So, my active blogging has come to an end. Last night I returned home to the States, a tumultuously emotional process to be sure. While my trip may be over, my journey continues as I depart from my family in Nigeria. I have many things to sort out, and still more to learn as I process the things I've gained from Africa. I will continue to post blogs as a walk through my "re-entry."
Leaving Jos was emotional. The two days before I left were filled with tears, laughter and long moments of silence. I didn't want to leave, to be sure. The last two weeks have been filled with anxiety as I've thought about reintegrating back into my life, especially New York life. In actuality, it terrifies me.
When I first realized I was going to Africa, I thought I'd have a life altering experience. I thought it would be an emotional and spiritual high that transformed my life radically. I was expecting radical things. Nothing so radical happened, however. And as a reflect back, it's exactly what I needed. Throughout my short 26 years, I've had many mountain top experiences with God. It's like an emotional roller coaster, where my relationship with God is dependent mostly on my emotional state. There is very little stability in that. One moment you feel close to God, the next far away, and during that time you're commitment fluctuates. I live a life of distraction. I live in the most distracted city in the world, pulling my attention in a hundred different places. I work 60 hours a week, which pulls me away from my friends, community and passions. God becomes another "to do" on your daily schedule. I'm so used to "penciling" people in that I've resorted to penciling God in as well.
While I was in Nigeria, I experienced a different way to live. Jos is a community that does not thrive off of vanity like in the States. There are no billboards screaming at you, telling you how you fall short of "pretty" or "handsome." They don't have blocks and blocks of stores that scream "buy me, buy me." They don't have a commute that forces you to look up at the subway advertisements instead of looking your neighbor in the eye and saying a simple "good morning." America teaches us to disengage from others. And when we disengage from others, we inevitably disengage from God. My life had become one huge distraction.
While I was in Jos, I was forced to live differently. There were very few distractions. In most of Africa, you live life on the fringe. You have so little, and so you are forced to depend on religion, faith and God. There is very little structure in Nigeria. The government is makeshift at best, institutions go on strike weekly, there is little dependability with income and food. The only dependable structure that they possess is religion, their faith. They are forced to depend on God because it is what gives them hope.
In Nigeria, the humanitarians, those who fight for the poor, those who are generous with their possessions, those who are willing to accept them, even if they are HIV positive, are those with deep faith. Unlike in the States, where humanitarianism, equality, and acceptance seem to be defined limitedly in liberal ideals, in Nigeria they are the ideals of the religious leaders and the communities steeped in deep faith. Faith Alive carries no judgment. They accept everyone, despite where they are or where they've been. They love people, they treat people, and they give people hope. That is what Christ came to demonstrate, and that's how we are to model our lives.
In Nigeria I learned how to rely on God day by day in a way I have not been able to learn in America. I have learned the consistency of His presence, and the stability of my commitment. I've learned to live with God without distraction.
So you see why I'm terrified. I'm terrified of all the distraction. That I will go back to my life, and distraction will slowly pull me away from the things God has meant for me. That I will go back to living my life the way it has always been. I'm afraid I will slowly forget, not only the things I learned and saw while in Africa, but how to walk in faith without letting distraction overwhelm me.
And lastly I'm afraid of coming back to my life, and once again taking everything I have for granted. I have a phone, a nice computer, an ipod, a gym to work out in, a great job, a wonderful apartment, food in my fridge to feed a whole family. These are things that most people in Nigeria would fall to their knees and cry if they were ever given. Yet I find myself complaining. I want to value everything that I have as gifts, not as entitlement. I'm lucky, so freakin' lucky for the things and opportunities I have. And if I forget that, I not only do an injustice to my friends and family in Nigeria, but I disrespect myself and what I've been given. I have a responsibility now to do things differently, to see things differently. It's a burden and a blessing that everyone who experiences such poverty is forced to carry. And we have a responsibility to carry it for those we have come to love.
As I look back on my time at Faith Alive, and a reflect on the mission of the clinic, I am reminded of one of my favorite passages in the Bible:
Colossians 3:12-17:
Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
Faith Alive lives out this passage every day. Seeing these words come to life is like nothing I've ever experienced, and it compels me to live my life the same. That is my prayer and hope...
