In 2003 the Kenyan government announced this as truth: “Public education is free to all Kenyan children”. Well, that’s probably no more than a HALF-truth...Education is free to all Kenyan children... Yes, to those Kenyan children who can afford to buy the full uniform of their school (US$45), own clean black shoes (US$22), buy a wooden DESK (YES! it’s BYOD! price variable), get a “gym set” uniform (US$10) and a “math kit” (US$4) and notebooks and text books and other supplies (US$15) and, in the case of Veronicah, also pay a “transfer” fee of US$10 to change schools. Schools in Kenya receive only US$130 per student per year from the federal government and will often add illegal “fees” to bring in more revenue. For grandmother Jane, that would be more money than she could ever put together. So while Jane is hoping to find day labor in the fields (almost 25% of Kenyans earn less than US$1 a day), Veronicah idles away her time, thinking she may earn a few schillings by helping a neighbor wash clothes. Food isn’t cheap in Kenya: loaf of bread $1, apples, fruit, sugar and dairy are about the same as here.
I was appalled and couldn’t hide my astonishment. No problem, I said, I’ll pay the $10, let’s go to the school and get her enrolled. That won’t work, said Emily, children can’t be enrolled in school without the presence of a parent or guardian, and the grandmother is somewhere in the fields. She asks Veronicah if there are any other family members around. Yes, my uncle, says Veronicah but he’s not home either. Veronicah understood English quite well, but was shy about speaking. I told her to go to her house in case her uncle or grandmother had returned home while she was washing clothes. She ran off into the distance, but walked back slowly several minutes later. Clearly, no one was home and she understood what was happening: this “mzungu” (white tourist, but in a good sense) was trying to help her get into school and without her grandmother or uncle to sign the enrollment papers, nothing would happen! Emily and this American lady would drive away in their van and be gone forever! Veronicah looked at me, her eyes pleading with me to wait, to stay, to just make something GOOD happen for her, p-l-e-a-s-e. I asked Emily to check with the washer-lady if the family had a cellphone. Yes, they do but no one is answering it. My new friend Emily had 10 more AMPATH visits to make and it was almost noon, we’d already been here an hour. Thuo, the driver was thirsty, how long could I expect them to wait? Emily suggested I come back the next day but without an address, I knew I would never find this place or Veronicah again. We stood by the van, just waiting, waiting, waiting for something to happen...and it did! Across the field an old woman in a baggy skirt came running, waving her arms madly in the air and yelling : Ver-on-i-cah!!! Ver-on-i-cah!!!!
I felt like I was on a movie set and some insane script that I knew nothing about, was being rehearsed around me. Except this was real, and my life and Veronicah’s life were careening in a new direction that just an hour ago would have seemed preposterous. Emily explained again that I was willing to pay the $10. transfer fee. Grandmother shakes her head, no, that’s only part of it. There is no money for uniforms or the “desk”. I’ll take care of that too, I say, let’s just get her in school today! But then, there’s the problem that the public school is 3 km. from home and that’s too far to walk, especially in the rainy season. It’s all getting very complicated and I don’t know what to do. (I wished I could talk to David, but he’s doing surgery; he always helps me sort out dilemmas). How can I just leave this young girl here in the road, without a chance for an education for very possibly the rest of her life! But then I think: maybe all my talk is just making things worse; fate is fate, this is what real poverty is and this is what it does, so deal with it... not everyone can be helped. Suddenly I remember we’re in Kabongo and the Patrician School is only 1/2 km. away! I borrow Emily’s cell phone and call Brother Paul. He understands my plight but thinks the classes are already too full (45-50 students per class) and there is not room for even one more student. He suggests I call John, the handyman/financeman/enrollment officer. John and I had chatted when I was helping at the clinic, and then again when I toured the school. I call him up and he says he’s about 2 miles from the school and traveling on foot, but if we can come pick him up, we can all go to the school together and discuss it. We’re on our way! Emily and Thuo are in the front, Veronicah and Grandma are with me in the back, and minutes later we squish even closer as we pick up John. He talks to Veronicah to assess her grade level; he decides on 4th, with good reason. No one seems to know when she was last in school or what grade she completed, but she says she’s 10 years old, and 4th grade can make room for one more student... so 4th grade it is!!!! Grandma signs on the dotted line, grinning a half-toothless smile from ear to ear, and I am also a little giddy. Veronicah stays quiet, probably overwhelmed by the chaotic events that are suddenly unfolding a future that never seemed within reach. I write up a little “contract” for her on an index card, saying she “promises to study hard and be a good student”. She smiles and signs her name (Veronicah, yes, with an “h” at the end). I arrange to pay tuition to Brother Paul the next day at the Eldoret Club: $100 yearly.
