In early December I met a boy named Thando. He's ten years old and incredibly smart for having never gone to school. For four years his mother has tried to get him into school, but has always been denied school because they have never had a child in a wheelchair before. So Thando sat at home while his brother and sister went.

            One day as my team was doing a Bible lesson to the pre-school age kids, we had the kids bring in their crafts for us to write their names on them. Thando was with them and when given a pen, drew strange symbols onto his craft. I asked the translator what they were. "His name." She said. "He has invented it."

            When older kids started coming from school we took some inside to give one-on-one tutoring. The gogo, (grandmother) of the carepoint asked me to take Thando to teach him letters and sounds. He was so eager to learn that he got down the first 8 letters in upper and lower case - with sounds - in under an hour.

"Can you come tomorrow? The gogo asked?" 

            "Maybe, I'll try." I answered.  I didn't know then that ‘Maybe' and ‘I'll try' is as good as a promise here.

            The next day I had to go elsewhere, and I was walking by the carepoint in the evening. A gogo told me that she had had a bad day. "Why?" I asked. "Because you didn't show up, and Thando waited at the carepoint for you to teach him all day."

            That made me almost fall over I felt so bad. I asked Thando's mother how the search for schooling for him was going. She said that an AID organization had said they might sponsor Thando to go to a disabled school in Cape Town.

            Then it was middle of January. The organization never got back to her. But I understand. I'm no better than them; I gave Thando hope, and then didn't show. I said a prayer that God would redeem me and get Thando into school.

            Thando's mother asked me to come and beg the closest school to accept Thando. It'd be the 5^th year of trying. Basically I was a white face, because Swazi people act differently around white people. (Because 90% of them are AID workers or missionaries) I was happy to be used if it got him into school. However the school headmaster turned away Thando's mother with some stern words. The worst part is not that Thando's mom has to tell him he won't go to school again; it's that Thando will tell her that it's OK, and he'll get in next year.

I followed the headmaster into the school, and managed to get her to say that it wasn't the money, or the lack of wheelchair access, or the shortage of school books, or the that the kids might make fun of him when he poops, but that it is because the school is full. This is understandable because the Grade one teachers have 50 students each. This is actually great news because there are usually some registered children which disappear over the summer break. (Not great, but great for Thando!) However, even when a spot opened, the headmaster wouldn't allow him on new reasons. So his mother and I took a few trips to the regional education officer (REO) and he got things sorted out. The REO for all Swaziland happened to be the son of the gogo we were staying with! (Small country!)

My friend Thandega (Erin's Swazi name) got to see him on his first day of school. He was intensely focused on the teacher while 49 other 5 year olds goofed off. His mother had another boy push him the 3 km down and up the mountain to the school each day. (No Kidding) Thandega said that they might move him up a grade if he does well. And he will.

            The REO disabilities chairman told me that there's nothing that can get him out now but bad behavior or poor grades. It shouldn't be a problem, as he's ten years old and in grade one.

             I thought these things only happened in World Vision TV specials.

            But one problem still remains, the wheelchair accessibility at the school. There are no ramps or pavement, and he has to be brought to the toilet and lifted into classrooms.

Here's the bite:

I am hoping that wonderful people in North America will be able to help build minor wheelchair accessibility at the school. By having wheelchair accessibility, the school is opened to other children in the area who have been constantly denied schooling also. Should you feel called by the story to help make ramps and buy accessibility hardware, please donate to the Swaziland orphan education fund at   https://www.adventures.org/give/donate.asp?giveto=orphans    and be sure to select ‘Swaziland Orphan Education fund.'

            Immediately following you must be sure to send an e-mail with the amount donated and thoughts or concerns to bjs9@ualberta.ca. This allows me to show how much I can extract from the fund for the wheelchair accessibility project at the Mkhuzweni primary school.

Thank you so much, Be Blessed.

Ben Scholten.