News

A Critical Year for Realizing Dreams

by Jeff James

Evance Chieng dreams of going to college. The honor of being the first in his family to do so is a bragging right few in his community can boast. His grandmother, Rujina Abusa, reminds him often how proud his parents would be (had they survived the HIV epidemic) of his success.  Thinking of them, and his grandmother who has suffered the loss of 6 children to the same disease, encourages him to work harder. Her smile and determination inspire him to persevere.

This year is a critical year for Evance.  He is in 8th grade, and will graduate from Lalmba’s children’s program at the end of this year.  Unless he qualifies for one of our coveted scholarships for secondary or trade school, his scholastic career ends soon. Fishing is his backup plan. It’s the practical path that most young men choose from this lakeside community.

Knowing the odds are slim and the competition steep, Evance seems unconcerned.  He believes with all his heart that this time next year he will begin high school.

Sadly, less than 10% of the children in our program are able to continue with formal education beyond 8th grade.  Why is that?  Well, mainly it’s the prohibitive cost for families living on less than a dollar a day.  School fees are not even a consideration. Primary education costs about $40 per year, and secondary school is about $300 per year, way out of reach!  Scholarships are few.  Evance and 100 other 8th graders will compete for Lalmba’s 30 coveted scholarships.  30 is not a magical number; it’s simply what we can afford, as we focus on primary education for almost 1000 younger students.  We’d love to provide a scholarship to high school for each child who qualifies.

In fact, when I was there in January, our Children’s Director in Kenya introduced me to 8 students who qualified for a Lalmba scholarship, but because their test scores were marginally lower than their peers, Lalmba did not have scholarship budget for them.  I felt for those 8 students. They are smart children, ambitious in their hopes, tireless in their work.  It would be unjust to extinguish their dream so soon, I thought, tossing them to labor on the lake before they’ve had a real chance to break away and heal their families, families trapped in a cycle of perpetual poverty.

We have to make some very difficult decisions sometimes in this work; decisions that could have generational ramifications for a family. We’re a small organization with limited resources, and we take pride in our philosophy of doing the most good with little. But for these 8 kids, we made the decision to increase our fundraising by $2400 for the next 4 years and give them the opportunity to change the course of their lives. That’s a commitment I feel good about making.

High school in America is an opportunity we take for granted. It’s a birthright in our minds. But for these kids, a high school education is a rare opportunity. And if given the chance, not a lesson will be squandered, nor a class missed. These students know what’s at stake.

When we told them that they would, after all, receive a scholarship, a breathless silence filled the room, and then it lit up with unbridled joy!  If the energy of happiness could be harnessed and sold to the highest bidder, that moment would have been worth a billion dollars, and our perpetual budget woes would be over. But happiness’s value is not monetary; it’s more meaningful than that.  And although the moment was fleeting, a sense of hope now shines prominently in their minds. The family story can be altered; a happy ending is once again possible.


As we begin a new year setting new goals, we want to keep you, our generous supporters, informed.

In 2015 our operating budget was $552,000, and we raised about $565,000.  It was the most financially healthy year for Lalmba since 2008. Because of that and because of your generosity last year, we were able to increase funding to our microloan program by $10,000, helping more needy families start small businesses to get on the path to independence.  And, of course, with our addition of scholarships for these 8 deserving kids, our budget this year is $565,000, to the dollar of what we raised last year. How’s that for running a lean, sustainable program?

Please keep us in your prayers and help us when you’re able to fulfill our mission of providing hope through opportunity.

Or, you can use PayPal to make a donation by clicking the below link:




Jeff & Hillary JamesA Critical Year for Realizing Dreams
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Lalmba News, Vol. 53, No. 1

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By Jeff James

When I saw the tears fall in great drops upon the table, creating craters of dust and dark marks on the stained wood, I knew I had asked the wrong question. I wanted to know if she remembered the day her father walked her from her home in the lowlands of southwestern Ethiopia to the highland rainforests of Chiri, and then left her there, alone. Forever.