Updates
April 21, 2008
April 18, 2008
April 08, 2008
My Last Weekend In Jos
It’s rained most of this weekend. It’s been such a great change. The hot weather begins to wear you down after awhile, especially at night. I hate waking up in the middle of the night in a full out body sweat. The rain has cooled things down dramatically, and I actually use a sheet now to cover up when I go to sleep. But, with the rain come mosquitoes, so it’s a mixed blessing. I’m thankful for my anti-milarials. People in Nigeria get Malaria like we get the common cold. Thankfully they build up a slight immunity, so it’s not as severe as if I were to get it. That’s why young children are most affected by Malaria, their body has not yet learned how to fight of the parasite, so they become very sick and often die. Faith Alive has partnered with a great program that provides mosquito nets and chlorination tablets for water so that HIV positive patients can stay protected from mosquitoes that can communicate Malaria.
Friday after work a couple of our good friends here in Nigeria took Nikki and I out for palm wine, a Nigerian favorite. Palm wine is tapped directly from the palm tree and is already carbonated and lightly fermented, so it has a slight alcohol content. If you let it ferment another day, it loses some of it’s sweetness, but boosts the alcohol content, so you have to time it just right for how you like to drink it. The smell is gross, but the taste is mild with a hint of sweetness. For those of you who’ve tasted La Folie champaign beer from New Belgium, you have an idea of what it tastes like, but much milder. We tried it by itself, but the Nigerian way to drink it is by mixing it with Guinness stout. It was A-mazing. Along with are palm wine, we took goat and intestine pepper soup. I’ve never eaten intestines before, and I can’t say I’ll try it again. It tastes good, but it’s like overcooked octopus – tough and rubbery. The soup part was great, though. You have to try everything at least once, right?
On Saturday I attended the social services graduation ceremony. All the sewing, computer, knitting and art students graduated this week from their respective programs. It was really cool seeing the few of them that I knew well receive their certificates and rejoice for the amazing opportunity that Faith Alive had given them. It was a long ceremony, as everything is in Nigeria. But it was fun, and we had sodas and Nigerian doughnuts at the reception. It was a blast. I took a picture of blessing and the sewing class she teaches. Later that afternoon we helped scrub walls at Faith Alive, a task that was greatly overdue.
Graduation started off a really fun weekend. Later that evening Dr. Chris and the head of the Nigerian board at Faith Alive came over to the guesthouse to welcome the new team of volunteers from Fresno, CA. There are eight of them, and most will be here for two weeks. They are all very cool. After dinner Nikki and I met up with some friends and headed to an area of Jos, called West of Minds. It’s the local bar hangout area here in Jos, and we went because they make fresh Suya. Suya is thinly sliced beef that is encrusted with chopped peanuts, skewered and grilled. They season it with pepper powder and chop fresh onion with it. It was really good and spicy, and excellent with a cold beer.
On Sunday we attended the local church we go to here in Jos, for the last time. It was sad saying our goodbyes. They were all so grateful for our presence. I think that’s one thing I’ve really learned about my time here – the gift of presence. It’s amazing how much it means to people that you just show up. They see Americans as having everything. And they think, “Why would they want to come here when they have everything over there?” So they see our presence as a great sacrifice on our part, which is hardly true for someone selfish like me who has wanted to come to Africa for so long. It hardly feels like a sacrifice. Nonetheless, it is a great honor. We enjoyed a late lunch with the pastor. His mother, Hannatu, who works at Faith Alive, made us a great lunch of fish and chips with fresh cake for dessert. It was awesome, and we got time to visit with the family.
From there we headed back to Faith Alive where we spoke to the support group that gathers every Sunday afternoon. We thanked them all for their generosity and acceptance, and recounted our stories of our time in Nigeria. Starting to say goodbyes is hard, especially when I don’t want to leave.
For dinner that evening, our friend Rotimi invited us over for dinner at his parent’s house. We got to meet his sister, brother and parents. A true honor if you ask me, and they cooked us a fabulous meal of roasted yam and egousee soup. Roasted yam is the skin of yam; it is dried and pounded into a fine powder that is then hydrated. It’s very similar to pounded yam, but with more of an earthy flavor. There are many ways to prepare egousee soup, it’s made from melon seeds that are pounded into a paste, and you add various seasonings and other ingredients. This version had bitter leaf (you can also make it with pumpkin leaf), beans, and dried fish. And by dried fish, I mean the whole fish, dried and stewed. So you get the head, bones and everything. It tasted great, but maneuvering around the bones is tough. Nigerians eat the bones and skin, so they have an easier time of it. You eat the soup with your hands. You form a small bit of the yam into your hand, creating a dimple to hold the thick eqousee stew. Then you scoop it up and into your mouth. It was so much food, and I thought I’d explode. Food here is much hardier, so you don’t need as much to stave your hunger pains. Consequently, I’ve lost almost 10 lbs. since my time here.
