The Meg School and the Sewing Collective

I was thronged by children the second I walked in. 30 four-year-olds in their "classroom" one the porch in one of Kigali's nicer buildings in a slightly shabby area. Gyslaine, from Global Grass Roots and her driver (whose name I could not quite catch) picked me up this morning. The driver carried stuff around (and that made me so uncomfortable!! And I appreciated the help at the same time since I had a 55lb bag of school supplies I was couriering over from the us. Perhaps, if I knew how to express my thanks it would feel less weird...) Gyslaine (pronounce jeeszlane) was my guide, emissary and translator extraordinaire!! (Especially at 8 and a half months pregnant!!) She introduced me to Evaliste (a man) as the children sang their English welcome song. Welcome visitor, Welcome visitor... there will be a recording of it online soon...for now I cannot quite upload.

I took the tour of the multi room school house and I met the 3, 4 and 5 year-olds. Each in a different room, each teeming with children, each with one teacher. Every child wore a uniform of yellow and blue poplin. Button-down color shirts (yellow shirt, blue collar) and blue shorts.

Then Evaliste, Gyslaine, the driver and I sat in Evaliste's office. He explained how all this came to be.

After our discussion, I walked to the adjacent building (and by adjacent, I mean an arms breadth away) and met the sewing women. 30 women from ages 20-48 being trained in two shifts...25 in the am and 15 in the pm. Not because this is good pedagogy (although, it is not bad...2 teachers to 15 students especially when the kids classes are one teacher for 30+ kids...) but because 1) there are only 15 sewing machines and 2) if all the women were there at once, who would watch their children.

I met three women-Marie (38), Marthe (31) and Celeste (20). 8 kids (Ages 20 to 4), 5 kids, 2 kids respectively. No husbands (Marie, married one year-her husband is away because he is a migrant farmer....). All former prostitutes. All still prostituting while training because how else will they earn an income? None of them want to do it. All said that all they want is to not have to anymore. All said that they want one thing for their kids; not this life.

In the six month training, they learn how to sew. They meet regularly with the folks from Global Grassroots who teach them about social issues, good hygiene, family planning and business planning.

The first class has just graduated and now they are forming their own collective. They fund-raised for one sewing machine and were donated 3 others. They need more. Each one cost only $150 dollars but that is well beyond what they can each dream of-yet each woman was asked to contribute 10,000 francs ($20) toward buying the one they purchased themselves. How they earned that money is unknown to me...Many simply were not able to come up with that kind of money.

The women made all the school uniforms. They make handbags which are sold in town for 3000 francs ($6) each.

Often the women are asked to provide their own materials for training. Some are unable to do so and they either watch or go home.

After speaking with all three women, I spoke with one of the teachers. He said what he really wants is to have enough funding for each woman to be supported during the training. ($3/day for 90 days...$180) (the whole class of 30 women for one day $90...for one week...$630...one month...$1800...the whole training...$5400...that is a bar/bat mitzvah project waiting to happen...) His wish is for the women to be truly focused here. They worry about how to support themselves. Sometimes they have to go home to take care of their kids. Sometimes they cannot come in because they have to work. And sometimes, they are just distracted by the pain of it all.

If you would like to help support them, (which I strongly encourage. A little bit goes so far here which feels really effective and powerful) please click here... Or if you want to specifically make arrangements to do direct giving of sewing machines etc, contact me by posting a comment about it and I will connect you to the right place!)

And I write to you sitting on a porch, a top one of Rwanda's 1000 hills (mille colinne-like the name of the hotel in Hotel Rwanda...like the name of EVERYTHING here except the Chinese restaurant which is called Flamingo oddly enough...) There is a storm to the west and the sun has just set through it. The sky I see is pink and rosy splattered with dark gray clouds. There is a little pale green salamander creeping by in the evening warm. The mosquitoes have not come on yet.

It is just too weird to see a world so touched and left by God all at the same time.