3 stories of holiday hope

The holidays are one time of year when it just feels right – natural, even – to be hopeful about the future. There’s something so profoundly human about the fact that, during the darkest days of the year, we put candles in the windows, hang lights on trees and make plans for what we’ll do when the sunshine returns. And while it may seem like the subject of a greeting card, hope is far from a fluffy, abstract concept. It’s power.

At ChildFund, we see this fact in action daily. We see how hope fuels communities to challenge and reshape systems of power in order to protect their children – driven by their raw belief that in spite of oppression, fear and hardship, change is possible. We see how hope transmutes into courage for families who sacrifice everything to create a better future for their kids. We see how hope seasons the dreams of children who have limited life experiences and yet still know how to imagine what’s possible. And we see how hope motivates our supporters to do their part to make those children’s dreams a reality.

Hope is alive. In fact, in a dark time, place or situation, it can be the difference between life and death. It’s also not a finite resource. When we feel like we’re running out, it’s something we can share with each other.

Here are just three examples of the shape that hope can take in children’s lives.

Hope is health care

Nine months pregnant at the height of the Sri Lankan civil war, Suntharakumar, now age 50, experienced complications and delays during her final month of pregnancy back in 2007. She and her daughter, Aruliny, didn’t receive the health care they needed during delivery. After just a few weeks, doctors knew Aruliny was severely disabled. “The doctor said the child will be of no use,” Suntharakumar recalls. “It was during the war, and there were plenty of children in orphanages. ‘You can trade in your child,’ the doctor said. But I loved her, and I wanted to care for her.”

Aruliny, now 16, suffers from rigid cerebral palsy and is unable to walk, speak, feed herself or control her movements. She is homebound, and a family member must be present and near her at all times. “We’re used to it,” says Suntharakumar happily. “I can’t say caring for her is a burden. We are family.”

Suntharakumar has seen remarkable improvement since the family began participating in ChildFund Sri Lanka's Community-based Inclusive Development (CBID) project seven years ago and began receiving training in physical therapy techniques to help Aruliny. “There are a lot of changes in Aruliny’s life,” she says. “In the beginning, she laid down all the time. She would not react to sound, and she was constantly drooling. She could only have liquid food. Now, she has improved in so many ways. She responds to music and the sound of my voice. She lets me know when she’s hungry. She no longer drools. She smiles and interacts with me. It gives me hope that she will continue to improve.”

Having to spend so much time caring for Aruliny has resulted in a lack of livelihood opportunities for the family. For this reason, Suntharakumar and other families who participate in the project received goats and agricultural training in order to generate income without having to leave the house. Suntharakumar initially received three goats. After breeding them, they sold the goats and upgraded them to cows. Today they have four cows, two calves and a steady milk business, selling 8 liters of milk each day for 1160 rupees ($3.30/day). 

Suntharakumar continues to work with Aruliny every day in exercises on response and control of movements. This year, Aruliny was able to attend temple with the whole family for the first time while sitting in a wheelchair. “ChildFund brought us into their care,” Mom says. “We’re not expecting she will walk, but we are working on sitting properly now.”

Hope is education

Life in Zavala District, Mozambique, was challenging for mothers and their children before the establishment of an early childhood development (ECD) center. The absence of a dedicated educational facility meant that children had limited opportunities to learn and play in a safe environment. Many spent their days at home or accompanying their mothers to work in the fields, missing out on crucial early childhood education and social interactions.

“Our children would start school when they were already too old. Like, 7 years! All this time they would be at home, just playing and not learning much,” says Florencia, one mother in the community.

For parents, the lack of a safe place for their children meant that their days were consumed by caregiving, leaving little time for other activities. The inability to work outside the home deepened the cycle of poverty and limited the community's growth. The aspirations of these mothers for a better future for their children seemed distant and unattainable.

Recognizing the serious need for a safe and nurturing environment for children, ChildFund collaborated with the local community to construct an early childhood development center. The center consists of two classrooms, three toilets, a playground and an outdoor kitchen. It’s also well stocked with books and toys, many of which were handcrafted by the children themselves.

The impact of the ECD center has been profound.

With their children in a safe and nurturing environment, mothers now have the time to focus on other activities. Many have started small businesses or found part-time work in the mornings, significantly contributing to their family's income. “I live here near the community school, and it has brought many good changes. For me as a mother, now I have more time for the house and family chores and small business,” says Altina, a mom of two.

“My 4-year-old daughter is also happier, more motivated, and enjoys being at school learning and playing. Even on weekends when there is no school, she wants to come to school! I must explain to her that on the weekends there is no school, and even the teachers must rest.”

Regular health check-ups and nutritious meals at the school ensure that children are healthy and ready to learn, addressing issues of malnutrition and illness that were prevalent before.

“This community center is a symbol of unity and learning, not only to educate our children but also us, the parents. … They teach and encourage us parents to understand proper nutritious food and health care support, and also that young children need cognitive stimulation. These are very important lessons, and we are noticing the changes in both the children and ourselves.”

Hope is protection

“I felt bad because the man was a stranger to me. I hated him. When he visited the house, I was always crying. They would ask me why I was crying, but I couldn’t tell them.”

At 12 years old, Nashipai, now 14, was the oldest of eight siblings in her family. Two years ago, her father faced financial hardship and could no longer afford to continue her education. He made the same arrangements many men do in their traditional Maasai community in Kajiado County, Kenya: He arranged for Nashipai to be married off so he could procure a dowry.

“I am the firstborn in our family. It was because my father doesn’t have any money. If he had money, he would have kept me in school,” says Nashipai. “The man I was to marry is employed to look after other people's cattle, so it would have been a hard life.”

Although child marriage is a traditional and common practice in the region, Nashipai had learned what her rights were from ChildFund’s Child Rights Club at her school. So, at the first chance she got, Nashipai went to the school principal and told him that her father had arranged for her to be married. The principal gave her a safe place to stay in the newly built school dormitory before he could visit Nashipai’s family himself. “When I made the request, [the principal] welcomed me. He did some shopping for me and told me I will be sleeping here.”

Back at home, tension had broken out between Nashipai’s mother and father. Her mother had taken her side and stood against her father’s decision to marry her off. “My father was angry about that. He beat my mom, who then ran for her safety back to her mother’s house. When she left, my father followed her to apologize. My father also forgave her, and he agreed that I could go to school if I got someone to pay for my fees.”

Nashipai knew her school was a safe place. It’s been supported by ChildFund through its local partner, Mount Kilimanjaro Child Development Programme, for more than two decades. ChildFund supports the school by facilitating the Child Rights Club, providing supplementary food for students, and running tree planting and kitchen gardens programs. Perhaps most crucially, ChildFund constructed a school dormitory nearly three years ago as a safe place for girls to learn away from the pressures and dangers of the surrounding community. It was just in time to save Nashipai from a life of hardship. “Because of our dormitory, many girls are not getting married,” she says. “If your parents want to marry you off, you inform the principal, who takes you to the dormitory.”

Equipped with solar-powered lighting for nighttime study sessions, improved pit latrines and a clothes-washing station, the dorm offers Nashipai and the approximately 60 other girls who stay here protection from harm and a life that contrasts starkly with those on the outside. “By now I would have two or three children,” says Nashipai. “I have peace here. I feel good because I just passed my exams. Once I have received my [basic] education, I will put my effort into being a doctor. Once I’m a doctor, I will come back to help girls like me.”