As we made our way home, Rotimi flagged us a cab and we piled in with several other people we didn’t know. I was practically riding the stick shift. I laughed as a thought about how different it was than the NYC cab system, although gypsy cabs in Harlem have there interesting moments. We walked back to our guest house and I snuck away to eat one more piece of the corn cake that Hannatu made us for lunch, before heading off to bed.
March 26, 2008
Easter Weekend
I know I haven't posted in about a week now. The day after I gave my lecture I became sick (not malaria, thankfully). Today was my first day feeling somewhat “normal.” Despite my maladies, however, I was still able to enjoy the long Easter weekend, a four-day holiday here in Nigeria. We joke that Nigerians have far too many holidays (a consequence of balancing and pleasing the people of two separate religions).
On Friday Nikki and I went to the Jos museum shops. As we made our way to the individual shops, we could hear the loud buzzing of fruit bats in the mango trees above us. If you’ve ever been in the south when the cicadas are in full swarm, nesting in the trees, then you have some idea of the sound these bats make, only louder and deeper. The bats are huge. They are about the size of a crow, and they all hang from the mango trees, their sheer numbers bowing the limbs as they settle in for an afternoon nap. The bats will linger here for some time, at least until the mangoes are eaten and they must migrate onward to more fertile grounds.
The museum shops were very quaint. They are like little huts, scattered here and there along the trail leading to the history museum. They have all sorts of tribal apparel and gadgets that they sell. As we made are way through the shops, looking at the tribal masks and leather sandals, we came upon an old hut that was covered with paintings. The whole hut was full of oiled canvases, bright green and blues spattered up and down the rafters with deep, colorful hints of reds, oranges and purples. The woman had myriad interpretive collections - some very realistic, while others resembled the 
wide influences of Van Gogh and Monet. The paintings were truly beautiful. All of them were very dark, with a bright flourishing of color, as if life were springing off the canvases out of the darkness. I intend to make another visit to this woman’s shop before I leave and purchase a painting or two. Nikki pointed out my natural attraction toward the green and blue tones that tend to dominate my own paintings.
That evening we stopped by Blessings home and she made us vegetable soup with Semol (a starchy corn meal). It was fun watching her make the soup in her make-shift kitchen outside on the balcony. The soup was very good, and it was great seeing her and her boys.
On Saturday, our friend Rotex took us on a hike to Sherri Hills. Sherri Hills is a rock quarry on the edge of town, nestled up against the mountains that cradle the city of Jos to the West. We climbed a rock formation called Dogg Magog. Rotex couldn’t tell us what it meant, but it sounded menacing nonetheless. And it proved to be a pretty tough climb.
About an hour later, we reached the top. It was beautiful looking down at the city of Jos that spread out before us. Even with the dust and haze obscuring most of our view, it was still a wonderful site looking down on Africa from the heights of the mountains. I’ve pictured moments like this for many years now. And even though my sweat and aching hands took me out of the would-be “cinematic moment,” I still had an overwhelming feeling that I was living
some dream that has long awaited me. We lingered at the top for
some time, eating PB&J sandwiches and
enjoying the cool breeze that comes with higher elevations. We chatted for a while, talking about our families and our future dreams before making the trip back down the rocks where the van waited to take us back into the city.
On Easter day we were invited to Nurse Jane’s house, a woman that works closely with Dr. Chris as he consults with his 
patients. We sat in her home with her husband, three children and some family members. We sat back and played with the children as we enjoyed a warm African beer, a pastime I’ve grown to enjoy quite a bit. I forced myself to eat the food that Jane graciously prepared for us, even though my stomach was not in any place to be eating food. The meal was great, despite my queasy stomach.
Later that evening we met the medical students I lectured to last week. Dr. Chris gave them money to plan an Easter celebration at Faith Alive so that we could get to know the students, and we could also share a little about ourselves. This was another meal my stomach was demanding I turn down. But out of politeness, I forced myself to eat again, an action I came to regret later that night as I was doubled over the toilet, wishing I could throw up.
