Hope

Lesotho has the third highest HIV prevalence in the world.  Just under one in four people in the country are living with HIV.  These statistics are astonishing, and they are real.

When Bloom’s founder, Andrew Steele, went to Lesotho in 2009, he met a small boy named Kopano.  Kopano was the youngest brother of Tiisetso, a teenage boy full of personality.  At the time, Kopano was a typical four year old boy, laughing and smiling at all of the world’s simplicities.  When Andrew lived in southern Africa in 2010-2011, he got to visit Kopano’s family a few times and grew closer with them.  He ate with them, did laundry together, and simply spent time in their company.  At this point, Kopano was older and he was now visibly sick.  He was not growing like a normal boy should.  His grandmother, Rose, thought that he was HIV positive, but could never get him diagnosed correctly because she could not afford the taxi fare to the hospital.

Andrew and Rose during one of the visits

Andrew knew he had to do something.  He turned to the non-profit that he started for this purpose.  What could Bloom do to help Kopano?  Bloom Africa began working with our local partners and funded the taxi fare for Rose to take him to Baylor AIDS Clinic in the capital city, Maseru.  We also made sure to cover the fees associated with the doctor’s visit.  During Kopano’s visit, the doctors found out he was not HIV positive, and was receiving medication for HIV positive adults by mistake, something that also made him sick.  Instead, Kopano was severely malnourished.  The startling, but actually somewhat positive news was enough to give Rose the motivation to make sure he becomes well.  We helped with getting basic food staples for Kopano and his family so they wouldn’t deal with severe malnutrition again.  We also gave Rose a small loan to start selling snacks in order to create a profit making operation to allow a sustainable income for food.

Kopano

Mosa Makutsoane, a Bloom Africa board member and Lesotho native, grew up in the capital city of Maseru.  She went to Roma, Lesotho, in September to check in on a few of Bloom’s projects.  Roma is where Rose, Tiisetso and Kopano live.  While Mosa was there, she got the chance to see Kopano and his grandmother, Rose.   After hearing Rose’s story again, she told Mosa that “taking Kopano to Baylor literally saved his life.” 

Mosa with Kopano and his friend

In an email to Bloom members about that day, Mosa said, “It’s one thing to hear how well he is doing, but to see how rejuvenated and amazing he’s looking is too good.” 

This is the best news that Bloom could have hoped for.  As we search to find the healthiest partnerships and ways to make our greatest impact, we come across certain scenarios that require action.  This was one of them.  We hope for a future where there is no need for our assistance in this way.  But for now, when we can, we will ensure children aren't suffering or losing their lives to preventive causes.  And to know that Kopano is now a healthy and happy boy gives us immense joy, happiness and appreciation.

Drought Leaves Many Hungry For Help

True hunger is something that I have never experienced. I have never wondered when I would eat next, or if I would eat again. It’s hard to imagine what actual hunger is, or how it feels. Food is not something I have had to fear of not having. I have been blessed in excess, which overwhelms me with guilt and sadness when so much suffering exists in a place I keep so close to my heart.

After two sequential crop failures from drought, 725,000 Basotho have been left fighting hunger. The United Nations World Food Programme (WFP) reported that maize production is down 77%, and wheat harvest is down 52% from last year causing a crisis within the mountain kingdom of Lesotho. Food prices have escalated 33% for both maize and wheat, limiting much of the population which includes the 48% of Basotho children suffering from chronic malnutrition (WFP).

Rose Masaba, with peaches she grew and stored in the summer months.
With a depleted garden, these peaches have become her family's main source of food.

It is not as simple as creating a budget for a grocery list, or occasionally abstaining from a meal to cut back on spending. Luxuries like that are not fathomable for an abundance of people living in Lesotho. Many Basotho rely on their own food supply to care for their family, and lack the resources to do otherwise.  Countless people living solely on their own food production are also lacking resources to feed livestock, causing even more of a devastation among those left without options.

It is difficult to not feel discouraged by such circumstances, especially when I have so much. How can I fight this injustice, and find an end to hunger in Lesotho? Even small changes can make a difference. Everyone can choose to be a thoughtful consumer, think about what you are purchasing, don't overeat, and be grateful for what you have. Raising awareness is fundamental. Visit the Bloom Africa webpage, get involved, become educated, and speak up.

-Willie

Willie is serving as an intern for Bloom Africa.

The Little Things

It’s impossible to describe to other people how much an experience like spending a month in Lesotho, Africa can change you.  It was one of the most remarkable experiences I have ever had.  I like to think that it changed my outlook on life and helped me figure out where my priorities really lie.  There are four words that truly describe my experience: Sunglasses, Cement, Photography and Thabo.