She remembered, and her tears told the whole story. There were no further details necessary. Posy’s life, all 9 years of it, has been a tragic series of abandonment.

Posy was born to the nomadic, warrior tribe of the Menit people, pastoralists roaming the lower Omo river valley.  Around the age of 5 or 6 Posy suffered her first epileptic seizure. As a result, her siblings were no longer allowed to play with her, and she was forced to sleep outside. Her parents were concerned that a curse may have been put upon their family.

The frequency of her seizures increased, and her parents determined there must be evil at work. I’ve heard horror stories of epileptics thrown into rivers to drown or be devoured by crocodiles, or tied to a tree and left to die. But Posy’s family had compassion for her and chose to leave her in a bustling town with a fistful of money (about $5), a hundred of miles from her home, and among people whose language she didn’t speak.  She was 7 years old then, and by the grace of God, that town was Chiri.

Her money lasted but a few days and the nights were cold and scary. But one afternoon, while Posy was begging in the street, mercy showed her face.  Posy met a woman who took pity on her and offered a job fetching water and cleaning. In exchange for service, Posy received one meal a day and a corner inside to sleep. But then another seizure gripped her, terrifying the woman.

The woman was convinced that what she witnessed was nothing short of evil, and evil was not welcome in her home. And so Posy returned to the streets to beg.

Eventually Posy met a nurse who understood epilepsy, and who offered her servant work in exchange for food, but not shelter. She could sleep in the yard or in the cow shed. But Posy’s seizures continued and one day, while cooking over an open fire, she convulsed and toppled right into it.  She couldn’t extract herself until the tremors ended, and by then, her burns were severe. The nurse cleaned and dressed her wounds as best she could and sent her to rest under a shade tree. After a few days, however, her wounds became terribly infected and the smell of burned flesh irritated the nurse. It was an intolerable odor. And so, yet again, Posy was sent away with nothing but the shredded clothes that clung to her body, and a fever that shook her to the core.

She was found by a Lalmba employee, lying in a ditch, confused, and close to death. She was admitted into our hospital where her burns were treated, she was cleaned and given high doses of antibiotics. But the damage was bad, really bad, and surgery was needed to restore use of her arm. The infection needed advanced care that we couldn’t provide. We took her to the Missionaries of Charity in Addis Ababa, truly a place where saints flock to cure and comfort the sick and dying. It was her best hope of surviving, and after 4 months of surgery and recovery, she healed perfectly.  She’s badly scarred, but she is strong and able-bodied. The sisters sent her back to Chiri, a town where she had no home, no family, and only one friend, Lalmba.

A home she found in Lalmba’s orphanage, and at the age of 9, she will begin the 1st grade in just a couple of weeks. She has a bed inside a house with windows and doors and a roof that doesn’t leak, and on her bed she has Tweety Bird sheets. She wakes up to breakfast and a routine that values education and hard work, and accepts her for who she is. And yet, I know, when she closes her eyes at night, she imagines her next step, when all this goodness is over and the bed once again is the street. She can’t possibly believe the horrors are gone; life can’t be that good. But it is, by the grace of God, it is. Posy, through a tragic path, a perilous route, found safety and shelter in a home that will never expel her, one that will nourish her with love and acceptance.  It’s too soon for her to believe it’s real; but I looked into her tear-filled eyes, and I held her scarred hand, and I promised her, this home, this family of orphans and castoffs, is just like her, and like them, she will never be sent away.

That is a promise I intend to keep.

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Posy’s bed with Tweety Bird sheets.