Our time with the medical students was really good, probably one of the most memorable moments so far. They asked us several questions, ranging from our educational background to our impressions of Nigeria and the culture. It was the first time I was able to formulate my thoughts into words.
I’ve lived in Harlem for three years now. I’ve grown accustomed to being a minority in a community dominated by African-Americans and Dominicans. So, coming here was not a far stretch from home. What I wasn’t aware of was that during those three years I have allowed the stereotypes of my community in Harlem to entrench my view of the true character of the global black community. Coming here, I was afraid of having nothing in common with the people of Nigeria, a fear that was quickly dissolved the moment I arrived. People here are so welcoming and so generous. A generosity I don’t see in the US, even in the church. I find that our common faith unites us, as well as our desire to serve those who are poor and under served. My racial interpretations and boundaries have been expanded, and in some sense dissolved. When I think of the friends I’ve made since I’ve been here, their skin color does not factor into my thoughts of them. In fact, you kind of forget about it after awhile. You only notice it when you see the random white person on the street, and you see how out of place they look.
My trip here was worth it merely for that discovery. The ability to see people through new eyes, being able to see what unites us and not what divides us or makes us different, is a gift I didn’t really expect to receive on my journey. But, it’s an unexpected pleasure that I am grateful for.
Monday I spent the day sleeping, recovering from the weekend and regaining some of my strength from being sick, trying to re-energize myself for another week of work. Thankfully I’m feeling better, and I’ve been able to get some things done on this nutrition project.
February 26, 2008
Saying goodbye
I was home this last weekend in Colorado, visiting friends and family. I was supposed to be down there for three days, but given my luck with flying, I was snowed in on Friday morning. My flight was rescheduled for late Saturday afternoon. I ended up having about 36 hours to see everyone I really needed to, saying my goodbyes before leaving for Africa.
I was also able to drive my Ford Ranger while I was home. Many of you here in the city may not know of my love for my little blue truck. It amazes me that after 3 years sans driving, I can still maneuver a stick shift like I never stopped. I don't really miss driving so much. In fact, I don't like to deal with traffic and crazy drivers. But, my truck has been with me for some big life changes. Driving it again brought a sense of nostalgia, bringing me back to the many hours I spent driving up and down the winding roads of northern Colorado, on my way to Wind River Ranch where I spent many summers. It brought back memories of the times I would take my truck out in Fort Collins to "think" - a clove cigarette in one hand and the other on the steering wheel. It made me realize that after three years of living in one of the toughest cities in the world, I'm still basically the same guy I've always been. Somehow I drew comfort from that as I soaked in the snow-capped Rocky Mountains.
In fact, the view was so amazing that I had to get out and take a couple snapshots with my new digital SLR camera. The picture above is one of them. Truly I have the most beautiful view of Pikes Peak that you could possibly imagine. This was taken just outside of my Aunt and Uncle's house. Breathtaking! I'm really loving my new camera. Even though I haven't had much of a chance to use it, I'm excited to bring it with me to Nigeria and really test it out.
Even though my short, 36 hour trip was exhausting, it was imperative that I go. Not only for my mother, who would have been heartbroken if she hadn't seen me before I left for Nigeria (bless her heart), but for me as well. I think distance from the people you call family, whether by blood or by kinship, forces you to overlook just how much you mean to them, and they to you. You forget how much people think the world of you. And while I'm really not much to talk about, people somehow still love me and support me. I guess that's what family is all about.
My trip home reminded me of something that I believe will be essential for my time in Nigeria: I am not only living my life for me, but I am also living it for the people who love me. I think we so often forget how our choices and actions affect those we love. And even though I must make choices that are right for me (which may, in times, conflict with those of my family), I must always be aware how those actions affect the people I love the most. Because inevitably, they will be affected.
I was also able to see my grandmother before I left. A few days ago she suffered two strokes. She's had a couple in the past, as well. Her middle cerebral artery is stenotic (very narrow). This means that the smallest piece of plaque could give her a massive stroke, leaving her in a comma. The doctor's have given her a very finite amount of time. Since I'm going off to Nigeria, I knew that I wouldn't be able to see her. Fortunately, I had a connecting flight in Dallas/Fort Worth. I had "the coolest" woman on the line when I called American Airlines to extend my layover. She was able to extend it to four hours, and she didn't even charge me. This gave me about an hour with my grandmother.