Sunglasses.  Every morning we would walk to breakfast and there were about twenty children who would be there to greet us.  They would wait at the gate to the Trading Post where we stayed.  Sometimes they had notes for their “friend”, other times they would just call out our names (mine was Savaaaaannah).  Towards the end of our trip, we gave small gifts to our friends, so that they would have something to remember us by.  One of the things that we brought to share with them was sunglasses.  The happiest I saw the kids that stood outside of the gate was the day that we handed out those sunglasses. As sad as it was to leave them, we learned a very important lesson that day: that sometimes the littlest things can bring others immense joy.

Cement. The work that we did in Lesotho had a purpose.  We wanted the Basotho to be able to use what we built in the future so that they would have food and hopefully make a profit off of some of our projects. Some of the things we built included: chicken coops, green houses, a wedding garden, a piggery, a rabbit hutch, planted fruit trees, built raised gardens, just to name a few things.  A lot of the projects involved cement.  Since I had made cement prior to the trip, I was the “cement girl”.  If there needed to be cement made, I was on the team to do it.  I wouldn’t change a thing about it, we worked incredibly hard to get everything done in a timely manner, and every time we exceeded what Dr. Rosenberg expected of us.

Photography. In Lesotho, there is beauty in everything: not only the breath taking landscape, but in every person that we encountered, especially in the children. Photography is the way that I share what I learned and how I felt with other people.  I did not have a problem finding beauty to take photos of.  I ended up taking around 5,000 pictures.  But each photo evokes a different memory.  At this point, my only regret is not taking MORE photos.  I truly believe you can never take too many photos.

Thabo. The first place we worked was called LCCU, Lesotho Child Counseling Unit.  The first day there, I met a 5-year-old Basotho boy who did not speak any English. Even through the language barrier, we managed to get to know each other through a game we would play with each other. First, I would blow in his ear and he would giggle.  After a few days, he would start to do it to me too and like any child, it never got old to him.  We continued to do it every day.  We ended up having to go back to LCCU later in the month and when I saw him, he knew exactly who I was.  How incredible is it to have a bond with a person that you can barely communicate with? I’ll never forget Thabo, my little joy.

When the opportunity arose to intern at Bloom, I realized I needed to do more and get involved again. Life gets busy, it’s hard to be involved when the cause is millions of miles away. But when I realize what is really important and what I will remember ten years from now, it will be that I helped an organization with amazing people and all for a greater purpose.  I’ve only been working for Bloom for a month and I already know that I want to go back to Lesotho and I’ll do whatever it takes to get me there.

-Savannah Guyer

Savannah is currently an intern with Bloom Africa and a student at Wittenberg University.

The Place That Still Keeps Half of My Heart

 I could have never predicted that a place so foreign would change so much inside of me.  It still amazes me that in one short month my life was shaken by the Mountain Kingdom of Lesotho.

                I had the opportunity to travel to Lesotho in the summer of 2011 with Wittenberg University. When I asked fellow students about their past experiences, they had trouble finding to words to explain how life-changing it was. They lit up with excitement talking about their trips and their love for a place they spent such a short time in.  I had trouble understanding why it was so difficult for someone to explain how it changed their life. Looking back, nothing could have prepared me for the vast emotions I would feel, and now I too struggle with expressing how one short month changed me forever. 

                When I first arrived in Lesotho, I felt like I was placed in another universe. I was completely immersed in the culture and in awe by its beauty.  The sky looked as if it painted with watercolors behind the mountains. Cattle were herded across the countryside by young boys wrapped in brightly colored blankets. On the roadside, men and women purchased grain from small shops made from scraps of metal sheet and barrels. As we drove past, the Basotho people smiled and waved excitedly. I felt so welcomed, at home, and at peace. 

                Lesotho tested me more physically, spiritually, and emotionally than anything before. I have never shed so many tears or shared so much laughter. There were moments I felt like I could accomplish so much, and times where I felt like there was no hope. At times I grew angry, and numb. But, with every negative emotion, I met someone who made me overwhelmed with joy.  I made many new friends among the community while doing self-sustainability projects. It was incredible working side by side, moving toward a common goal. The common goals allowed an opportunity to see similarities between people who live in such different circumstances. I have never laughed so much, or fell in love so quickly with a community. But between moments of laughter, there were moments of sadness and anger. It was difficult to face the realities that were present in such an unbelievably beautiful place. Innocent people across Lesotho were, and still are, dying from AIDS.  Many Basotho do not have transportation, let alone access to healthcare or education. Lesotho's complex social and political beliefs make it difficult for change. I could not fathom how this injustice was going on when I was so blessed with what I had at home. I knew in the back of my mind that extreme poverty was in the world, but actually being within it gave a whole knew meaning to its existence. I felt selfish, and undeserving of anything. It was times like this that I felt defeated and hopeless. But when I watched and listened to people who were suffering, they were so strong and resilient.  During a time when I questioned my faith, and entire existence, I couldn't understand how innocent people were joyful of life despite being sentenced to a painful death. I admired such optimism. The community is truly a family in Lesotho, and although there may be suffering, there is support. Life is to live through other people.

