One Story

                 Before dawn breaks the prayers begin from the Muslim mosques.  Around six the sounds of traffic begin to emerge.  Some crickets are still croaking, a hundred different birds are singing, monkeys are screaming, cows are calling, insects are humming, dogs are barking.  The smell of burning bundles already wafts through the windows which are never closed.  By seven the whole place is alive. Roosters are crowing. Drums are sounding.  Mothers are calling.  Children are playing and preparing for school.  Merchants are rolling carts or riding bicycles to their shops.  Boys are leading their goats and cows to pasture.  Drivers are sounding horns as warning signals.  Trucks pass through the city blasting various commercials to attract consumers.
                Just an ordinary morning in Mwanza, a city of about one million people in northern Tanzania. It cannot be compared to any place in America.  The sights, sounds, smells, are all unique, all part of another environment, another culture.  It’s filled with life and in many cases the life is filled with difficulties.  Here’s one story:

Her name is Mwameni, a mother of three.  Her oldest son Juma is 5 years; the next, Joseph is 3 years; and the youngest, a girl Buya, is 1 year and 5 months.  Most days Mwameni works at a rice factory where it is dirty and dusty.  She also tries to earn some extra money sometimes by carrying luggage for people or digging.  Her husband of ten years died when the baby daughter was just 5 months old so she has to earn a living somehow.  She is one of the fortunate who found a job.  Today Mwameni is at home because her baby has been sick for four days already, no energy and not eating.  It may be malaria or something else.  Unfortunately Mwameni has no money to take Buya to the hospital for examination.  As she sits in the 5x6 ft mud room she tells of her struggle to pay the rent, having to sell a prized radio that belonged to her husband, perhaps the only cherished thing that remained.  Buya sits quietly in Mama’s arms, innocent and helpless, as her mother tries to decide what action to take. Mwameni herself is not well.  She oftens coughs a lot due to her working conditions.

                Just one story, but one that could be repeated a thousand times in a thousand places and still be true.  Life goes on, it has to go on as long as there’s breath. However, for some people the pictures becomes a little brighter when someone from another country, a richer country, decides to open his or her heart and give a little.  That little can make the difference between sitting helpless with a sick child or taking her to a doctor for help.  It can change the “ordinary” by shining a little bit of hope!