Understanding Poverty

By Hillary James

The students in Dr. Colleen Fenno’s freshman writing class at Concordia University in Wisconsin haven’t thought much about world poverty before.  Colleen, a Lalmba supporter, partners with Lalmba each semester to give her students a first-hand education in what it means to be one of the millions living in extreme poverty.  Each semester Hillary skypes with the students to tell them about Lalmba’s work in Africa.  Colleen then asks her students to perform one task in solidarity—either washing their clothes by hand for 2 days, carrying 10 pounds on their head for 1 mile, or eating only rice and beans for 48 hours—-then write about it. Below are some of the comments from her students after their experience:
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“Although I already knew I was fortunate just to live in the United States, this walk further imprinted in my mind just how lucky I am. Unlike those in developing countries I wasn’t walking for my survival, but instead for a college class. I am not only fortunate enough not to have to walk to get my water, but I also am able to attend college. This is more than most people would even dream of in a developing country.”


“So, I picked out the clothes I wore from Friday and Saturday and brought it back up with me to wash by hand. As I walked back up to the bathroom on my floor I stopped in my room to grab dish soap.  I scrubbed my clothes and rung out the soap. Afterwards, I walked back to my room and decided to hang my clothes by the window to dry. Later that night, I flipped them over so the other side could dry.  It took me a while to wash what I wore from the past two days, and I got water all over myself. Doing this challenge helped me realize I should not take simple things, like washer and  dryer machines, laundry detergent (Tide pods), and fabric softener, for granted.

Before completing this challenge, I complained about having to walk down two flights of stairs just to get to the laundry room.  

 Now I know that I am lucky that I am able and fortunate enough to walk those stairs and throw my clothes in a machine that will clean my clothes for me. Manually washing clothes and having to find a spot to place them to dry was not simple. “Living below the line” helped me realize so many things I take for granted, and I am glad that I was challenged with this experience.“

 

 


 

A New Partner in Health

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One of the two roads to Agaro Bushi Primary Clinic.

By Hillary James

It is hard for us to fathom the hardship for the sick in Ethiopia to reach adequate medical care.  Agaro Bushi, a tiny village 4 hours’ walk from Lalmba’s health center, is a place without electricity, water, or an adequate road to reach the outside world.  A health clinic there was started by Ruth Brogini, the wife of the former Swiss ambassador to Ethiopia and the director of an organization called SAED (www.saedetiopia.org). Since its inception, the clinic has been a first stop for the sick.  If the illness is significant, the patient must travel the 4 hours by mule to reach Lalmba’s Chiri Health Center.  There are several river crossings, one with a single log acting as a bridge, and harrowing hills with steep slopes.

Ruth has been struggling to keep the clinic open, challenged by her inability to manage from Switzerland.  Last year, Lalmba partnered with Ruth to provide the oversight for the clinic with weekly visits from Lalmba’s volunteers in Chiri, while SAED provides the funding, and a new ambulance for Lalmba’s use.  When the road is too bad for a vehicle, we strap medicines and equipment onto mules’ backs to carry them to Agaro Bushi.

The last time I visited Agaro Bushi, a woman 34 weeks pregnant came to the clinic saying she had not felt her baby move for some days.  Susan Botarelli, our expat public health director, realized the baby had died and the woman would require a transfer to a hospital.  The woman’s husband arranged for a mule, and he and his brother walked alongside the patient up and down mud-slick roads, across precarious creek crossings, 4 hours until we reached Lalmba’s vehicle.  The woman stoically lay down in the back of the Land Cruiser for the bumpy ride to Chiri, knowing all along that her almost full-term baby was most certainly dead.  Her husband stroked her face, whispering reassurances as they spent the day trying to reach medical care.  I will always remember her strength in the face of despair, and her stoicism in the arduous journey to reach our clinic.  Without Lalmba’s involvement, Ruth had considered closing the clinic, given its remoteness and the difficulties in managing it.  Lalmba’s expertise in managing rural African health clinics now has a new opportunity to provide good primary health care to a very needy population! We are so pleased to have a new partner in doing what we do best, being a source of health for those in the world who need it most.

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Left to Right: Atinafu (Chiri Health Center Assistant Manager), Jeff, Romeo (Lalmba’s Ethiopia Project Director), Tafesse (CHC General Manager), and Ruth Brogini (Director of SAED) in front of the new ambulance.


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 Picture This: 

Sights from our African Journeys

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A clever taxi driver or moving company in Kenya.

