Saumu

Saumu’s situation has been my top priority since long before I arrived in Tanga, and things have finally fallen into place after unearthing a lot of unsettling details. I came to learn that since the orphanage closed, 10-year-old Saumu has been living in tough conditions. Her only living parent, her father, drinks heavily and is unable to care for or financially support Saumu and her 14 year old sister, Mariam. Saumu’s extended family – one maternal Auntie who is also living in extreme poverty - also hasn’t been able to step up to support her. I eventually found out that, although her Auntie was cooking for Saumu and assisting with her laundry and basic care, Saumu was not sleeping at the same house as any family members, but rather in a small room with her sister, away from any family to watch over her. While she was safe during the day at school and under her Auntie’s supervision, no one knows what could have been happening – or could still happen – at night when she and her sister are alone.

I agonized over different ways to improve her living conditions, but with all the corruption, politics and poverty here, I realized it wouldn’t be possible to get any kind of financial support to Saumu’s Auntie and actually know that she, or Saumu, received any of it. After talking to people from the orphanage who know Saumu very well, social welfare advocates, my old project manager and other people who are totally removed from this whole thing, I decided that placing Saumu in a local boarding school would be the best option.

I visited 3 Primary-level boarding schools in the Tanga area and weighed the pros and cons of each: One had really nice new classroom facilities but rude staff who refused to give me any information or let me see the boarding accommodation. The Second school had nice facilities, very high academic records, relatively pleasant (but apathetic) staff, and immaculate (as in prison-like or asylum-like) boarding facilities. The third school I looked at was a little further out of town, with slightly run-down classrooms, friendly staff, and comfortable and unpretentious boarding facilities. The last one felt most like a home, and the director of the school was so happy to hear of my intentions to sponsor Saumu, welcoming me to come to the school anytime to volunteer or check in on Saumu. The first two had said they essentially didn’t want me to check in on Saumu unless it was the designated monthly “Parents day” – Absolutely no exceptions, even if I happened to fly halfway around the world to visit on the wrong day… a little disheartening.

I sought advice on this whole situation from just about everyone I knew in Tanga – Mohamed: my host, who I worked with as a volunteer in 2008, Vera: the assistant director of the orphanage who has cared for Saumu for the last 2 years and helped the children settle into their new homes once the orphanage closed, Joel: the Computers/Art teacher and member of the board at the orphanage who checks on the kids now that they are back with their families, and Steven: a past orphan success-story who has his own private nursery school as a result of the Orphanage’s charity, and has accepted the job of paying school fees and monitoring all the orphans now that they are no longer under the care of the orphanage.

Most days of my days in Tanga were spent meeting up with Saumu and her friends at the Tanga Museum to draw, listen to music, make friendship bracelets or head over to the market to shop and have a soda. On many of such afternoons, Steven, Vera, Joel and I would discuss plans for Saumu and deliberate on our options for her. We decided to go with the third school – the one with lovely staff and a slightly run-down atmosphere – because we felt that Saumu needed a loving, caring home and comfortable environment more than she needs to excel academically right now. We’ll see how this school works out for a year or two, and if she isn’t getting a level of education we are happy with, we can move her to the strict and posh school with high academic ratings and immaculate boarding.

The application process took a bit of work. We had paperwork to fill out with questions like: “Date of Birth:” for which we weren’t always able to track down answers (we asked Saumu, her father, her sister and her Auntie how old Saumu is or when her birthday is, and no one knew!). We needed academic records and references from current school teachers. We needed to put Saumu through a medical examination and blood test to screen for basic health concerns, HIV/AIDS and malaria parasites (No problems, thankfully!). The school requested a copy of Saumu’s birth certificate also – something which she has never had – so we’ve also begun the process of obtaining one from the government (I don’t know how we’ll pick a date of birth yet…). The school also advised us that Saumu would need quite a lengthy list of supplies for school – and all she had was a few basic clothes.

The next biggest issue was seeking approval from Saumu’s father to place her in boarding school, and also to find a place where she could safely stay during school closures for holidays. We called in Saumu’s father on several occasions to discuss our options. We were all very happy when he gave us approval to put Saumu in boarding school; in fact, he was very thankful and happy that we wanted to help! Saumu’s dad has a history of alcohol abuse and has never properly cared for his kids from what I’ve learned. I expected him to be difficult to work with and I imagined he wouldn’t be a kind man – how could a kind person neglect a child? He turned out to be very agreeable. When I met him I could tell that he has been through hell and back again – surely there are many reasons why he hasn’t been able to properly care for his daughters. He was so happy and thankful for my help and was willing to cooperate with whatever I thought was best. On many occasions, when decisions became complicated or local talk clouded my judgement, he encouraged me to do what I alone thought was right, without listening to any outside influences who could lead me astray – A wise man.

Unfortunately, Saumu’s dad also said that other than this place where the girls were sleeping at the time, he didn’t really know of anyone who could care for Saumu properly during her school holidays. He said his own house consisted of only one room – and it obviously wouldn’t be appropriate for a 10 year old girl to sleep with her father, especially when he has a regular girlfriend. Luckily, Steven offered to take care of Saumu on her holidays if no other options were available. The school said that she would be welcome to stay there over breaks if she so wished, but Steven also proved to have a safe and lovely home for Saumu to reside in over holidays if she wanted a true break from school. Steven then met with Saumu’s Auntie, sister and Father to invite them to visit his home, meet his wife and children and to explain the offer he had made. Saumu’s father, again, happily accepted our proposal.

