Better Citizens

Nov. 5, 2008 – Today I drove from Addis Ababa to Bantu where Buckner/Bright Hope recently opened a school for the children ages 4-7 living in this rural farming community. David stayed at the Baby Home with Yanet and Amy was home sick.

As we drove out of the smog-filled streets of Addis and into the open roads of the Ethiopian countryside, it was like the heavens opened up on us. The sky was bright blue with giant cotton ball clouds. The land was shades of green and brown, crops harvesting in open fields. The houses transformed from corrugated-tin shanties to grass and mud huts. It was beautiful and unlike anything I've ever seen before.

As we turned onto the road to Bantu (26 kilometers of bumpy dirt roads), we started seeing more and more people walking barefoot on the roads. Some were riding in horse-drawn carriages and others carrying large bales of crops on their backs. The Bantu community would be considered one of Ethiopia's poorest. Nebiyou Tesfaye, the project coordinator for the Bantu school, said the people earn about $11 a month. Most of the children who attend the school are orphans living with grandparents or relatives.

"We are the ones who provide them with food, showers, soap, drinking water, clothes, shoes, everything," he said. There are 200 children at the school, learning everything from math to English. And all the teachers have their bachelor's degree and will remain with the students up until the eighth grade.

When I walked into the first classroom, all the children immediately stood up behind their desks and smiled at me, all neatly dressed in their green and blue uniforms. I said, "Hello, are you doing today?" And they all responded in unison. "Fine, thank you. How are you?" I was so shocked at how well they knew English! It had only been three weeks since they started class. Their teachers are obviously doing a wonderful job. Some students were receiving polio vaccinations and vitamins from the nurses on staff at the school.

After their morning classes were over, all of the children lined up single file with their hands on each other's shoulders. They would walk like this through the mud to the dining hall where they would each receive their largest meal of the day – a bowl of rice.

Marta Admasu, the principal of the school, explained, "We are experiencing great happiness at this time. The children have food, soap, shoes, toothbrushes, clothing. Because of this, they feel very happy."

After lunch, the students were released to go home. They hung around the gates waiting for me and Nebiyou to leave. As I stepped outside the school's gates and began the quarter mile hike in the mud back to the truck, the children swarmed me. They were probably 50 children fighting to hold my hand, following me down the road and pointing me in the direction of least muddy resistance. I thought, "This must be what it's like to be a celebrity." They were fascinated with me. It made me wonder how many "ferengs" they've met before. (Fereng in Ethiopia means white person.)

Today, Tegist Tesema told me that their plan is to enlarge the school with more classrooms and more teachers. They also hope to build a guest home nearby so American mission teams can stay near the school for ministry. "It's a peaceful place," she said. "Good for meditation." And she's right. Bantu is beautiful. The people are beautiful. And now they have opportunities unlike ever before. It is the school's ultimate goal for every child to go to college.

"These students, we give them hope," Nebiyou said. "When we provide them with a good education, I know they will be better citizens. They will be self sufficient."

- Jenny Pope