Our roots
We have come a long way since a sunny day in September of 2013. I was volunteering at an unlicensed school in Arusha, Tz. The school met a neighborhood need for education and a place for kids to go. Many attended because they received one meager meal a day.
It was midmorning and recess time was approaching. It was obvious that something was wrong with some of the kids–not only did they look ill, they didn’t even have the energy to respond to gentle words. Going out to play was not in the cards–they were 5 years old. When Teacher Mary was asked why, she responded “...they are JUST hungry. They probably haven’t eaten since yesterday at school.” I had never seen someone that hungry–in real life. Definitely, not a little kid.
Kylie (another volunteer) and I asked to bring something for breakfast the next day. The director agreed to feed the hungriest kids. Having no idea what would work, we landed on making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The next morning, the “hungriest kids” were gathered in the small kitchen. The other 45 kids or so, could see what was happening–it must have been so hard for them to watch–I doubt they were feeling too full.
It was midmorning and recess time was approaching. It was obvious that something was wrong with some of the kids–not only did they look ill, they didn’t even have the energy to respond to gentle words. Going out to play was not in the cards–they were 5 years old. When Teacher Mary was asked why, she responded “...they are JUST hungry. They probably haven’t eaten since yesterday at school.” I had never seen someone that hungry–in real life. Definitely, not a little kid.
Kylie (another volunteer) and I asked to bring something for breakfast the next day. The director agreed to feed the hungriest kids. Having no idea what would work, we landed on making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The next morning, the “hungriest kids” were gathered in the small kitchen. The other 45 kids or so, could see what was happening–it must have been so hard for them to watch–I doubt they were feeling too full.
I had never considered that they might have never seen a sandwich or know how to eat it! But they figured it out. After a few days, the director asked if we could provide a 5-7 grain porridge–we did. Still, just the “hungriest” were being fed. Finally, much to my relief, we suggested that all the kids be fed and the food program unofficially began! Soon we added more to lunch and a weekend meal program (there are stories about this, if you ever want to ask about it).
Soon, the hungriest kids were naughtily trying to pick my pockets, climb all over us, and had big smiles. It took a couple weeks, and their skin and hair started to perk up.
All this created more work for the teachers. They were taking turns making the porridge. Kylie and I were doing the breakfast and lunch dishes so that they would have time to teach. We knew that we would be leaving soon and someone needed to pick up the extra work of cooking, dishes, and cleaning. We hired Mama Yohanna. I asked her to work 5 days a week, but to take her 2 days off in the middle of the week so that she could cook meals on the weekend. She was adamant that she wanted to work everyday–and she did for years and years.
Soon, the hungriest kids were naughtily trying to pick my pockets, climb all over us, and had big smiles. It took a couple weeks, and their skin and hair started to perk up.
All this created more work for the teachers. They were taking turns making the porridge. Kylie and I were doing the breakfast and lunch dishes so that they would have time to teach. We knew that we would be leaving soon and someone needed to pick up the extra work of cooking, dishes, and cleaning. We hired Mama Yohanna. I asked her to work 5 days a week, but to take her 2 days off in the middle of the week so that she could cook meals on the weekend. She was adamant that she wanted to work everyday–and she did for years and years.
Donations started to roll in. We needed to raise around $350 a month to pay Mama Yohana and buy the food. My plan was to return to Wyoming and talk folks into committing to a few dollars a month so we could continue to fill tummies.
Now, many years later, one of our primary missions is to provide the nutrition necessary for brain and emotional development. We want our kids to begin primary school strong and ready to tackle what comes next. However, the cost is not the same! We now provide salaries, rent, all the food, utilities, teaching supplies, etc. It runs around $2300 a month. But I think that is a steal. We get so much bang for the buck–Over 40,000 meals a year, teachers with a livelihood, a landlord who has money in his pocket, a safe place for kids to be, a nurturing learning environment, and kids who love to come learn!
Our complementing mission is to provide educational sponsorships for kids when they enter primary school. Currently we have about 50 kids, sponsored to English Medium Schools, who are working hard to fulfill their dreams. Our first group of 11 kids, whom I have known since 2013, graduated from secondary school in 2024!! This is another story to tell for another page.