But now it’s time for a shopping spree so Thuo and Emily drop us off downtown. My unlikely quartet includes John, Grandma Jane and Veronicah and we head into the Uniform Store. John says we need 2 blue school dresses, a red sweater, one gym set, black socks, a backpack (Veronicah likes the orange one), 10 spiral notebooks (5 subjects, 2 notebooks per subject), an English dictionary, 4 pens, 4 pencils and 2 erasers. I toss in some crayons and a coloring book...has she ever colored before? Then to the shoe store for those chunky black shoes and a BIG tin (per John’s insistence) of Kiwi shoe cleaning paste. The tab is now close to $70. Would Veronicah ever have had any chance to go to school? It’s clear that Jane could never have been able to afford this, and apparently the government isn’t too concerned about this outrageous injustice.
No doubt, it was Veronicah’s lucky day to be standing just where she was when our van came by. But it was mine as well. It’s the popcorn theory: there are kernels all over the place, popping here, popping there, but it’s the one that pops in your face that gets your attention. And that’s just where Veronicah popped...smack dab in front of my incredulous eyes! So this little darling treasure was the one who caught my attention...how lucky am I!
School started at 8:30 the next morning and I woke up early back at our Eldoret Club, fretful that it would be too much pressure and Veronicah would want to stay home. I needn’t have worried. When I saw Brother Paul at the Club later that day he told me the good news: Veronicah and Grandma were waiting at the school gates at 7AM! Veronicah was all scrubbed up, in fresh uniform and ready to go. Her books were in her new backpack and she was eager to make new friends.
I visited the school 3 more times before David and I left Eldoret. The last day I saw Veronicah was when I stopped by the mud hut where she lives with her Grandmother.She wore the new Girl Guides uniform we had purchased several days before, with the beret, matching socks and a little change purse looped on a black leather belt. She grabbed my hand and led me into the small dark room where we sat on old car seats. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed 3 other smiling faces with shiny white teeth grinning at me. Much to my great surprise,Veronicah had 3 siblings: Sharon, 12, Kelvin, 11 and Moses, 7. They scrunched up next to me, grabbed my hands and gently patted my skin. What to do??? I couldn’t just leave them behind! We were heading to Nairobi in another hour and then home. I called Brother Paul and told him to enroll them all in the Patrician School and buy them new uniforms, as well as books and pencils. The boys will be Scouts, the girls Guides and they will all assist with flag raising and singing the Kenyan National Anthem at school. They will have to study hard; their previous school attendance record is practically non-existent. When I called a couple of days later from Bellevue and spoke to Grandma, she just shouted into the receiver: “Children! School! Children! School!”. I repeated it back to her. Our conversation was certainly brief but I knew just what she meant. It was evening in Kenya and too dark to read, so the kids stayed late at school where there was electricity.
We have also set up a small fund for incidentals the kids will need every year. Top priorities are a solar lamp for reading at home after dark, daily vitamins and a second pair of shoes. And for the girls, new cotton panties, and for Grandma too, of course...every woman, young or old, can use those.
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| Veronicah tries on a school uniform |
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| Shoes! Imagine, a pair of shoes! |
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| First day at school. We were both very excited! |
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| Sharon, Veronicah and Grandma Jane |
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| Our new family |
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