Years ago my friend once told me that I should write for those that cannot. It’s one hell of a responsibility and I ask myself: who the hell asked me to anyways? Take for example the day I spent at Subuiga Primary School with some of the York Teachers. It was a formidable day for me and for them. So many eager young faces waiting to know what your name is, waiting to follow you around and hoping that we will come to their classroom. Imagine! Being so eager that you skip out on your one meal of the day.
What for? We come here with our ways and our preconceptions of these kids. We teach them games and share some laughs that are lost in translation. We taught them the song “Waving Flag” which speaks of valor against oppression, and I have to say, those words rang loud and clearly for me. It is kind of hard to not to leave a classroom of 50 jeering, smiling faces and feel at awe. And as we sang and rehearsed the lyrics over and over again, it truly sent a shiver down my spine. But it is more than just teaching them something, it is the hope that these kids will absorb the meaning of the song.
“When I get older,
I will be stronger,
They’ll call me freedom,
Just like a waving flag.”
But I just don’t know if they are even asking for this. It is not meant to belittle the hard work that has gone into any single one of our projects while here. It just seems to me however, that what I am accomplishing here is therapy for myself. I don’t know though, I am undecided about this. One thing I know for sure is how overjoyed I felt while there. At one point I had ten tiny, dusty hands reaching out to hold my hand. Twenty pairs of tiny eyes just looking up at me, not caring if I said anything or did anything. They just wanted to hold my hand.
The next day, I came back to the office and veterinary Mutinda, “the Copter”, tells me that not enough people write. “So many things happen in Lewa but everyone is too busy with their work and their life. Too many things go under the radar.” So I guess there is a lot of truth to it and I suppose that if it weren’t for writers around the world a lot of things would go unnoticed, tucked away in memories. But no formal request, no invitation is necessary in order to write. I shouldn’t be so negative as to say it is therapy for the individual. To put it into words, writing is the thousand and one words that a picture could never capture.
What for? We come here with our ways and our preconceptions of these kids. We teach them games and share some laughs that are lost in translation. We taught them the song “Waving Flag” which speaks of valor against oppression, and I have to say, those words rang loud and clearly for me. It is kind of hard to not to leave a classroom of 50 jeering, smiling faces and feel at awe. And as we sang and rehearsed the lyrics over and over again, it truly sent a shiver down my spine. But it is more than just teaching them something, it is the hope that these kids will absorb the meaning of the song.
“When I get older,
I will be stronger,
They’ll call me freedom,
Just like a waving flag.”
But I just don’t know if they are even asking for this. It is not meant to belittle the hard work that has gone into any single one of our projects while here. It just seems to me however, that what I am accomplishing here is therapy for myself. I don’t know though, I am undecided about this. One thing I know for sure is how overjoyed I felt while there. At one point I had ten tiny, dusty hands reaching out to hold my hand. Twenty pairs of tiny eyes just looking up at me, not caring if I said anything or did anything. They just wanted to hold my hand.
The next day, I came back to the office and veterinary Mutinda, “the Copter”, tells me that not enough people write. “So many things happen in Lewa but everyone is too busy with their work and their life. Too many things go under the radar.” So I guess there is a lot of truth to it and I suppose that if it weren’t for writers around the world a lot of things would go unnoticed, tucked away in memories. But no formal request, no invitation is necessary in order to write. I shouldn’t be so negative as to say it is therapy for the individual. To put it into words, writing is the thousand and one words that a picture could never capture.
