In Zimbabwe we are celebrating. Just when Zimbabwe’s education system seemed on the brink of collapse, our schools have once again opened and they are filled with students.

For months now, so many schools have lacked the resources necessary to function. With hyperinflation, teachers’ monthly salaries couldn’t buy even a loaf of bread. Thousands fled the country, seeking a living wage. But their devotion to teaching did not die. This month the coalition government announced a $100 voucher for every educator. It has been enough to bring teachers back to their classrooms-and we have been receiving letters like this one from our partners at the Ministry of Education across the 24 rural districts where Camfed works.

Students showed up in full force to greet their teachers. Last week I spoke with 52 Camfed partner schools and I heard the hope in the voices of head teachers, who are overcome with relief. School attendance is hitting 90 percent, as you will see in this attendance record I received last week from the Wedza district in eastern Zimbabwe.

Schools are so much more than a place of learning for students in Zimbabwe. They are a safe haven, and without them, children are vulnerable to all sorts of exploitation. In the past year, as prices soared and schools closed and a drought destroyed subsistence farmers’ crops, poverty has overwhelmed families in the rural areas. Some children supplemented family income with dangerous jobs such as gold or diamond mining. Others took on low-wage jobs as maids while many were at the mercy of cross border gangs who lured girls into prostitution.

These children now have the chance to reclaim their lives. We are asking you today to help them. The school doors are open, but teaching resources are scarce, and most families simply cannot afford the extra expense.

By investing $25/£18 in a back-to-school student pack (including notebooks, pens, pencils, a math set, a graph book, and a ruler) you will help a child resume education.

By investing $35/£25 in a back-to-school teacher pack (including planning books, chalk, erasers, marking pens, and rulers) you will ensure that educators have the tools to teach.

Thank you for your support in this urgent mission as we get back on our feet and help our children build futures of hope and promise.

Camfed was launched in Zimbabwe 15 years ago, so our roots there are deep and our community relationships are well-established. But with the country’s economy in collapse, we are encountering increasing challenges in carrying out our mission there. Thanks to the dedication of our Zimbabwe staff and the resilience of the communities where we work, we have been able to keep our commitment to provide education to the country’s most vulnerable children. But with most of the population struggling to meet their basic survival needs, vulnerable children are becoming the rule rather than the exception.

Camfed’s Director of Operations and Resources, Luxon Shumba, a Zimbabwean national, just returned from a field visit to his home country. He talked to Camfed’s Information and Media Relations Manager, Kimberley Sevcik, about the suffering he observed, and about how Camfed is negotiating the tremendous challenges of working in Zimbabwe.

Kimberley:  Tell me about what you saw on the ground.

Luxon: The situation is really desperate. People are living from hand to mouth.  I don’t understand how they are managing. Goods in the shops are priced in U.S. dollars, but people are earning their salaries in the local currency, which is valueless.  The inflation rate is currently estimated at 231 million percent, and the local currency, which once traded at one U.S. dollar to ten Zimbabwe dollars is now trading at one U.S. dollar to ten billion Zimbabwe dollars!  People simply cannot afford to buy anything

Even growing your own food is a problem.  Last year, some regions of the country were hit by a drought, so farmers were forced to use all of their seed, rather than reserving it to plant this year.  My brothers and sisters are still in Zimbabwe, and all we talk about when we get together for a meal is how they are going to continue to survive.

How is the crisis affecting Camfed’s program in Zimbabwe?

The program is continuing because of the community structures we have in place—committees made up of mothers and fathers and local school officials who are devoted to the welfare of the children. But they are overstressed because they are fighting for their own families’ survival while simultaneously trying to support the community’s most vulnerable children.

Hunger is a fundamental problem. I visited one school in a district called Wedza, and although the children were there, and they were attending classes, they were going to school on empty stomachs. How can you expect a child to concentrate in school when she has not eaten all day? I also spoke with teachers who had not collected their salaries in four months, because the cost of transport into town exceeded their salaries. How much longer can they go on teaching with no compensation?

While visiting Wedza, I met with headmasters of schools and parents and we discussed how we could keep children and teachers coming to school. We’re assessing a number of emergency measures, including offering incentives to teachers, and giving block grants to schools that would allow them to provide food for the children.

The people I met with sent a plea to the outside world for additional support. They are very much hoping that Camfed and the donor community will not be discouraged by the ongoing problems, but will instead continue their support by all means possible.

Was there anything you saw or heard while you were in Zimbabwe that particularly moved you?

Despite the near impossible challenges of operating in Zimbabwe, it is amazing beyond belief to see the commitment of Camfed’s community partners. These people are volunteers, they receive no payment, and they are scarcely able to survive. Even the government officials who work with us from various ministries earn next to nothing. But all of these people believe passionately in the need for education and they continue to serve with resolute commitment.

In countries where access to education is a given, few of us are aware just how precious it is to children who cannot take it for granted. We asked a group of secondary school students in the Wedza district in eastern Zimbabwe why they felt it was important that girls go to school. Their answers reveal a deep desire for knowledge, for respect, and for opportunity. They remind us that education makes all the difference between a life of limitations and one of possibility.

Lorraine
By going to school I am becoming a role model in my village. I am a living example to my brothers and sisters that it can be done. Success is not reserved for the elite class. Anybody can make it big in life including us from the dust. I want everyone from my village to appreciate that it’s not where they came from that makes them prosper but how much effort they put into pursuing their dreams.

Kudzaiishe
I was forced to drop out of school for a term for financial reasons, and during that time, I felt hopeless. When schools opened for second term I was lucky to be selected as a Camfed beneficiary. Since then I have never looked back.

I love going to school because it gives me a chance to meet new people with different ideas about life. Education is an investment that will stay with me throughout my life. It is mine to use as I wish and it can never be taken away.

