A Day in the Life
Yesterday we traveled to the two furthest villages that are covered by our programs in order to give the mothers of the children their monthly allowance for breakfast, money that comes from their sponsors in Italy. This meant a 30 minute ride that was about 17 kilometers one way through the red dirt roads of Benin.
The ride was a scary one as the moto slipped and slid in the dirt and sand mixture, all the while kicking up dust in our faces staining my black leggings, gray dress and grey sweater with the red of the countryside.
Once we arrived we kept with the same program as the previous days, Christine (the social worker that works for the project) explained who I was and the new schedule for payment. The mothers all stared at me as they did at the three schools before and ask why I don’t speak their local language, Fon. As I sat waiting to write down the name of those present, I looked to my right and noticed a class of children outside engaging in what was clearly gym class. They where running around a football (soccer for the Americans) pitch, barefoot. As I watched them run in circles, I noticed that all of them were running barefoot. But what really stood out was the front runner. A boy with very long legs who lapped half of the class and did not even appear to be out of breath. It made me sad to watch him because just looking at him I knew that with the right training he could likely be on a national running team or at least compete in state competitions if he was in the US. I was sad because I know that this would never happen for him. Because out here in these rural villages it isn’t that there are few opportunities, from what I have seen opportunities are nonexistent.
While we were there to give the money for breakfast we also gave the children bags for school after which we take a picture of to send to the sponsors. Whenever I go to take the pictures I ask them to make the children smile. After asking five times only two of nine children smiled. This is the same as all of the other schools. Today I asked Christine why the children don’t smile. She said they just don’t. I met one of the high school children on the road and I asked him “Ça va?” He responded “Ça va bien” but I don’t understand how your ça va can be bien when you can’t even give me half of a smile. I think that is one of the saddest things about being here. Looking at children everyday who don’t smile. When we are at the schools at lunchtime, some of the children have nothing to eat and I watch silently as they beg their classmates for a little bit of food.
Watching this everyday, I am really beginning to feel like I can do nothing. Right now I work for an NGO that is supporting some children by paying for school fees, uniforms, breakfast, medicine, etc but at a school of 100 + we may only be supporting 3. Then we give the three children gifts and money in front of the other children who stand by watching and hoping that there is something in the box for them. How will this bring about change for these villages? It won’t. I am really of the belief that until these governments decide that it is important to change the lives of their people, there is nothing that small NGOs can do.