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Aster, the Chiri orphanage housemother, milks the cow.

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Lalmba staff celebrate and sing a traditional song.

 


 

 

 

 

                                           

Jeff & Hillary JamesLalmba News, Vol. 53, No. 1
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Lalmba News, The Christmas Edition, Vol. 52, No.5

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BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND

SALAD TONGS!

These hand-crafted beauties from Kenya with beaded handles, ergonomically designed, will add a touch of elegance to your holiday meals.  They also make great gifts! Who wouldn’t want a pair of these to uniquely grace their kitchen table?

But, don’t be fooled, these are no ordinary pair of salad tongs. 

Their versatility will amaze you!        

Example A

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Pluck away those pesky garden gnomes! 

Example B

raking leaves

Your garden rake broke and leaves cover your lawn; don’t worry, the fork makes a great rake!

And when you’re done raking, grab the spoon and scoop away!

SHOVELSeriously though, we have chosen a practical gift for you this Christmas, with a signature African flair. If we receive your order before December 19, it can serve your salad this Christmas.

Donate today to get your salad tongs by Christmas.





Tembea Na Mimi

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Tembea Na Mimi (walk with me) in Africa was a happy occasion!  There’s no greater satisfaction than putting our cause into action by walking.  Why?  Because from the moment we were born, whether in a poor village in Africa or in a life of endless opportunity, we all strived to take that first step to walk, to explore, and to become independent.  The steps we take across continents are what bring us together.  For those of you who participated, thank you! You helped us raise $17,000 by showing your support for our friends in Africa who walked with us on September 21, Lalmba’s 52nd Anniversary. One study shows the average American walks about 5,117 steps a day. But check out these numbers!

Kenya

Ruth G walked 26,206 steps

Ruth W. walked 34,733 steps

Ray walked 24,008 steps

Caroline walked 35,658 steps

Stephen walked 23,854 steps

Ethiopia

Askale walked 27,749 steps

Worke walked 25,347 steps

Tadelech walked 33,395 steps

Girmo walked 34,691 steps

Shemsedin walked 30,693 steps


Fundraising

At first glance, the below graph could look problematic. But we are encouraged by your support this year and hope to achieve a balanced budget. As many of you know, our Christmas fundraiser is the most important one of the year, and we hope this year will be no different. Thank you in advance for your generosity and for helping us to meet our goals.

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 Walk To Matoso

Story and photos by Rob Andzik, Lalmba Board Chairman

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If you have been following Lalmba over the last year, you have heard of Tembea Na Mimi (Walk With Me). A walk for a cause. 10 days, 163 miles, 11 walkers, 11 crew, 22 camels. What an amazing adventure!

Hopefully you have had a chance to read the blog postings on our website (www.lalmba.org). Jeff James has done a truly amazing job capturing the spirit of the walk, the strength of each walker, and the beauty we saw in both the wilderness we walked through and the people we met. However, one story has yet to be told. The final day of our journey — the walk to Matoso.

Our journey began 163 miles and 10 days away from Lalmba’s clinic – 10 days of blisters, amazing wildlife, rural communities, and beautiful people. But the reason we walked can be summed up in the last 6 kilometers, 6 kilometers I will remember vividly for the rest of my life.

We were all exhausted and in pain, but our steps were propelled with the knowledge that we had reached the end of our journey.  As we walked into Otho, the closest town to Matoso, we led the first camels to ever visit this area, and were met by Kawa, Lalmba’s public health manager. Driving Lalmba’s truck, he boldly announced to the entire village through a megaphone why we were there. He asked everyone to join us in our final steps, to walk with us in support of the poor, the people Lalmba serves.

I think more than anything that is why I feel so much passion for the work Lalmba does. Lalmba empowers people and it is truly a place of hope. Lalmba and the people we serve are one and the same.