Priscilla
It is important for me to go to school because it will me put me in a position to invest in the next generation–meaning that if I become an educated mother, I am more likely to send my children to school.

Kudzai
Education is important because it puts girls on equal footing with boys. Education is the foundation for development and prosperity. When a woman is educated she can become empowered, independent and responsible. Surely with all these qualities she can find herself a job and look after herself and her family.

Charity
It is important for a girl to get an education because nowadays life without education is not life. With an education, I’ll be able to prepare for my future. I’ll be able to select the profession that I want. I am in love with the subject of commerce, but my dream is to become a pilot.

Ever since Camfed started to assist me, I have had the feeling of belonging. Knowing that everything is catered by Camfed—school fees, books and uniforms—gives me the energy to work even harder.

Envioleta
After I finished primary school, my parents could no longer afford my school fees. I spent eight months at home herding cattle and goats instead of going to school like any other child.

I’m very relieved to be back at school. I want to get an education so that I can be enlightened on my rights as a woman. I have sadly realized that the reason why most women are abused in all facets of life is because they are ignorant of their rights.

Melody
If a girl goes to school, she has an opportunity to identify her strengths and choose her path.  Education is a form of emancipation.

Vimbai
Going to school is the only way I can qualify for a professional job, and the only way to elevate my status so I am recognized in society. With an education, I will avoid being a burden to other people.

If I was not in school right now, I imagine I would be married. That’s another good thing about education–educated women marry many years later than women with no education. They marry after they have had a chance to accomplish their dreams.

I met Mrs. Simbisai  M.*. . . earlier this year in Harare. She had traveled from her village 258 miles away, to attend a home-based care training workshop organized by Camfed for Mother Support Groups throughout rural Zimbabwe.  Mother Support Groups engage in income-generating activities such as gardening and soap-making in order to provide girls with all the small things they need to be able to attend school. They are made up of women who have seen the tremendous benefits of educating girls, and who are committed to doing their part to contribute to the mission.

When I first encountered Mrs. M., she struck me as an ordinary mother from rural Zimbabwe: a modest woman with cracked hands and greying hair. She wore tennis shoes with her skirt, and a wig that she had borrowed especially to come to the city. She is quiet and observant, but she has one of the most majestic spirits I have ever encountered.

About 13 years ago, Mrs M. learned of a three-year old in her village named Nobetter, who had lost both of her parents. Because Nobetter did not have nearby relatives, she took Nobetter into her home, although she already had four children of her own. Since that day, she has raised Nobetter.

Four years later, Mrs. M. adopted another orphan–an18-month-old named Patience, who lost her father to AIDS. Her mother was critically ill, and unable to care for her. Like Nobetter, Patience did not have any family in the village, so once again, Mrs. M. stepped in to be her guardian.

Nobetter is now 16 years old, and Patience is 11, and they are still with Mrs. M. She and her husband are subsistence farmers, and they struggle to make ends meet.   “It’s not like I am rich,” she says. “It’s the love that I have for these innocent children that pushes me to care for them.”

In addition to their four biological children, they have three grandchildren who live with them as well.  The family of 11 share a one-bedroom house and two round huts. At times, Mrs. M.’s husband has questioned the wisdom of her decision to adopt two children. “At one point my husband asked me where I was going to get the money to look after these girls,” Mrs. M. says. “I told him that they would feed on what I would be feeding on. Thank God he now understands me and he is very supportive.”

Mrs. M. is highly respected in her community as a woman who gives assistance to the disadvantaged. Another woman at the meeting told me that she wished she had a heart as big as Mrs. M.’s.

But what is most remarkable about Mrs. M.’s story is that in Zimbabwe, it is not an exception. Although everyone is worried about feeding their own families, among the communities where Camfed works, Mother Support Groups, Father Support Groups, teachers, and teacher-mentors still have the welfare of others in their hearts. Like Mrs. M. they continue to sacrifice, to find ways to find ways to help children through these times of crisis.

*Note: Mrs. M.’s full name has been omitted to protect her identity

Author Lisa Grainger spent three months travelling through Zimbabwe, Zambia, South Africa and Botswana, collecting stories that have been passed down by generations of gogos, or grandmothers. The result, Stories Gogo Told Me (Penguin, 2008), is a collection of 40 traditional African tales that Lisa gathered from village storytellers, farmers, and rural teachers. On her journey, she met some of the girls Camfed is supporting through school.

“Having taken the stories from villages, it didn’t feel right to profit myself, so I decided to donate proceeds from the book to Camfed,” explains Lisa, who grew up in Zimbabwe. “Camfed’s work appealed to me because I had seen firsthand how much money went directly to educating girls in Africa.”

Lisa visited a rural school in Zimbabwe and met 56 girls whose education is being funded by Camfed. She also met two young women who, with Camfed’s support, are studying social sciences at university in order to help their own communities. Every one of them said that without Camfed, they would not have been educated. “None of these girls had ever seen a book of traditional African stories, and they all begged me for a copy,” says Lisa. “I know that there are hundreds more girls across Africa who will benefit if the book sells.”

Camfed would like to thank Lisa enormously for her generosity, and to urge supporters to buy this wonderful and evocative book.

Stories Gogo Told Me can be pre-ordered in the U.S. for December delivery at Amazon.com.

Listen to an interview with Lisa Grainger on BBC Radio 4

By Vicky Anning, writer-in-residence

When the writer Lisa Grainger was growing up in Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe), she loved nothing better than listening to the tales told by her nanny, Ida, round the fire. Twenty years later, she gave up a full-time job as the Features Director of Elle to return to her native Zimbabwe and neighbouring countries to gather stories that have been passed down by generations of grandmas (or “gogos”). (more…)