The 23¢ Dinner

I had to leave. This discussion had gone on too long for me. Brent and Raphael Mangisi, Kenya Keys board member and class 8 (9th grade) teacher at Egu primary school, had been having another discussion, this one a long one, figuring what it would take to be able to pay for all the students from class 8 to spend the week nights at school. Three years ago we had happened on this amazing phenomenon: about 30 students were spending every week night sleeping on their hard wooden desks. Why were they doing this?  Because at Egu there was a light that was on for three hours a night that they could study by. These extra hours of study greatly enhanced their chances of doing well on the big national exam they were to take at the end of class 8. Their futures were determined by how they did on this one exam. They would go where the light was, at any cost. Click here to read an Oregonian article about them.But a problem had arisen. As students’ scores improved because of their weeknight vigil, more students wanted to come to Egu. The number of students in class 8 had doubled. There were now almost 70 students wanting to study under that light. Having enough light was an issue. But the bigger issue was food. These students were required to bring their own dinner. Before you picture any kind of “dinner” you might bring along to get you through a night of studying, let me redefine what “dinner” is in this world. Dinner is a serving of ugali, a glob of white grain, the consistency of solid cream-of-wheat cereal. If possible, it is accompanied by a “relish,” which would be a bit of liquid, hopefully containing some nutrients, that you could dip the ugali in. This might be liquid from boiled down greens or, if you were very lucky, liquid from a goat stew. Any way you look at it, it was minimal beyond imagination. And, of course, it was the same thing every night, year in and year out.Lack of rain had strained their harvests. Poverty in the area was soaring. Fewer and fewer of the 70 students could bring their dinner.  For a while it worked. The students with dinner shared what little they had. But soon it became apparent that so few calories were consumed that brains couldn’t function well enough to study. So a hard decision had been made; the students that could not bring their dinner had to remain at home. Such is life in Kenya. Hard decisions have to be made. It is the “survival of the fittest” made real.A Kenya Keys intern, Megan Wilcken, had been especially touched by the situation at Egu, which she’d seen first-hand. Could she donate $500 to help all desiring students stay at Egu from now until they took the exam in November? Hence the debate that had gone on for hours. Raphael had stated that you could serve 4 students with 2 kilos of maize flour (which would become ugali). That would be the farthest you could stretch it. How much money would that require to feed the needy students for a month? And how much would it cost to get rid of the kerosene light that made it hot and smoky and hurt the students’ eyes? Could this be converted to solar? And how could this program become sustainable once Megan’s money ran out? And what would happen if twice as many students performed well on the exam, meaning they would need Kenya Keys sponsorship to be able to go on to high school?In our small, all-volunteer organization, no decision is an easy one. We take the spending of donor dollars seriously. We have to consider every trickle-down effect and precedent set by every decision. Our Kenyan leaders are methodical and cautious, all of which can lead to discussions that can go on forever.I stepped out on this one. I’d had enough. I needed to play with the children and unwind from a long day. The determination was finally made: the dinners had been accurately calculated at 23 cents per meal. The light could be converted to solar. All students could be fed and classroom lit for $1200 a year. Kenya Keys had made the commitment to do this for a year and then evaluate the results.The class 8 students of Egu will cheer to find that they will now be able to eat a supper of maize meal, study for three hours in a cramped mud classroom, and sleep on their wooden desks – in an area that is always threatened by elephant attacks.I’m home now. I look at a quarter and I think of what it will provide for those students across the world. Study hard, my young friends.  Be blessed, as the nights pass and the stars smile down on you.