Now, many years later, one of our primary missions is to provide the nutrition necessary for brain and emotional development. We want our kids to begin primary school strong and ready to tackle what comes next. However, the cost is not the same! We now provide salaries, rent, all the food, utilities, teaching supplies, etc. It runs around $2300 a month. But I think that is a steal. We get so much bang for the buck–Over 40,000 meals a year, teachers with a livelihood, a landlord who has money in his pocket, a safe place for kids to be, a nurturing learning environment, and kids who love to come learn!
Our complementing mission is to provide educational sponsorships for kids when they enter primary school. Currently we have about 50 kids, sponsored to English Medium Schools, who are working hard to fulfill their dreams. Our first group of 11 kids, whom I have known since 2013, graduated from secondary school in 2024!! This is another story to tell for another page.
Created and produced by Bara Jichova Tyson
Christmas day 2014, Kadogo showed up on the street near the center-she was staying with Mama Ombeni. Her mom left her there and, I think, her dad had just died. She didn't have a bed or any real place to land. Kadogo had backwards feet--truly--her bilateral club feet were twisted little stumpish appendages--with thick skin, like animal hide. She didn't complain, but it sure looked painful. She could walk and play--but kept to herself. She had one outfit. I think she was about 7. She had never been to school. Her face proudly bears traditional Maasai scars--I don't know much about them--I've heard different stories. She was hesitant to come inside. Her feet were filthy. I think that bothered her as all the other kids took their shoes off when entering. She didn't /couldn't wear shoes. Victoria, a volunteer, took Kadogo in her arms, lifted her to a low wall, and lovingly washed her feet. She ran warm water over and caressed her feet until they were spotless. Then, she carried her inside. (Cadoga, Hill Crest, Tanzania, 2014, Newsletter) It didn't take long and Kadogo was showing up for meals. She was a quiet addition to the mayhem.
We heard of a miracle place, called Plaster House, where she was accepted for treatment. She joined almost 100 other kids living and awaiting all different types of orthopaedic surgeries. Preparing for surgery is not for the meek. Kadogo began with serial casting--it went on for months and months. Every week or so, new casts were applied to both feet. Each time, they opened her feet and moved them just a bit further forward --kind of like when a kid gets braces on their teeth. Highly skilled surgical teams come from many countries and provide life changing interventions. A day in September of 2015 was her much anticipated surgery. She was joined by dozens of friends--all having similar surgeries.
Mama Kadogo and I went to the hospital for a visit. Just imagine...we are walking down a wide, open to the outdoors, concrete hall. The hospital is very basic (the surgical team has to bring their entire theatre). Kids call to us as we pass-they know we are there for Kadogo. We find her in a drab, concrete block room filled with beds--more than one patient to a bed--probably, at least 30 kids-- all with casts! It was intense. I would have thought that kids would be in pain, but if they were, I couldn't tell it. They were all just so excited that Kadogo had company.
While at Plaster House, Kadogo attended school for the very first time. She flourished. It soon became very evident that she is academically inclined. She took to reading and math like a fish to water. Her type of brilliance isn't only academic, but spiritual. She is a very deep thinker. She asks very tough questions.
It became apparent that Kadogo couldn't return to live with her Mama, brother, and baby sister. She needed a clean, safe place to heal. She continued to live and heal at Plaster House for a couple months post surgery. When it was time to leave, Mama agreed to let her live at a very special place called Hockey Hearts. She needed safety, a place to heal, and she really deserved an education. Mama, sister, and brother lived in a cramped. leaking, mud building--maybe about 10 X 10 feet. Kadogo said that she was afraid to go home. She was afraid of the drunk men in the neighborhood.
Kadogo thrived at Hocky Hearts and her primary school, Haradali. Kadogo worked hard. She learned to run. She plays football. She likes hip-hop. She was elected Head Girl at her school. She developed a passion for preaching and rapping. Mama moved into the neighborhood for a bit and was able to see her everyday. Her sister, BeBe, moved into Hockey Hearts and began attending school with Kadogo.
Today, she is a student at Haradali Winners Secondary School. She is sponsored by two women. One from Australia and one from the USA. She is forever grateful for their support, but expresses what I can only call "awe." Awe at just how all this happened to her. She has a deep belief in God. She worries about her mom and siblings. She is a leader, a kind person, a good student, and my friend.
