Welcome to the Chronicles of Daraja Archives!
Here you will find stories from our volunteers since the beginning of the Daraja Foundation in 2013.
These reflective experiences will take you through the inspiration and vision of creating Daraja Foundation, our successes and challenges, providing a real view of volunteerism and how we keep moving forward. For our latest updates and photos, please visit our social media pages.
Our Volunteers make Daraja Foundation a family, here are their stories...
Here you will find stories from our volunteers since the beginning of the Daraja Foundation in 2013.
These reflective experiences will take you through the inspiration and vision of creating Daraja Foundation, our successes and challenges, providing a real view of volunteerism and how we keep moving forward. For our latest updates and photos, please visit our social media pages.
Our Volunteers make Daraja Foundation a family, here are their stories...
I WAS TEARING UP
Posted by Erin on Friday, 25 January 2013
Posted by Erin on Friday, 25 January 2013
He told me he was desperate for help... I met some of the inpatients who were lucky if they got any attention |
I'm sitting in one of the most beautiful and peaceful spots in the world in Zanzibar, Tanzania. I am just up from the beach under my favorite tree (a 'mkongu') listening to the murmer of the locals speaking Swahili in the background and the waves lapping on the shore. The vast Indian ocean is many shades of blue and turquoise. This moment is as beautiful as ever.
I am so glad to have met Leah, Arsheen, Wilfred and Shah during this trip as they have really made my trip memorable. Last night I sat under this tree with the two Canadian friends I had just met. We played guitar, a bongo drum and shaker and sang songs with the locals as the sun set. They are visiting Zanzibar for a few weeks to generously volunteer their nursing skills in the maternity and neonatal ward at the local hospital. I accompanied them on a few occasions where I witnessed multiple births, surgeries and the resuscitation of premature babies. I witnessed my first birth there, which was one of the most amazing things I had ever seen. I was tearing up. After that I spent time holding new born babies that were only about 1-2 kg's. More than 35 babies are born in this hospital daily (approximately 11,000 per year) and the number of baby and maternal fatalities are also astonishingly high (8-9 per month).
I learned that they have a physiotherapy department at this hospital. The next day I sought after it, as this is my background and specialty. This is where I met Abdul, the head physio. I marvelled at his ability to treat patients with such limited equipment. Abdul would see at least 20 patients each day who lined up in the morning by 8am and waited patiently for their treatments outside the clinic. He told me he was desperate for help, and he wanted to set up an education program where trained physios from first world countries came over to help educate the physio students in Zanzibar. I witnessed children, babies, elders and neurological patients receive treatment. I also met some of the inpatients who were lucky if they got any attention during the day. I didn't see any visitors, and there was no source of entertainment or tv or even meals to feed them. They were sitting in a hot room without much air circulation except the odd fan and all were in pain, but I never once saw anyone getting medications. Surprisingly, most of them were quite cheerful and happy to speak with me. The majority of the injuries were from motor vehicle accidents, mostly motorcycle crashes.
I think this hospital has a lot of promise. They just need more trained professionals and supplies. Overall, observing and volunteering in the hospital was an eye-opening experience and I hope that I will be able to go back one day to help at the physiotherapy department. What I thought would only be a 4 or 5 day excursion, turned into 12 days here and it was totally worth it! Zanzibar, I will return to you.
Erin xo
I am so glad to have met Leah, Arsheen, Wilfred and Shah during this trip as they have really made my trip memorable. Last night I sat under this tree with the two Canadian friends I had just met. We played guitar, a bongo drum and shaker and sang songs with the locals as the sun set. They are visiting Zanzibar for a few weeks to generously volunteer their nursing skills in the maternity and neonatal ward at the local hospital. I accompanied them on a few occasions where I witnessed multiple births, surgeries and the resuscitation of premature babies. I witnessed my first birth there, which was one of the most amazing things I had ever seen. I was tearing up. After that I spent time holding new born babies that were only about 1-2 kg's. More than 35 babies are born in this hospital daily (approximately 11,000 per year) and the number of baby and maternal fatalities are also astonishingly high (8-9 per month).
