On August 26th, my daughter had her very first day of school. She wore a new outfit, helped me fill her lunch bag with wholesome, nutritious food, and carried her new backpack. Getting her into school required nothing more than paperwork. Primary education will lead to secondary education, which will lead to post-secondary education and quite likely a fulfilling career in an area of her choice.
For our girls in Kenya, the path to education is much more complicated and the stakes are higher. With the requirement of school fees for both primary and secondary levels, those families unable to pay are faced with having to hire off their daughters as house help or to marry them off as a second or third wife, often times to an older man, and often to an abusive environment. These girls, at the age of 12 or 13 years old, don’t necessarily have the mature bodies required to bear children, leaving them and their babies at risk of health complications and maternal/infant death.
The comparisons between Western and developing countries, some would argue, are unjust as the context is so widely different. Perhaps so, but as I watched my own daughter enthusiastically step out of the house, as I watched her greet her teacher, and as I watched her interact with her new little friends, it struck me how uncomplicated her and our worlds are, as a female child and as her parents.
Our TCP girls have an opportunity to escape those complications. Their smiling faces in the photos we receive are an indication of the hope and potential they hold within. But they can’t do it alone. Where we recognize it takes a village to raise a child, in some contexts, such as this one, that village can extend to our homes.