being denied education because of what he feels. At first, I fell in the trap of judgement; “this one chose his plight” then I wondered why such an amazing intelligent son would choose to be chased away from home and put an end to his dreams. I was ashamed of my first thought and wished I could help him. I feared that he may have ended up in hands of men who took advantage of his vulnerability to exploit him emotionally and sexually, infecting him with HIV. I feared that he may have looked for other parents and could not find someone who would love him like his own parents. I feared that he might have ended up in a criminal gang that is using his intelligence and the anger he had for his family and the community that rejected him, to kill innocent people. I feared that he may have been so desperate that he had committed suicide. My head was too loaded with thoughts that I needed to refresh it by washing my face. I excused myself to my interlocutors and rushed to the gents.   

When I came back, I saw a woman waiting in the lobby. She smiled and asked if she was allowed to ask something. I did not understand what she meant until she told me that she is one of the interpreters in the booths upstairs and they are not supposed to comment or ask questions to guests without their permission. “Go on lady”, I uttered as a picked a glass of water from the waiter.  “My son is an albino. He is my only son, my life, my future. I have invested in his education. I want him to get the best education and unlock his potential. He is so talented but he dropped out last year because he could not cope with the bullying and discrimination in his school. I met the principal not once but…I needed support from my fellow parents but I could not get it. In my country, people are very individualistic. When a problem does not affect them directly, no one cares. I need more information about the exchange program you talked about. I am also willing to support four children like him, in order to give them a chance to access quality education and unlock their potential.” The chairlady came to me, asking if I was ready to give a closing remark after the dinner. “With pleasure!” I said as I gave my business card to the woman. “Let us have a conversation after this conference, and if possible put me in contact with your son”.  

From the tribune I could see the people I met, who pledged funds for the project even if they did not care about their own for various reasons. The organizers thought I would be happy because we received pledges beyond our expectations. By contrast, I was shocked, in pain and sad. I looked at the audience and said; “Thank you for your support to the quality education for all project. Children are gifts from God. They have talents to nurture and a tremendous potential to unlock. They come to this world with their particularities but deserve the same care, the same love and the same treatment. Obviously, we need updated curricula, good schools and good teachers to unlock their potential. Let us give them the right to dream and the opportunity to achieve their dreams irrespective of who they are, where they live and where they come from. Let us give a chance to all children, starting in our families. Thank you.” 

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