I was surprised at how well she could still talk. Although, she did doze off several times while we were talking. My grandma has always been very frail. I don't think I've ever touched her beyond the awkward hug whenever we'd go down to Texas for a visit. As she lay there in the hospital bed, I was able to hold her hand and brush my fingers through her hair. She hugged me tightly when I left, not wanting to let go. You should have seen her when she realized I was sitting next to her in bed. She turned into a giddy little school girl. She told me that it was the best surprise she's ever had.
We talked for about an hour. I let her talk mostly since she can barely hear, nodding in agreement so she would know I was listening. There were several things she said that will stay with me for the rest of my life. But, one thing she said I will carry with me, not only to Nigeria, but also to my pursuits in medicine:
"There are a lot of sad and hurting people in the world, Stephen. They all deserve love. All we can do for them is love them, and love them well."
As I prepare for my trip to Nigeria, I set those words as my guide. I will be faced with so much hurt and so much sadness due to poverty and disease. All I can do is try to love those I come in contact with. And love them well.
As I left I told my grandma that I loved her, and she said the same to me. My uncle Roger chimed in "How much do you love him, Mom?" And we all said at once "Ten bags full." Then my grandma said "because that's all the love there is." For those of you who don't know my family, my grandfather always used to say "I love you, ten bags full." It was the perfect way to say goodbye.
I am reminded of a quote by Mother Theresa: "We cannot do great things on this Earth, only small things with great love." She also once said: "I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." And that's what I hope to do - Love until it hurts (for surely it will if I love well).
So, in these last couple of days I will be saying goodbye to those I can, calling my sisters and family one last time, and seeing my friends in the city before I go. I'm excited for this journey. And I'm excited to share it with you all.
January 06, 2008
Blessings
In my last post I shared with y'all the story of Blessing. This is the update that I just received from my friend Nikki. If this doesn't send your heart soaring I don't know what will. God is truly awesome. It's such a beautiful and wonderful story. Your donations have made a new life for Blessing and her family. Here's the update:
I was going to wait to tell Blessing about the money until I had everything from you, but then I ended up seeing her the day I went to collect the wire from Tom. I was REALLY excited about it, but I thought, "No, no Nikki, just be patient." But then she went into this story about how a year ago she had had a dream - something where there was a white figure in her room that was talking and said to her, "You want to go to school? Then go with what you have." Remember when God tells Moses to go with what he has? I'm not familiar with the passage, but nonetheless, that was a year ago March, and the next day she went and prayed with her pastor about it and he said, "God will bless you."
The same day she opened a bank account, and she has been slowly adding to it ever since, even if it's just 100 or 200 Naira at a time. Just before Christmas she had saved up enough to pay for this exam that she has to register for to pass secondary school. She was telling me she didn't know how she was going to continue after she took the exam because she used all she had to pay for it. Then she said, "I just have faith it will work out, somehow."
On top of all that she told me one of her boys is going to secondary school next year, which is nearly triple the cost. I asked her how she pays for it, knowing she doesn't make very much. She said, "Whenever I get money from the shop I go straight to the headmistress and have her keep it for me, I just pay like that. She works with me because she understands."
So after all that I couldn't hold it in any longer, it was like everything in my spirit was saying TELL HER! So I told her the whole story, about Tom and about you, but I didn't tell her how much. She was already hugging me and thanking me before she even knew how much money it was.
So I asked her, "How much do you think it is? Like what is the largest amount you could imagine?"
She hesitated at first and then said, "15,000 (Naira)."
I laughed, and said, "Higher."
She was visibly anxious/excited, and said, "Nikki..."
I said, "No seriously, what is the most money you could ever dream of?"
She said, "60,000."
And then she bear-hugged me and buried her face in my chest, I started crying because I now knew just how big this was going to be for her.
I whispered in her ear, "150,000"
"JESUS!!!" she screamed and fell face first on the bed crying in the fetal position. I was balling like a baby of course (and am as I'm writing this). She ran out of the room shaking. When she came back in she hugged me so tight I didn't think she was ever going to let go. She was walking around like a caged lion. She couldn't stand still. She didn't know what to say. I told her about what you had said about her boys and their education, and then I chimed in about her dream and how God is doing something with her and through her. It was so powerful Stephen, so powerful. She's such a woman of integrity and unbelievable faith and strength.
