But, the lure of graduation and e-mailed pleas of the students won me over. I had to be there when the 16 students we had come to know and love proudly walked across the graduation stage. It was a wonderful all-day affair. Faraja's second class to graduate commenced at 10 a.m., October 10, and wrapped up at 4 in the afternoon. A blaring brass band led the graduates from the school up the hill to the church. Every important person spoke: members of the Tanzanian parliament, bishops from the Lutheran Church of Tanzania, Pastor Kileo, the principal, and Gunter Neidhardt, director of the Faraja deacon school. Younger students and deacons sang, danced and read poems, and then a collection was taken for a new building, the graduates and the graduation celebration. The small sanctuary was overflowing with beaming parents, siblings, grandparents and friends of the graduates. During the 4-hour ceremony students hobbled out of the building to stretch and the old and young dozed off, resting on their neighbor's shoulder.
The smiles on the graduates' faces were priceless when presented with their diplomas, and, those of their parents! What an accomplishment. Physically disabled or not, these remarkable young people are eager to learn and become productive citizens. The students at Faraja are bypassing their peers because the private education they receive at Faraja is top-notch for Tanzania. Faraja provides small class sizes, a well-stocked library, computer classes, training for teachers, and outside volunteers and sponsors.During my 10 days in Tanzania I celebrated but also got down to business to ensure these students get the best possible secondary education. In a meeting with three administrators we discussed how and where these young adults should continue their studies. Students take a national exam at the end of primary school, at age 12 to 15. If they pass the test and can afford more schooling, students go on to secondary school; if not, they attend vocational schools or go back to the family farm. The Faraja Foundation is dedicated to seeing all students continue in to the next phase of their education, vocation or work.
There is a saying in Tanzania: "Do not go downhill if you have already climbed uphill." Graduates of Faraja are well along in their uphill climb, and we believe they would be best served at a private secondary school. For man
y of the students, a secondary education in a government school would be a step in the wrong direction.
y of the students, a secondary education in a government school would be a step in the wrong direction. The administrators at Faraja identified the nine brightest graduates, and the Faraja Foundation will help them pursue an education at private schools. The cost of a private education is the same as Faraja's yearly tuition. For $1,200.00 per year, or $100.00 per month, a student gets room, board and an education where they can continue their uphill climb.
When these graduates leave the "comfort" that is Faraja they will go out in to their 3rd world country without the safety net of living with similarly disabled people. Being disabled in a poor country like Tanzania is more of a disability than in America. Tanzania is just now working on their Act for Persons with Disabilities (like our ADA).
I talked with the students about what they will do, how they will react, when people stare at them or are "curious" (a new vocab word!) about their physical disabilities. We did role plays on being an advocate for themselves and each other, if they end up together at the same secondary school. The day before I left Tanzania some of the students and I took a walk to Karanz, a nearby village. On our way we stopped at Nicodemus' home where we looked at photo albums (my graduation gift was one of them), had soda and crackers and talked. Nico and his mother presented me with a live rooster, a gift we often ended up with, its feet strung together hanging upside down, eyes bulging in terror. We left the bird with his mates and continued to market day in Karanz.
Market in Tanzania is a "sea of humanity," as friend Dave Crowner put it. But, talk about standing out in a crowd: a white-haired white woman pushing a wheelchair among the brightly colored Maasai selling their vegetables and grains. This was just what we talked about: how to react when being stared at!
Beatrice bought a card she gave me the next day, along with some sugar cane. Then we were on our way back to Faraja. "Motha, can I help?" Daniel offered, and pushed Elias in his wheelchair back home. Gerald carried my rooster and pulled a classic trickster move. He put his thumb between the body and wing while showing me the rooster had a problem, possibly a broken wing. I touched the wing - his protruding thumb - and jumped. Samweli pulled a Hugh Matthews and fell dramatically down on the path as we walked back to Faraja. Jokesters - a fun, not-so Tanzanian trait.
The rooster was beheaded that night to be ready to cook after church on Sunday. Beatrice, Nico, Goodluck, Daniel, Samweli, Gerald and Lazaro came over to the guest house to cook Mr. Rooster. Crackers with peanut butter, an apple, orange, and one chicken was on the menu for seven people. I shared one last meal with some special kids on the same porch where we shared many meals with friends during our 9 months at the school. It was a fitting end to a great ten days at Faraja.
Have a look at 15-year-old Beatrice Elia's card she wrote to us after graduation. Kay Etheridge and Don Walz, friends from Gettysburg, are sponsoring her secondary education. The child you sponsor will e-mail or write and give you a glimpse in to their life in Tanzania. Visit http://www.farajaschool.org/ or send your check to:
Faraja Fund Foundation
912 Hanover Avenue
Norfolk, VA 23508