I learned that they have a physiotherapy department at this hospital. The next day I sought after it, as this is my background and specialty. This is where I met Abdul, the head physio. I marvelled at his ability to treat patients with such limited equipment. Abdul would see at least 20 patients each day who lined up in the morning by 8am and waited patiently for their treatments outside the clinic. He told me he was desperate for help, and he wanted to set up an education program where trained physios from first world countries came over to help educate the physio students in Zanzibar. I witnessed children, babies, elders and neurological patients receive treatment. I also met some of the inpatients who were lucky if they got any attention during the day. I didn't see any visitors, and there was no source of entertainment or tv or even meals to feed them. They were sitting in a hot room without much air circulation except the odd fan and all were in pain, but I never once saw anyone getting medications. Surprisingly, most of them were quite cheerful and happy to speak with me. The majority of the injuries were from motor vehicle accidents, mostly motorcycle crashes.
I think this hospital has a lot of promise. They just need more trained professionals and supplies. Overall, observing and volunteering in the hospital was an eye-opening experience and I hope that I will be able to go back one day to help at the physiotherapy department. What I thought would only be a 4 or 5 day excursion, turned into 12 days here and it was totally worth it! Zanzibar, I will return to you.
Erin xo
I HAD PLANS TO LEAVE ZANZIBAR
Posted by Wilfred on Tuesday, 22 January 2013
Posted by Wilfred on Tuesday, 22 January 2013
I would continually participate in a foundation that uplifts the locals.... That foundation is the Daraja Foundation |
Day what now? Had plans to leave Zanzibar on the coming Sunday. What am I crazy? That Sunday should never come, I thought. I went to a local tour agency, checked up available flights. They said there are always 3 flights to Nairobi daily. I replied, “Good, now let me get lost in my youth and think about which flight to Nairobi when I do’’, one of the ladies laughed – I think she constantly marveled at the inability of tourists to determine their departure date from this treasure.
I was staying in a big beautiful home with Shah and his mother. They welcome several guests and tourists throughout the year. On Sunday I woke up to postponing my flight to Tuesday evening, couldn’t miss fishing on Monday with Shah and the others. Taking a break from the culture screaming narrow streets of Stone Town, the Vuai family home was a random plan that turned out to be one of the highlights of my Zanzibar trip, they lived family some 30 minute drive from the Stone Town. Shah was a friend of the family’s eldest son and Arsheen, Erin and Leah had organized a TV and various gifts for the kids there. We spent a great time eating lots of fruits and basking in instant happiness, conversation and laughter that fed on itself. Litchi fruits (shoki shoki) are something else I could eat all day here.
Meanwhile, I was researching on the family by having a Q and A session with the families’ eldest women, as the kids around Arsheen, Leah, Shah and Erin grabbed onto every gift with excitement. It amazed me the extent to which every family member was so happy. Mentally and physically they were uplifted with joy. I had found a lot of jovial people like the Vuais around here.
Well during the week on occasion the crowd (Shah, Erin, Leah and Arsheen) would make these amazing dinners that I loved. Great moments I thought, I mean we were all people from different backgrounds from around the world sharing dinner, life, ideas, laughter - united by youth and God blessed minutes, hours. My favorite was a dinner we made when the electricity went out, great times.
My second evening Friday in Zanzibar, I got Ma, the mother of the house, a kanga with a Swahili proverb that described her innocence and beauty as a mother, goodness she loved it! Sharing was the norm here and I loved it, could we get more? Great night it was at Tatu, a local night spot with the gang. I had been conversing with Arsheen, a young Canadian nurse passionate about foundation work in Zanzibar. We lived in the same house together with Shah, Leah and Erin.