                The Basotho are the strongest, most independent, and beautiful people I have ever met. They have so much hope and love.  Lesotho taught me how special life is, and despite what life may hand you, it is up to you to live it. My mind and heart never battled so much in my life, and because of that I am forever changed. The Basotho people gave me more than I can express. I am so thankful to them. A piece of me still lies in Lesotho, and always will.

-Willie Duffy

Willie is currently an intern with Bloom Africa and a junior at Wittenberg University.

 

Looking back, looking forward: The faces and hands that stole my heart

In the summer of 2011, I had the opportunity to join over thirty of my fellow Wittenberg students for a month-long service trip to Lesotho. As many before me have said, it is an experience that is almost impossible to put into words. Each time I reflect, my mind wanders to a different element of the experience. The work was hard, but as we drove by fields and homes on our way to the day’s worksite, I saw men and women–small children even–bent over at their own work. The drive every day told the same story: to Morija, Maseru, Motsekua, Roma. Everywhere we looked, the Basotho were tending to their fields; feeling the strain in my muscles, therefore, was my own personal way of honoring those who are chained to that unyielding earth day after day in the struggle to get by.

The plains, the skies, the mountains: everything brought me back to the people I met there. When I sit under that great sky, surrounded by the Maluti mountains, I realize the enormity of the universe, the seemingly infinitesimal space my being holds They bear witness and struggle on. In the face of unimaginable suffering, kicking a soccer ball, showing me a pair of hand-crafted wire glasses, looking up at my face–somehow brings a smile to theirs. As I sat wrapped in a blanket under the endless expanse of stars at the Ramabanta trade post, nestled high in the mountains, I was shown the brilliance of each seemingly tiny light–whether stationary in the sky or hurtling toward the earth. Each of the people, especially the children, who I was lucky enough to meet are just like those stars. They are so small, easily overlooked by those with a provincial mindset; they are the faces all too often forgotten. But the trip showed me these children, and I witnessed sights that caught my eye and brought a knot to my throat, as a tiny hand stole over my heart.for this moment in time. But the people I met are indeed magnanimous.

Khothatso, my thirteen-year-old mokhotsi, (friend,) is the owner of that hand. I got to know him and his baby brother during the weeks we stayed at Thorns in Roma. There is so much life, so much vigor in his tiny frame! His eyes are old and deep; they seem to hold the secrets of the universe and wisdom far beyond their years. One evening as we walked down the street, holding hands as I held his brother in my other arm, he rattled on excitedly about his future, his schoolwork, and the letters we’d exchanged that day; my mind settled on the only way I knew how to capture those eyes: un mundo en sus ojos, “a world in his eyes.” I walked in silence, amazed. The boy clasping my hand whose face was hunger-stricken, full of pain and beauty, smiled up at me as he gave me these precious moments that have changed my life. The boy hugging tightly to my other arm, with legs wrapped around my waist, is only one of the millions born dying.

So the trip, which started out being focused on work and service, ended up being focused on people. The other students and I were motivated each day to complete our work to give as best as we could to the people that were moving our hearts and changing our lives. The little voices outside the gate at Thorns, the faces that peeped around the brick wall each time we walked by became the center of our world there. The calls of “shoot me! Shoot me!” were ceaseless; therefore, the picture-taking was endless. And each time one of us would capture the flitting of these little bodies in our rectangular frames, the camera would be torn from us by the tiny hands clamoring to see what the box would show: their own faces. This aspect of the trip, then, aligned very well with one of our intended tasks; we showed these children their own faces in the pictures we took, just as we endeavored to show the Basotho through our work tasks the power they have within to help themselves.