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As we walked those last 6 kilometers, we were met by our Kenyan staff: nurses, clinicians, administrators, and local volunteers. Our entire walk came down to this one moment. We rounded a bend in the road and there they were. We were walking for them and they were walking with us. We marched, we sang, we cried tears of joy. As we approached the clinic, our band of walkers grew by the hundreds.  Children raced around us. People we have never met, many destitute with barely a shirt on their back, took our arms and guided us home. They welcomed us as family.

We had finished our walk and our pains were forgotten as we unloaded the camels one last time, took off our shoes, and dove into Lake Victoria. With hundreds of people lining the shores, and the laughter of children swimming with us, we washed off 10 days of dirt, emerged from the water, and saw the reason we walked. In the faces of the people around us we saw wonder, curiosity, and most of all hope. Hope for their community, hope for their children. It is for the children most of all that we walked. Their smiling faces made every step worth it. In this simple village half a world away, Lalmba’s supporters are making a real difference in the lives of a very poor and wonderful people. The people of Matoso asked me to bring back a message to you: A very heartfelt and sincere Thank You!

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From the Field

by Hillary James

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Atinafu stands proudly in front of his mud and straw house.

I want to tell you about Lalmba’s power to change lives, all rolled into one person.  Atinafu Gebre Yohanis was born in a small village a full day’s walk from Chiri, Ethiopia, where Lalmba runs a project.  Atinafu’s father died when he was a baby, and his mother died when he was 4.  When I ask him if he remembers his mother, he tells me, “I remember her smile.”

Living with an uncle, Atinafu realized at the age of 6 that he too had developed the tuberculosis that had killed his parents.  There was no treatment anywhere near his village.  His uncle had heard about this place called Lalmba where they could cure TB, and suggested Atinafu walk there. Little Atinafu, at 6, was deathly afraid of the forest through which he had to pass to reach Chiri.  But he steeled himself, picking market day to walk through the forest when more villagers would be on the road.  He told stories to himself along the way to keep himself from being too afraid.

When he arrived in Chiri, alone and clearly suffering from TB, the children’s director asked him where he could stay during treatment.  A distant uncle agreed to take Atinafu in for the extent of his treatment course, as long as Lalmba would buy his food.  Lalmba enrolled him in a meal program and gave him the treatment that would save his life.

After he returned to good health, he stayed on with his uncle, but school was not a possibility. They were too poor. Faced with the prospect of a lifetime of farming, again Atinafu contacted Lalmba, and he was enrolled in our children’s program, which paid for his school fees, books and uniforms.

Atinafu was a very clever student, scoring always in the top of his class. After graduating, he received a Lalmba scholarship to attend vocational training as a plumber.  He was then employed by Lalmba on the grounds crew, and later worked in the children’s program as a mentor for the orphans. Recognizing his dedication, his love for Lalmba, and his leadership potential, he was promoted to Assistant General Manager in Ethiopia.  He is now enrolled in a university degree program in a nearby city studying business management.

Atinafu saved his money, purchased a plot of land and built a simple mud and grass home.  But one day, he knows, a cement house will take its place. A few months ago while he was out of town, a thief broke into his room and stole all of his clothing, requiring him to empty his savings to buy new clothes, and delaying his plans for a solid home. Despite this setback, he continues to smile.

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When I came to visit with my family, Atinafu gifted each of us with decorative scarves.  How he laughed when he saw my daughter Chiri twirling in circles with her new scarf!  Why is it that those of us with the least in this world are often the greatest models of selfless generosity?

In this area where people spend hours walking where they need to go, it is common to strike up conversation with those walking around you.  Recently when I walked with Atinafu to a distant village, someone on the road asked him, “Where is your family from?”  His answer:  “My family is Lalmba.”

What would Atinafu’s story have been if Lalmba didn’t exist?  If he had not died of TB as a child, he certainly would not have gone to school and become the young community leader that he is today.   If you ever wonder if your support of Lalmba really makes any difference to actual people in rural Africa, we hope Atinafu’s story reminds you of the great power of this work.

Jeff & Hillary JamesLalmba News, The Christmas Edition, Vol. 52, No.5
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