And so back to Rusinga. The island in South West Kenya where I lived and worked last year supporting the Alekii self help group. This family of inspirational educators and community workers have worked tirelessly over the last three years to deliver quality education to a generation of children decimated by the regions high HIV/AIDS infection rate (currently estimated at 40% of all adults).
Last year the Kenyan department of health had condemned their school building as unsafe, and they faced closure. 75 children aged between four and nine faced an uncertain future without school.
I arrive under darkness, a familiarly precarious journey with several people, bags and cases shoved onto the motorbike taxi driving at full speed through the dusty bussle of Mbita, the main town on the island. Small fires litter the sides of the street with bubbling stoves and steaming plates of food being prepared for fishermen before they set off for their nights work. Livestock amble aimlessly alongside barefoot children and girls gossiping, huddled in colourful giggling gangs.
As I wonder through the crowds a wonderful sensation of coming home fills me, and I smile at what is to come over the next two days.
Here I meet Francis, the programme co-ordinator for Alekii and his wife Olga. These two are simply heroic in what they have achieved with so little - as well as running a successful computer business, beauty salon, raising their beautiful children, chairing the school's PTA, organising exams, arranging the financing for the project, they have been busy rebuilding Alekii over the last three months and it has now re-opened.
I'm overjoyed to meet their new addition to the family, two month old David Shane Jackson Opiyo who lights up the room with gurgling laughter and toothless smiles. Holding him I realise what an incredible sacrifice Francis and his family have made for the Alekii school - they selflessly give roughly a fifth of everything they earn to the school and yet have a young family to support.
Last year, with enormous support from friends and family, we were able to raise the funds to build a new structure and move the children to a new building - Alekii II. Using funds from our donors, and labour from the children's parents, the new school is a simple structure made from gleaming iron sheets which reflect the hot sun, and locally sourced materials to provide the frame.
Early the following morning I take a tour of the school by myself and marvel at what they have achieved. The rising sun illuminates news classrooms, desks, blackboards and a small office for meetings with parents and hopefully one day a head teacher to work from.
What's more, the land adjacent to the school has been cleared to make room for a playing field, and there are basic toilets adjoining the school. With a water pump providing clean, safe water in the next field, the new Alekii school now has the foundations to become something significant for the next generation of children in this area.
As the day breaks, the school begins to fill up and I see familiar faces and new students alike running up from the village. Suddenly I find myself surrounded by youthful energy and I remember why this project became so important to me - this is raw potential in its truest form. We just need to give it a place to thrive.
Later, as the committee sits to discuss what still needs to be done to complete the school, a teacher brings seven year old Frank Omondi to the leaders. He has severe swelling around his face and we suspect he has malaria. The decision is made to take him to the hospital where his condition is confirmed. Luckily because of the teacher's quick diagnosis he is able to receive medication, however there is a real chance that had he not been seen he could have died.
Tragically, in the three years since the school opened four pupils have died of conditions which could have been treated had diagnosis happened earlier. High transport and hospital fees coupled with a lack of understanding about symptoms of serious illnesses mean that many parents will take a 'wait and see' approach which leads to deaths which so easily could have been prevented. I begin mentally making plans for an emergency fund which the school could administer to cover these costs and a healthcare outreach programme to better inform parents and the community generally about the importance of early intervention.
As the sun sets, I take some time to photograph the fisherman. They are the keystone of the community here as everyone relies on the money they make to survive, and use floating kerosene lanterns to attract fish at night. When there is a full moon, their technique doesn't work and effectively the whole local economy shuts down and people go hungry.
I sit watching as they light their lamps, the warm glow of the burning kerosene filling expanding darkness with light. It's a hard life, and I wonder how many of these men had a chance to fulfil their ambitions, whether they were denied an education, and what whether they will live to see their children achieve theirs.
Francis, previously a fisherman himself, tells me that above all fishing teaches you patience and perseverance. Crews for the small boats will row for up to three hours through rain and choppy seas to reach a good spot where fish are found in great numbers. They will often wait for hours, huddled under plastic sheets to protect themselves from the rain or just stare silently into the night as not to disturb their catch.
I think this above all typifies the Alekii school's approach - having stared down the barrel of closure last year, their persistence and hard work have built a movement in their community which has the potential to grow and be a major force in giving opportunities to hundreds of young people for years to come. Thank you to everyone who has supported the project so far, without you none of this would have been possible.
But there is still much to do. The school building needs to be waterproofed and fitted with doors. The floor needs concrete to survive the rains. Windows and internal walls need to be built to improve the interiors.
An emergency fund and healthcare programme needs to be introduced to avoid preventable deaths for pupils of the school.
And most importantly, a sustainable income source needs to be found to pay the ongoing costs for teachers, exam fees, school uniforms and food for lunch. One that is owned and run by the community so they will not have to rely on donors to survive, and that will grow as demand for the school does. There is talent and ideas here already to achieve this. But we need capital to begin.
I need contacts in microfinance, healthcare, education, banking, agriculture, community workers, accountancy and law to get this project really moving. I need fundraisers to give their time to run, cycle or swim with me to raise money to finish the school. If you think that you could help in any way, please email me at davidshanejackson@gmail.com
On my last night I am given a blessing by the family and I am sure that this place gives me purpose. A very wise man once said to me that a man without a goal is dead. For some years my goal has always been to make a significant, positive impact on people or planet. I now know where.
