Training under the Trees
The Saradidi (pronounced Saradeedee) community is about an hour and a half drive from Kisumu, heading north and then west, skirting the lake. Lake Victoria lies silent just a mile away at the bottom of the rise. Our mission today is to meet with about 70 community health workers (CHWs) for their sixth weekly session of counseling training. These women, who come from near and far, are amazing. They're simply wives and mothers who elect to volunteer their time to their community, learning about health and mid-wifery and counseling, dispensing medicines and advise and care to their neighbors. I shouldn't say they are "simply wives and mothers" because being a woman in Kenya is not simple. Plus, two of the "students" are men. What these women (and two men) are doing for their neighbors is quite extraordinary. Several of them have babies, from 3 to 5 months old, and they bring them along to the training, nursing them when necessary and passing them to a friend when it's their turn to role play.
One child is exceptionally cute at three months and I can't resist putting my finger in his firm grip. "What's his name?" I ask. "Dan Keseje," she says. At first I think I've heard wrong and I ask again. Again she says, "Dan Keseje." Dan is the director of TICH and this woman hasn't just named her child "Dan," she's named him "Dan Kesege." This child's name is testament to Dan's dedication to rural communities and their acknowledgement of his hard work.
In groups of four, the women (and two men) prepare for their role play by selecting a problem one of their neighbors might have. Sitting under the trees in the churchyard, they prepare and gossip and laugh easily. Then they practice their counseling skills in front of the trainers, who are my co-workers from TICH. The ladies speak English and Kiswahili and Luo, and even though I can't always tell what they're saying, I always want to stand and applaud their magnificent acting skills. I want to yell "Bravo!!" These ladies can act!! And I think it's a shame they're in a place a Hollywood director would never look for talent.
And what common problems are found in these remote Luo villages? Well, a mother-in-law dislikes her new daughter-in-law, who has been dumped at the family home by the son/husband, who works in Kisumu. The new daughter-in-law eats too much food and doesn't share any of the monies her husband sends home. There's also the woman who has been married for five years but has not become pregnant. Her husband beats her regularly and threatens to take a second wife, who will surely produce a son for him. They are commended by their trainers for picking such real issues.
Next Week, the ladies will again congregate at the Saradidi Church. They'll bring their packed lunches and one or two live chickens whose feet are tied together. They'll throw the chickens into a corner of the sanctuary and will then spread their colorful pieces of cloth under a shade tree, where they'll sit and gossip and laugh easily. They'll take the written exam, the culmination of their training. And if they pass, they'll receive a certificate proclaiming them to be professional counselors. I suspect these women, and two men, are already excellent counselors. And I know they are gifted actors, every one!
One child is exceptionally cute at three months and I can't resist putting my finger in his firm grip. "What's his name?" I ask. "Dan Keseje," she says. At first I think I've heard wrong and I ask again. Again she says, "Dan Keseje." Dan is the director of TICH and this woman hasn't just named her child "Dan," she's named him "Dan Kesege." This child's name is testament to Dan's dedication to rural communities and their acknowledgement of his hard work.
In groups of four, the women (and two men) prepare for their role play by selecting a problem one of their neighbors might have. Sitting under the trees in the churchyard, they prepare and gossip and laugh easily. Then they practice their counseling skills in front of the trainers, who are my co-workers from TICH. The ladies speak English and Kiswahili and Luo, and even though I can't always tell what they're saying, I always want to stand and applaud their magnificent acting skills. I want to yell "Bravo!!" These ladies can act!! And I think it's a shame they're in a place a Hollywood director would never look for talent.
And what common problems are found in these remote Luo villages? Well, a mother-in-law dislikes her new daughter-in-law, who has been dumped at the family home by the son/husband, who works in Kisumu. The new daughter-in-law eats too much food and doesn't share any of the monies her husband sends home. There's also the woman who has been married for five years but has not become pregnant. Her husband beats her regularly and threatens to take a second wife, who will surely produce a son for him. They are commended by their trainers for picking such real issues.
Next Week, the ladies will again congregate at the Saradidi Church. They'll bring their packed lunches and one or two live chickens whose feet are tied together. They'll throw the chickens into a corner of the sanctuary and will then spread their colorful pieces of cloth under a shade tree, where they'll sit and gossip and laugh easily. They'll take the written exam, the culmination of their training. And if they pass, they'll receive a certificate proclaiming them to be professional counselors. I suspect these women, and two men, are already excellent counselors. And I know they are gifted actors, every one!
posted by Cindi at 9:38 AM
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