Being rich

Dear Aunt Alice,

I’ve spent my life trying to convince myself that I’m not really rich, but here, I’m directly confronted with the fact that I am. Even the smallest and most humble of the residences I’ve lived in (a dorm room) is grander than the homes of many here. If I had to compare, I would say that my ISU dorm room was about the same size as a home I saw this last week. My dorm room held two students, but that home housed eight family members.

At home, education is required, but here, parents often go door to door, literally begging for money in order to pay school fees so that their children can go to secondary school. The fees for an entire year of boarding school equate to about $360 US, but for families here, that amount is extremely high (considering the fact that minimum wage salary for a full time employee is set at about $1,040 US).

Just yesterday (Saturday, February 19), I had a complete stranger stop me on the road and tell me that his daughter qualified for grade 10, but that he couldn’t afford to send her. To be honest, my first reaction was frustration – I don’t know this man and yet, he had the nerve to ask me for money simply because I’m white. But, the more I’ve thought about it, I feel something a little more akin to sympathy. I can’t imagine how it must feel as a parent to know that your child’s only hope is to receive an education and to know that you aren’t able to provide that for her. So, though I do not plan to give this gentleman money, I have been told that he regularly sells maize (side note about maize – it looks deceptively like our sweet corn back home, but don’t be deceived – it is NOT sweet corn – it is not sweet nor is it juicy) and I believe that I will buy some from him. I probably will end up giving it away rather than eating it, but at least that way I can help the gentleman without giving him a hand out.