I wrapped up the previous blog entry, which briefly described our search for the Kenyan girls who best fit the Daraja mold by saying; “tomorrow we will head north to Isiolo and look for more potential students.” We did head north, we did look for more potential students and speaking only for myself, my soul is now different.

Peter Wathitu, Andy Harley, Jenni and I left for Isiolo early in the morning. Isiolo literally is the town that is known as the gateway to the region of Kenya called the “Northern Frontier.” Much like the frontier of the American Old West there are cattle raids, land disputes, skirmishes over water rights and huge herds of buffalo. Unlike the American Old West there are camel caravans and leopards, the buffalo are if the tough, African variety and the warriors aren’t from the Sioux but the Samburu tribe. (Please note that the portions of the Northern Frontier that are this rugged are FAR from the Daraja Academy campus, so we do not experience its drama. However, some of the girls we intend to serve reside there and do.)

To the average passer through, Isiolo is an extremely dry town, when compared to the other towns in Northern Kenya; it is a lush Garden of Eden. There are cities in the northern part of the country that receive less than 10 inches of rain per year. One of these received a total of .5 inches during the 3-year span of La Nina (just after El Nino.),

We drove past the town mosque just as mid day prayers commenced, which was an amazing site. It was Friday, the Muslim holy day and the mosque and adjoining courtyards were so full that worshipers actually knelt on the walls of the courtyard praying as the imam read from the Koran.

Our meeting with the students was to be held at one of their former teacher’s homes, which was removed from the typical tourist thoroughfare. After creeping over scarred streets for about 10 minutes we spotted their former teacher, Isene. At one point or another, she’d taught all of the students we were to meet, over the past 10 years. Even in the 90-degree (+) heat she was regal looking. She wore rows of tiny, tingling, silver beads around her wrists and ankles and wore a traditionally colorful silk head covering.

Isene lead us up three flights of stairs, through inner courtyards to her apartment, which was on the top floor of the building. The stifling heat, flocks of starlings and sounds of the mosque in the distance made it easy to imagine the apartment belonging to Damascus 500 years ago or to Babylon much, much earlier. The breeze was cooler on the top level and it blew through the dim living room, lightly waving the linen curtains.

We spoke to Isene about each of the girls for 20 minutes, learning about their home lives. It turned out that none of the girl’s families would have been able to send them on to secondary school. In fact, she told us that the teachers used to pool their money to buy bread for two of them. Most of the tribes of the Northern Frontier marry their daughters off early and Isene guessed that would probably be the fate of the young ladies we were about to interview. Frankly, learning this made me a little bit nervous. I was unsure if knowing this information might cloud my judgment when it came to deciding whether to admit them or not?

My worries were for naught. The three interviews were absolutely incredible! All four of us were completely blown away by how composed these young ladies were. Sitting before a panel of foreigners they’d never met who essentially held the fate of their education in their grasp, hardly seemed to faze them. They all listened thoughtfully to each question and maintained eye contact throughout their responses.

Though the girls were similar in their poise and dress (all three wore dark, long skirts and head scarves,) they definitely had unique personalities. The first student we interviewed was tall and quick to giggle. She said that education is important for Kenyan girls because it gave them options and independence.

The week that the KCPE standard 8 examinations were held at the end of 2008, our second interviewee was extremely ill. She refused to miss a single exam, but still was disappointed with her scores, which were actually above average. This young lady was stoic in her responses to the questions and told us that she would very much like to become a teacher so she could help the girls of her tribe (Boran.)

The last girl to interview received the highest scores of the three and in my opinion is the quintessential Daraja girl. She actually took her exams last year and moved on to secondary school but was asked to leave after the first term when her family fell on hard times and she was unable to pay her school fees.

Just imagine that for one moment. Since you can remember you have both enjoyed learning and worked hard in school. Consistently, you finish near or at the top of your class, receiving one of the highest marks in your city on the standard eight, (8th grade) national exam. You dream of secondary school, but can only pray to attend. Somehow your prayers are answered. Your family finds the money and you leave for secondary school. Your teachers recognize your intelligence and your desire to learn. The administration, however, sends you home when your 2nd term fees do not arrive on time.

For an entire year you despair. Options are limited in a small town like Isiolo for a girl with only a primary education, regardless of how well you did when you attended. Then a family friend tells you about a school. A free secondary school. Free secondary schools for girls like you, girls from poor families who only dream of learning, and everything changes because you will be traveling to Nanyuki and studying at Daraja Academy.

Mind you, this young lady is much more than a sob story. Her answers were remarkable. The woman that she admires above all others was not from her tribe, her town, her country or even her religion but Mother Theresa of Calcutta. She admires her because Mother Theresa loved and gave help to all, regardless of their nationality or religion. What a waste it would have been for this girl to be relegated to a life or sparse, menial work.

After finishing the last interview and a brief discussion, we collected the three girls and told them that Daraja Academy’s inaugural class would be stronger if they were a part of it. We asked them if they would join us, and all three happily agreed. Needless to say, they were extremely happy.

There are many things that I will humbly claim ignorance to, but I do know education and I know students. Over the last 5 years in the states I sought out those students who had lost hope, which chose not to care about school because they felt school did not care about them. I believed in them and once they believed that I saw miracles happen in my classroom and on my football field. But, there is a totally different form of miracle brewing in the near future.

The young girls assembling this month on the Daraja campus simply want their chance. A chance to grow and learn and become the women they dream that they can become. Girls from nearly a dozen tribes, from all parts of Kenya, inner city and far out in the country will get that chance because of this history making project.

If you have told one person about this website, attended a Daraja Academy event or personally made a contribution, then that chance is happening because of you. Because of the belief in the impossible dream that poor girls from a forgotten corner of Africa deserve an education, you are Daraja. Thank you for supporting these amazing young ladies and if you haven’t yet, please start.

Thank you so much,