She kept telling me that I came just for her. In many ways, I believe she's right. I told her I'm just the messenger. God has worked through so many other people, moved them to give, touched by her story. She couldn't believe that people would care so much about her. I said, that's how much God loves you, He loves you so deeply.
God has worked through all of you to provide for this woman beyond what she could even dream of, and in a tangible way has expressed His love for her. It gives a whole new meaning to dreaming big. God wants to bless all of us with more than we can imagine. How fitting that this woman's name is Blessing - a prophetic name that I'm sure will continue to change lives through the blessings y'all have shown her.
January 04, 2008
Updates on fundraising and many, many thanks...
Wow!!! I have truly been blown away by the generosity y’all have shown me. I am constantly humbled by how gracious God has been to me in this process of raising funds for Africa. God has blessed me tremendously through this process of going to Nigeria. God has provided nearly double the amount I needed for my trip. I have raised over $6,000 for Faith Alive. I'm really blown away by the responses people have had toward me and my trip to Nigeria. You, and others have given from the depths of your hearts, and I have a duty to carry that to the Nigerian people that need it most. I am honored to go forth and represent your generosity. Seriously, how cool is this? Here are two examples of how your generosity is already helping those in Nigeria:
Meet Ahmed, a man in his mid 40's with a wife and five kids. Ahmed has an extra-cranial tumor that's been growing on the back of his head for over ten years; it's a little larger than a grapefruit. Because of the positioning of the tumor, sores have started to develop; they break open and scab as the tumor continues to grow in size. Can you even imagine what his life might be like? Ashamed, embarrassed and depressed, Ahmed always wears an over-sized hat to cover his tumor. The surgery to remove this tumor is 50,000 Naira - that's about $400. While putting his five children through school, he's only managed to save 3,000 Naira. Your donations have helped pay for this mans surgery. My good friend Nikki Burks was able to meet this man. This is what she said:
He looked like he had given up. It was written all over his face - knowing he needed the surgery, yet with no hope in sight. He came to the clinic faithfully everyday to have the wounds dressed and lab work drawn. Each time I saw him he would say, “God bless you, thank you.” Then exactly one week later I was standing over him in the operating room, watching as the doctors removed the tumor that had plagued him for so long. When I went to visit him post surgery, it was like meeting a totally different person. Not so much because of his now absent mass, but because of his spirit. Something in him was now alive where it wasn't before. He was grinning from ear to ear. And it wasn't until that moment that I realized I had never once seen him smile.
Another family your money is helping is that of a Nigerian woman named Blessing. Blessing's mom left her when she was young, forcing Blessing to live with her step-mom and her grandmother. She said they brought her up in anger, hatred and fear. She didn't know of love (those are her words). She was forced to marry at 15 to a man she didn't know. After that she had children - two boys, and a year before her husband died she found out he was HIV-positive. After he died, her husband’s family kept her boys and kicked her out of the house. With no money and no home, she came to Faith Alive where she lived in transitional teen housing, learned to sew, and started Antiretroviral treatment for HIV.
She says she just wants peace with her husband’s family. She didn't want to fight with them. She prays that God will help her take back her children without causing conflict. She says that the first love she ever knew was from God. All she wants is to provide a better life for her boys. She wants them to go to school, something she was unable to do herself.
On her current salary she's not able to afford secondary school for her boys. She said she makes about 1,000 Naira a week. That's about $10. What she would like to do is go to school and get a higher paying job to provide for her boys. Right now she has her own sewing shop where she teaches other HIV-positive women to sew. She has to pay her shop rent, house rent, food, school fees and books for her boys. Here are Blessing’s rent fees translated into dollars: shop rent - $290/year, house rent - $250/year. And, the cost for her to go to school is about $500 for three years. Adding up just what it would cost for her to go to school and pay her rent for three years time is $1,250. The surplus in my fundraising will go to Blessing and her children. Not only will her children be able to go back to school, but she will be able to as well.
How amazing will it be to send her kids to school and provide them an opportunity to go on to become doctors, or government officials that will bring about change in Nigeria, or teachers that will change the face of the next generation in Africa. It gives me chills thinking about it.
My journey has already begun, and I’m not even in Nigeria yet. I leave March 1st, and I’m so excited. I can’t thank all of you enough for all your prayers and support. It has been such an encouragement to see my friends and family rally behind me to realize my dreams and help those most in need.
