A girl from Malawi

It was a friend’s farewell dinner the other night. We agreed to go to a certain nearby restaurant.

The restaurant was dark. A young girl sat at the entrance, which was blocked by two tables. So I sat down and asked if it was closed. She said yes, they rest on Tuesdays. Deciding that I should just wait for my friends to come, I tried to chat with her. I say ‘try’ because usually it just ends up with me saying the same Swahili phrases and not understanding anything substantial from the conversation.

It turns out that Hebi (I think that’s how her name is spelt) is from Malawi. She’s working in Dar for six months to earn enough money for one semester of her university tuition back in Malawi. She’s a social work studies student. Her aunt agreed to support part of her education, but she had to find the rest of the money. Probably a freshman, she has three to four years of university to finish before graduating.

“Wow, you travelled all the way here to find work? How long have you been in Dar es Salaam?” Intrigued, I couldn’t help being nosy.

Hebi has only been in Dar for a month. She speaks no Swahili and can’t find a job other than cleaning. Currently, she’s working at one of my favourite pizza restaurants down the street. I said I don’t think I’ve seen her before. Oh, that’s because she’s always in the kitchen, cleaning. She needs to work hard to save up money.

How much does she have to save up for tuition for a semester (which I think is 6 months)? “My aunt will contribute 20,000 Tanzanian Shillings. I will need to come up with 30,000,” came the answer. That’s $20 USD. She came all the way to Tanzania to earn $20. It would take her 6 months.

Speechless. My friends’ arrival at that moment allowed to me to slip away with a polite good bye, allowed me to not respond.

To be honest, I didn’t know how to. I had spent that amount on dining out the past two days.

*****I’m writing this not as a rich little brat who hasn’t ever tried to understand how the vast majority of the country lives. I know a lot of the hardships. I’ve talked to many people, albeit through a translator, both in the village and in Dar. I’m also very aware of the power dynamic between foreigners and locals. I usually like to think of myself as having a good grasp on the challenges of human dynamics in development work. I’ve had similar moments before, like when I found out that the secondary school in Nyandira (the village I stayed at last year) had 200 students and 4 biology books and no science teacher. One book costs 10,000 Tanzanian Shillings ($7 USD). School fees are 20,000 Tsh ($13.5 USD) for 6 months, yet paying them is the top problem every parent and child would tell me. I know this. But this recent exchange particularly surprised me. Maybe because she was the first Malawian I’ve talked to. Maybe because I could communicate directly. Maybe because it was at that pizza restaurant.******