Once we had a bit of a plan in order, we had to tell Saumu exactly what our plans were. I was worried that she would feel scared about going to a new place or sad to leave her Auntie and sister behind, so I wanted to break the news gently to her. Steven sat down with her on one of our lazy afternoons at the Tanga Museum and explained everything honestly to her. As soon as she heard the news she was perched on the edge of her seat, grinning and nearly bouncing with excitement! I couldn’t believe how happy she was! She kept interrupting Steven to ask questions: “Do they have a dog? Do they have a TV? What does the uniform look like? Will I get to sleep in bunk beds? How old are the other girls in boarding? What do I need to bring? How soon can I go?!” I fought back tears amidst my laughter – I was so relieved and happy to see her perk up and smile.

Next came shopping. So Much Shopping. I went to Saumu’s “home” (Auntie’s house) to see what things she had for school, and what she would need. She had a few clothes, most of which came from our shopping trips at Tangamano, 3 pairs of underwear, one pair of socks, an old toothbrush, 2 dresses, one worn out school uniform and one pair of too-small school uniform shoes. She borrowed her Auntie’s sandals on weekends when she came out with me and shared a comb with her sister.

For about $100 Canadian dollars I bought Saumu a mattress and pillow, bed sheets, pyjamas, all the toiletries she’ll need for the next year, 2 pairs of black school shoes and shoe polish, 2 pairs of sandals, school supplies (pens, pencils, notebooks, erasers etc), a towel, mosquito net, 2 khangas, her own hair comb, a new suitcase, clothes for after school and a new school backpack. Another $80 covered 2 new school uniforms, 2 school t-shirts for games, a navy blue school sweater, a custom-made after school dress (in traditional Tanzanian fabric – I’m jealous), and a black custom- made dress suit for special occasions.

School fees for the entire year, including boarding will cost about $800 Canadian dollars and will be covered by myself, my family and my good friend Midoli – THANK YOU! I left a small ‘emergency fund’ and some pocket money for Saumu in case she runs out of soap, needs a haircut or something like that. Another $30 will go towards hiring a tutor to help Saumu 5 days a week while she catches up on her English. The boarding school is “English Medium” meaning that all subjects are taught in English, as opposed to the government schools which operate in Kiswahili. Saumu will have a bit of catching up to do to be on par with her peers.

Although I felt like I had bought out the entire market and seen every shop in Tanga, sending Saumu to boarding school and supporting her entirely for a full year doesn’t really cost a whole lot in comparison to living or sending a child to school in Canada. We took Saumu to stay at the boarding school one week before I left Tanga. I hoped that by doing so I could continue to check on her to see that she was settling in okay. When we picked her up from her Auntie’s home I expected tearful goodbyes and a hesitant attitude towards leaving family and friends, but was so wrong. Saumu ran to greet me, hugging me and urging me to get this show on the road. We threw her few clothes from home into the new suitcase with all her new things and loaded into a taxi with Steven. She said a few quick and painless “See ya’s” to the neighbours and her sisters and happily jumped into the car. She rolled down the window and waved, but never looked back. She snuggled up next to me in the backseat and anxiously looked ahead to the start of her new life.

In short, Saumu settled in very well. I stayed for the full day to set up her bed, unpack and make sure she had everything. I met the matron and her roommates and watched as Saumu went off to make new friends, leaving me watching carefully from the side. When I came back in the following days to check on her she was very happy to see me, but didn’t seem at all concerned to see me go. She said she already had a very good friend, Aisha, and wanted to know if I could get her a pair of high heels so she’d fit in with the older girls (I rolled my eyes and said maybe later as a gift) – she’s 10! I asked her again and again if she was feeling happy or if she had any problems, but she was confident that everything was just fine.

Now amidst the shopping and meetings and lazy afternoons playing with Saumu I was also stuck in a messy web of lies and corruption. Everyone who offered advice also advised me not to trust anyone. I was warned not to sign any documents, not to trust so-and-so, to get the police involved, to stay the hell away from the corrupt police who would meddle in our affairs in all the wrong ways, to worry about religion, to worry about being poisoned, to worry about anything and everything. And I did worry. I came to trust no one. I agonized over who was giving me valid advice and who was just trying to scare me into handing the situation (and my money) over to them. I lost a lot of sleep.

In the end though, I consulted with the Tanzanian Social Welfare association and they confirmed that everything I had planned to do was perfectly fine. Everyone involved was informed that Saumu’s sponsorship will remain between myself, her father and the school, and if any problems with this arise, the government will step in and ensure that Saumu stays in school. After a month of worrying, meetings, shopping and deliberating, I feel as though I’ve done the right thing. Saumu is happy, safe, cared for, well fed, and will soon be well-educated. She said she’s excited to learn English so she can talk to me when I come back. She also plans to grow her hair out (they must keep it short in government schools, but this private school has new rules)... so when I come back she’ll likely have an afro or braids and be able to chat with me in English!

I left Tanga a few days ago now, after saying a very sad and teary goodbye to Binti wangu, Saumu. No amount of hugs, “Wewe, nakupenda sana’s” and “Nitarudi’s” could make either one of us cry any less. I left her in the care of her matron, Mama Ruth, who I trust will find a way to cheer her up. As much as I hate to leave her, I know I’ve done what is best for her, and when I come back (another trip is already in the works...) she’ll be just fine. Now if I can just find a way to bring her home with me when she’s finished primary school...