Judith Kumire

Published May 15, 2009 @ 12:10PM PT

In life, most of us walk long and winding journeys, during which some make mere dents and others make huge impressions. My journey made an impression that haunts me and keeps my life awake.

As a young college graduate, I was posted as head of my first school in the most remote area of Nyaminyami District. I felt lonely, lost and hopeless. I was exposed to a new and harsh environment that I had not grown up in. I did not know then that this was going to be a wake-up call for me to help girls in Africa access education.

There were not many girls attending lessons at Mola Secondary School, which was the only secondary school in a hundred-kilometer radius. I would meet a few shy girls in classrooms, grouped together to provide each other with support and protection from the male-dominated environment. Their participation was negligible, so much so that one could easily think they were absent.

For every six boys enrolled there was one girl, but the census statistics showed that there were more women in Mola than men. I could meet women and girls fetching water at the borehole, grinding maize meal at the mill, molding bricks, weeding in the fields and gardens, but during elections they were busy voting men into power. It touched me so much that the very people who are the main producers, who ensure that families are well fed, and form the backbone of economy and agriculture, were being denied the opportunity to get an education. Some of them even lived next to the school, but never knew what was going on inside the walls of the classrooms.

I worked in this remote rural area for ten years; I developed a deep consciousness and respect for the poor. I have understood how poverty impacts on communities and individuals and that one does not choose to be poor. It is a situation no one among us would want to be in. I shared their shattered aspirations and dreams, dreams that were never realized because of poverty. The decisions taken by the poor are not out of choice because there is nothing to choose from.

Intrinsically, I believe educating a girl child builds bridges between African culture and the modern world we are living in today. It is only poverty that makes people hide behind the saying, "Our culture does not allow girls to go to school."

The presence of just a few girls in the school was an indication to me that there were many more girls out in the community who could be yearning to come, but were hindered by poverty. Knowing that gave me the confidence to reach out.

Change takes place slowly but when the results manifest themselves, they are great and long lasting. CAMFED has breathed life into many disadvantaged girls who were hopeless and lost, as it did for me ten years ago. I used to see girls failing but I had no resources and nothing to offer but encouragement. Now things have changed and after ten years of hard work and patience, many of those same girls have become community activists. And today, with the opportunities created by CAMFED, so much has changed and many more girls are now benefiting from the educational system in Mola.

What I say is, even if girls lose a thread along the way, do not despair. Count on them, because today these girls can celebrate with me the results of our dedication and our belief in the emancipation of women.