In looking back, I notice that the children of Lesotho embody one of my favorite quotes: “happiness cannot be pursued; it must ensue” (Viktor E. Frankl). The “pursuit of happiness,” a goal so widely sought after by many in the United States, is not dependent upon the things in your possession, the degree attached to your name, or the measure of the fame you’ve accrued. I saw happiness in the giggles and full-belly laughs that escaped in white wisps into the frigid morning air, in the warmth of community that held the cold at bay, in the bond I formed with those who were on my trip. I saw happiness on the mouths bent into grins, in the smiling eyes that glistened with an indescribable power. I felt happiness in the squeezes of the tiny hands that yearned to hold mine as we ran, in the excited elbow nudges from kids successfully scrambling to take the soccer ball from my significantly less-practiced feet. I felt the happiness in my own heart as I looked at these faces, as I looked up at those Ramabanta stars.

This happiness fills me even as I write this, in thinking of my past experience and in looking forward. I have the wonderful opportunity of accompanying Dr. Rosenberg and another set of around thirty Wittenberg students to Lesotho this winter. I am so looking forward to spending my holidays giving back to the people who have changed my heart and changed my life. I can’t wait to experience the wonder, the amazement, the beauty all over again and to see a new set of students as their minds churn, their views shift, and their lives change. I am looking forward to the happiness that no one can buy.

Khotso, Pula, Nala.

Kali

Kali Almdale is approaching her final year at Wittenberg University, where she is pursuing degrees in Biology and English.  Kali traveled to Lesotho in June of 2011.

We Are One, We Are Basotho

It’s True, Sechaba ke poho (power lies in the nation). More than ever before has this phrase become so relevant and at the heart of many Basotho. Of course not everyone believed it to be true, well not until recently. The phrase has always been used during political campaigns with very few really questioning what it entailed.  I believe that in the first half of 2012, the political situation in Lesotho gave definition to “the power rests within the people.”

There is a first time for everything.  This year’s elections, unlike previous years, were very different. Reasons as to why they were different are many, but I'll simply make reference to the realization by Basotho that power lies in us. For the first time, pre and post election time was peaceful. For the first time, the youth was actively involved throughout the entire electoral process. For the first time, elections in Lesotho were internally and externally  regarded as free and fair. For the first time, technologies and social media were used effectively bringing awareness across borders of election news and messages. For the first time, a coalition government is formed and governs Lesotho. For the first time, rather than dividing people, our political parties have united Basotho. And for the first time ever, a leader  voluntarily steps down, giving up all powers as head of state.

Sechaba ke poho!   

Lesotho has always been politically divided since independence,  and this  has resulted in the vast disintegration of Basotho. For years, employment, educational opportunities, friendships, social status, etc., were all dependent on what political party won and was favoured.. The divisions caused tensions, instability, demoralization, prevented development, and essentially the perplexity of who Basotho are.

The Basotho culture is established upon the grounds of unity. There’s a Sotho proverb that says Lefu la noha ke ho tsamaea e le ngoe, (the death of a snake is the result of its solitude.) The message is that individualism kills. Another proverb says Letsoele le beta poho, (unity is victory.) These and many other proverbs encouraging unity have been passed down from generation to generation. Our single ethnic identity and language reinforce the union of Basotho and what can be achieved when we are in union.

Sechaba ke poho.

The journey has only begun for Basotho. My hope is that the recent actualization, that power for change does not lie in individuals, remains.  And after these elections, I hope that collectively within the nation, the unity between Basotho continues to prevail.

  

Khotso.Pula.Nala.

Peace.Rain.Prosperity.

Mosa Makutsoane

Mosa was born in Hlotse, Lesotho, and is finishing her final year of undergraduate studies pursuing degrees in Environmental Science and International Studies. 

Being Changed by Being in Lesotho

My experience in Lesotho, Africa can be described in the very least, as a life-changing experience. I know that I am not alone in returning from the Mountain Kingdom completely changed after living in there for just a month. In this short time period, I was completely immersed in a new culture, language and place. Completely exposed to new people, lifestyles and concepts I had the opportunity to learn so much, not just about Lesotho but about myself as well. When I was accepted into the 2011 Wittenberg in Lesotho program, I had no idea what to expect. Ironically, the only, yet best advice I had ever received before going was, “Have no expectations and keep an open mind”. By hearing the passion and emotion other students had while talking about their experience made it near impossible to not have any expectations. Having never left the country before, I knew this trip would have a heavy impact on my life. I was not sure how it would affect my life or why it would if it did; the only thing I knew for certain was that Lesotho, Africa was going to be the most memorable experience of my life.