When I saw her in October of 2024. She sat with me at a graduation, celebration feast (not her graduation, but some of our other students). Everyone around us was in a celebratory mood. She had tears in her eyes when she asked, "how did I get here?" I think she meant it in a couple of ways. One just being that she couldn't remember the details of how she came to meet all of us--the actual logistics of how it all happened. But more deeply, I believe she is trying to figure out her place in this world. She talks to God a lot. I know she questions her role in this life.
When Kadogo was younger, she thought about being the President of Tanzania. As she has matured, her goals have changed. When we last spoke, she was thinking of being an orthopaedic surgeon and helping kids like her.
Seriously, it is an honor to know her.
We heard of a miracle place, called Plaster House, where she was accepted for treatment. She joined almost 100 other kids living and awaiting all different types of orthopaedic surgeries. Preparing for surgery is not for the meek. Kadogo began with serial casting--it went on for months and months. Every week or so, new casts were applied to both feet. Each time, they opened her feet and moved them just a bit further forward --kind of like when a kid gets braces on their teeth. Highly skilled surgical teams come from many countries and provide life changing interventions. A day in September of 2015 was her much anticipated surgery. She was joined by dozens of friends--all having similar surgeries.
Mama Kadogo and I went to the hospital for a visit. Just imagine...we are walking down a wide, open to the outdoors, concrete hall. The hospital is very basic (the surgical team has to bring their entire theatre). Kids call to us as we pass-they know we are there for Kadogo. We find her in a drab, concrete block room filled with beds--more than one patient to a bed--probably, at least 30 kids-- all with casts! It was intense. I would have thought that kids would be in pain, but if they were, I couldn't tell it. They were all just so excited that Kadogo had company.
While at Plaster House, Kadogo attended school for the very first time. She flourished. It soon became very evident that she is academically inclined. She took to reading and math like a fish to water. Her type of brilliance isn't only academic, but spiritual. She is a very deep thinker. She asks very tough questions.
It became apparent that Kadogo couldn't return to live with her Mama, brother, and baby sister. She needed a clean, safe place to heal. She continued to live and heal at Plaster House for a couple months post surgery. When it was time to leave, Mama agreed to let her live at a very special place called Hockey Hearts. She needed safety, a place to heal, and she really deserved an education. Mama, sister, and brother lived in a cramped. leaking, mud building--maybe about 10 X 10 feet. Kadogo said that she was afraid to go home. She was afraid of the drunk men in the neighborhood.
Kadogo thrived at Hocky Hearts and her primary school, Haradali. Kadogo worked hard. She learned to run. She plays football. She likes hip-hop. She was elected Head Girl at her school. She developed a passion for preaching and rapping. Mama moved into the neighborhood for a bit and was able to see her everyday. Her sister, BeBe, moved into Hockey Hearts and began attending school with Kadogo.
Today, she is a student at Haradali Winners Secondary School. She is sponsored by two women. One from Australia and one from the USA. She is forever grateful for their support, but expresses what I can only call "awe." Awe at just how all this happened to her. She has a deep belief in God. She worries about her mom and siblings. She is a leader, a kind person, a good student, and my friend.
When I saw her in October of 2024. She sat with me at a graduation, celebration feast (not her graduation, but some of our other students). Everyone around us was in a celebratory mood. She had tears in her eyes when she asked, "how did I get here?" I think she meant it in a couple of ways. One just being that she couldn't remember the details of how she came to meet all of us--the actual logistics of how it all happened. But more deeply, I believe she is trying to figure out her place in this world. She talks to God a lot. I know she questions her role in this life.
When Kadogo was younger, she thought about being the President of Tanzania. As she has matured, her goals have changed. When we last spoke, she was thinking of being an orthopaedic surgeon and helping kids like her.
Seriously, it is an honor to know her.
This photo is after surgery! So amazing. Mind boggling to me
Mama , Kadogo,and me at the hospital. She never cried, not even once--seems like it must have hurt.
At plaster house after surgery before the casts were removed.
First sneakers!
She is in the striped skirt. you can see her feet. Would it be good to crop it? This is the street where we met her.
This photo is one taken when they were in the process of casting to turn her feet as much as possible before surgery.
Other kids at Plaster House. Either after surgery or before undergoing casting. They sleep many to a bed.
Mama Kadogo when I saw her in October, 2024. She hauls firewood and water for folks. I think she is beautiful. Sometimes, she has problems with alcohol. She's had to make some tough choices for her kid.
Kadogo when we were talking in October.