Continued my conversation with Arsheen, continually drawing her interests towards her passion. It’s amazing when people that have common interests, randomly meet and share the things that make them most positively human. She had made some trips to Zanzibar in the past, worked with a local hospital and orphanage home and had plans of turning her volunteer work into a full time foundation. The way she said it, it was owned, an idea whose time had come. Inspired I was - someone choosing to do all this for a people so true of heart was a match complete. Ok, how was I going to be a part of this?
The next Saturday Shah, Joseph (Spanish house mate) and I caught a live soccer match at the Aman Stadium. One of Shah’s eldest brothers drove us there and his son joined us too. On our way to the stadium I couldn’t help but tell Joseph how life was so new for me here. I mean, if I would move here, I would be driving my son to the game, we’d go fishing, you name it. This place sustained love and family. Yes that’s right, get away from the thrills of city work life adrenalin and do something far beyond what I had expected of myself. I felt so new in this place, would be different me for sure. But I want both lives I think, they would complement each other, each ensuring the beginning of another was the end and yet growth in desire for the other. Game was ok, Tusker from Kenya lost. Going back home I didn’t speak a word - so deep in thought, I wanted to leave a lasting impression on the island, share my good feeling with others and have them rub some of theirs on me. Foundation anyone?
So now fast-forward to Sunday. It all made sense hanging out with the Vuai family, how amazing it would be for me to be part of this family’s joy and happiness whilst miles away. Why does there need to be a cut off between lives wanted and lives lived? I would in essence be stealing a life, I mean I was born and raised in Kenya, I work in Kenya, love Kenya but what if? What if I could defy nature and live in another country just long enough to have a state of mind filled with all the joys of the new country. It would be like I was born and raised there, I would have lived two lives in one, one up on nature there! And to sustain that feeling, I would continually participate in a foundation that uplifts the locals and updates me on the whole experience. That foundation is the Daraja Foundation - my bridge to my Zanzibar family, my Zanzibar life. I would be able to say, I am Zanzibari and I have a family there called the Vuai’s and we are one. I LOVE it!
Now I plan to get back to my other life in Kenya, and generate more support for my new family in Zanzibar. Daraja meanwhile professionally manages all the support I provide to my newly adopted family in Zanzibar.
I left around 5:00pm, vowed to come back! Well you always do when you have family don’t you?
Great life experience I tell you
Wilfred
I was staying in a big beautiful home with Shah and his mother. They welcome several guests and tourists throughout the year. On Sunday I woke up to postponing my flight to Tuesday evening, couldn’t miss fishing on Monday with Shah and the others. Taking a break from the culture screaming narrow streets of Stone Town, the Vuai family home was a random plan that turned out to be one of the highlights of my Zanzibar trip, they lived family some 30 minute drive from the Stone Town. Shah was a friend of the family’s eldest son and Arsheen, Erin and Leah had organized a TV and various gifts for the kids there. We spent a great time eating lots of fruits and basking in instant happiness, conversation and laughter that fed on itself. Litchi fruits (shoki shoki) are something else I could eat all day here.
Meanwhile, I was researching on the family by having a Q and A session with the families’ eldest women, as the kids around Arsheen, Leah, Shah and Erin grabbed onto every gift with excitement. It amazed me the extent to which every family member was so happy. Mentally and physically they were uplifted with joy. I had found a lot of jovial people like the Vuais around here.
Well during the week on occasion the crowd (Shah, Erin, Leah and Arsheen) would make these amazing dinners that I loved. Great moments I thought, I mean we were all people from different backgrounds from around the world sharing dinner, life, ideas, laughter - united by youth and God blessed minutes, hours. My favorite was a dinner we made when the electricity went out, great times.
My second evening Friday in Zanzibar, I got Ma, the mother of the house, a kanga with a Swahili proverb that described her innocence and beauty as a mother, goodness she loved it! Sharing was the norm here and I loved it, could we get more? Great night it was at Tatu, a local night spot with the gang. I had been conversing with Arsheen, a young Canadian nurse passionate about foundation work in Zanzibar. We lived in the same house together with Shah, Leah and Erin.