After arriving in Lesotho, it did not take long to notice the breathtaking scenery of the Mountain Kingdom.  We arrived in a small rural community, encompassed by mountains and landscape. It was impossible to take my eyes away from the window on our long bus rides to our work sites. At first I started taking as many pictures as possible, just to reaffirm that I was actually there. However, it was not long before I noticed that the picture I just took was nothing compared to the feeling of actually being there. Whether it was watching boys herd cattle down the road, looking out over the whole town at the top of a mountain, seeing women carrying their babies wrapped tightly in blankets, or star gazing in the middle of night, there was something serene and peaceful about just being in Lesotho. Lesotho’s atmosphere was unlike anything I had ever felt, and despite being on the opposite side of the globe, I had never felt more at home.

The majority of my days spent in Lesotho were at various work sites around Maseru, Roma and Morija. We painted classrooms, built shelving units, a green house, piggery and chicken coop, planted trees outside of a school and orphanage and built two playgrounds. These projects we completed were specifically chosen, as they can be self-sustained by the Basotho and have long term effects. They were intended to help sustain a healthy and happy life and to empower the Basotho. As a unit we were dedicated to our cause in helping these organizations accomplish whatever they needed. And although the work may sometimes have gotten tedious or exhausting, no one ever complained. Laughter and smiles were never absent at the work sites and it enabled us to grow closer to one another and to the Basotho we were working side by side with. By the time I left each work site, the visible progress of our work was extremely self-fulfilling. It was an amazing feeling to go home at night knowing someone appreciated what we had done. The Basotho never let us forget how thankful they were for our help, when in reality, I was the one thanking them. Not only was I learning how to mix cement in a wheelbarrow, or how to nail shelving units together, I was learning how to work together, how to problem solve, how to be patient and dedicated. Working at the sites enabled me to learn not only about Lesotho, but about myself.

However, Lesotho does not bring only smiles and joy. While fulfilling our service requirement of the trip by painting the schools, or building a playground, we were exposed to the harsh realities of the issues facing the Basotho. The impact AIDS has on the population is detrimental.  Access to sufficient health care or education was rare and the political, social and economic structures of Lesotho created very little mobility for the Basotho.  Every day I met children who were orphaned by AIDS and women being exploited for their labor, struggling for a substantial life. There were numerous nights I spent in bed crying, feeling frustrated and defeated. There were moments where I lost hope and thought that there was nothing I could do to make a difference for these people that I have grown to love and care about. Sometimes I questioned why I was there, or what my purpose was. It was nights similar to these that reality exceeded expectations. You can try to prepare as much as you can to see hardship and poverty, but actually being in the midst of it, yields much stronger emotions. It was during this time that I completely reevaluated my life and values. 

But without the bad, you cannot experience the good. This extends even to Lesotho. Even when I felt the most defeated or angry and lost hope in the future, the Basotho were there to teach me. Day by day it became apparent to me what mattered most in life, what was truly important and necessary to live a happy life. Despite hardships and struggles that would cause suffering, the Basotho found happiness in their lives. Whether it was a smile from a woman in line at the store, a wave from a child on the side of a road, or a hand written letter by one of the children in the community, the Basotho demonstrated values and perspectives that I would soon cherish. They appreciated my friendship, my stories and willingness to help them. I witnessed as they worked together as a community in order for everyone to benefit. The determination and passion the Basotho have for themselves and their country enabled me to find that hope I had once lost. It enabled me to learn that nothing is impossible, and by working together we can move towards a brighter future.  

Leaving Lesotho was one of the most difficult things I had ever done. I felt so comfortable, peaceful and happy there. I started finding happiness in the smallest places, and what once used to worry me seemed petty. I did not have an epiphany, and there was no moment in particular that changed my life. However, I was a changed person by the time I arrived back in the United States. I felt different. I sounded different. I was just different. I talked slower and softer, I smiled at more passer-byers, I looked at the sky more often, I thought about people more frequently. Everything about the way I live my everyday life has been affected by Lesotho. I learned so much during that short month, both about the country itself and about myself. It was truly a life-changing experience and I still feel lucky that I had that chance. Whenever I am asked about the Wittenberg in Lesotho trip I always recommend going with no expectations. Lesotho, Africa, will change you if you let it. Remain open minded and be willing to endure the emotional rollercoaster that these changes require, because it will be worth it. It was the most challenging thing I have ever done, emotionally, physically and mentally, yet I would not take back a single second of it. This experience was uplifting and inspiring. It taught me an immeasurable amount about myself and my relation to the world around me. The friendships I made in Lesotho are life-long. There is not a single day where I do not think about them or wonder how they are doing. I think about our memories and reread our letters. The people in Lesotho have changed who I am, and I can only hope that one day they understand what an impact they had on my life.

-Briana Leary

Briana is studying philosophy at Wittenberg University and traveled to Lesotho in June of 2011.