Way back in 2008 I heard a line from a young Kenya Keys student that I will never forget. My daughter Aliska was with me. We’d taken letters from those early sponsors and were sharing them with their students. Salim Diyo, 15 years old, was reading the letter from his sponsor.  “We’re expecting a baby girl in 4 months,” the letter said.  He studied their family photo – a happy young couple, dog on their lap.  

He paused.  “How can they know they are having a baby girl when the baby has not been born?” he asked in wonderment. Aliska explained about an ultrasound. Silence. Of course, he’d never imagined such a thing. He was speechless. His jaw dropped.  “What are you thinking?” asked Aliska. “I am busy being astonished,” he said.

We loved that line and have used it often over the years, as we are always busy being astonished when we are in Kenya. But this year was more astonishing than ever. Perhaps it seemed more so because Covid had kept us separated for so long. But Kenya Keys had also changed remarkably. Seven new employees had been added, five of them working in the new Hope Springs program that targeted the most vulnerable students in grades 5-8. I was astonished at that alone, not to mention the opening of a beautiful new Kenya Keys e-learning classroom at the Taru boy’s school. And the huge growth in the NFE program (non-formal education, for adults who want to get a high school diploma).

But undoubtedly what astonished me the most was that we ran into Kenya Keys alumni, college graduates, who seemed to turn up everywhere! All of them with smiles full of light. All of them rushed up to offer hearty handshakes and “gratitudes”.

When we went to Fuleye primary school, the library was being run by Kassim Julo, a teacher at the school who was a Kenya Keys grad. On the way to Ndohivyo, the special needs school, we saw two young groups of preschoolers learning under a tree – and what do you know, both classes were being taught by Kenya Keys alums, Caroline Haranga, and her friend.  We stopped at our NFE classroom where they wanted to present us with a chicken in gratitude and what did we find? The teacher was another Kenya Keys grad, Julius Chaka.

It went on and on. The intern to the accounts clerk at a high school we visited, was Suleiman Ngedzo, sponsored by a Rotary club in Arizona. A math and chemistry teacher at the same school, Jaffar Mjape, another grad. When visiting one of the college campuses, graduate Holiness Chao came to greet us saying she was running a clothing shop in the town. Hassan Mangale is an engineer on a cargo ship. Halima Mwatela is running an insurance business in Mombasa. Mwambeyu Kaingu is running for a government position. Ruben Lugogo is running a cyber-café. Just the tip of the iceberg. Just the ones we ran into this week alone.

In short, it was nothing short of astonishing. And that’s not to mention what I’d seen happen on the U.S. side – the number of sponsors growing every month. The cadre of dedicated volunteers. The addition of two new, superb employees. Donors include school children, book clubs, businesses, Rotary clubs, families, individuals. When here, I get the gifts of gratitude, the songs, the goats, and the chickens. But in reality, Brent and I don’t have much to do with it. We just get to watch the magic unfold.

In this terribly messed up world, there are so many people that just want to connect; as humans, as “learners,” as participants in something larger than themselves. They are hungry for it. They long for meaning. For making a difference. For feeling like it all matters, and that money can do more than just make us more discontent.

Thank you to the family of Kenya Keys. All of you!

I am busy being astonished.