Continued my conversation with Arsheen, continually drawing her interests towards her passion. It’s amazing when people that have common interests, randomly meet and share the things that make them most positively human. She had made some trips to Zanzibar in the past, worked with a local hospital and orphanage home and had plans of turning her volunteer work into a full time foundation. The way she said it, it was owned, an idea whose time had come. Inspired I was - someone choosing to do all this for a people so true of heart was a match complete. Ok, how was I going to be a part of this?
The next Saturday Shah, Joseph (Spanish house mate) and I caught a live soccer match at the Aman Stadium. One of Shah’s eldest brothers drove us there and his son joined us too. On our way to the stadium I couldn’t help but tell Joseph how life was so new for me here. I mean, if I would move here, I would be driving my son to the game, we’d go fishing, you name it. This place sustained love and family. Yes that’s right, get away from the thrills of city work life adrenalin and do something far beyond what I had expected of myself. I felt so new in this place, would be different me for sure. But I want both lives I think, they would complement each other, each ensuring the beginning of another was the end and yet growth in desire for the other. Game was ok, Tusker from Kenya lost. Going back home I didn’t speak a word - so deep in thought, I wanted to leave a lasting impression on the island, share my good feeling with others and have them rub some of theirs on me. Foundation anyone?
So now fast-forward to Sunday. It all made sense hanging out with the Vuai family, how amazing it would be for me to be part of this family’s joy and happiness whilst miles away. Why does there need to be a cut off between lives wanted and lives lived? I would in essence be stealing a life, I mean I was born and raised in Kenya, I work in Kenya, love Kenya but what if? What if I could defy nature and live in another country just long enough to have a state of mind filled with all the joys of the new country. It would be like I was born and raised there, I would have lived two lives in one, one up on nature there! And to sustain that feeling, I would continually participate in a foundation that uplifts the locals and updates me on the whole experience. That foundation is the Daraja Foundation - my bridge to my Zanzibar family, my Zanzibar life. I would be able to say, I am Zanzibari and I have a family there called the Vuai’s and we are one. I LOVE it!
Now I plan to get back to my other life in Kenya, and generate more support for my new family in Zanzibar. Daraja meanwhile professionally manages all the support I provide to my newly adopted family in Zanzibar.
I left around 5:00pm, vowed to come back! Well you always do when you have family don’t you?
Great life experience I tell you
Wilfred
STREGNTH OF THE AFRICAN WOMAN
Posted by Leah on Sunday, 20 January 2013
Posted by Leah on Sunday, 20 January 2013
The strength of the African woman made me feel delicate and the innocence of the new borns gave me hope |
Stone town, Zanzibar gathered its name from its sandstone architecture built in the mid 1800’s, as you walk through it you can smell the mix of masala, cinnamon and cloves. The mixing didn’t end with the aromas in the in the air, while looking through the town you can see a multitude of ethic groups, an array of locals from Oman, Iran, Africa, Europe, and India. As I walk its narrow streets I hear someone call to me in a friendly tone “Karibu Sana!”, meaning welcome in Swahili. I look to my nursing friend Arsheen completely clueless to what I should say in return, “Asante sana” she replies, Thank you very much. A smile stretched across my face as I realized my child hood dream had become a reality, I was finally in Africa.
My dreams continued as I explored the Old Town market. The bustle of bold colors and vendors lined the streets eagerly waiting for their next exchange, if they didn’t have what you were looking for you could guarantee they would go out of their way to find it for you. Each step I took I experienced something new, my senses were heightened. A farmers market with an African twist of world class spices, fruits, meat markets, fish auctions, and live chickens running around (until you were ready to eat one that is). All the veggies and fruit were locally grown and organic, my obsession with culture and the flavors of the spice island had begun.
Arsheen guided me as I transitioned into my new world; her grace and kindness never left my side. The gratitude I feel for Arsheen is only the beginning compared to the beautiful friendship I now have with her now. She shared her passion with me, one that has left an imprint on my life.
Connections unite us; give us the opportunity to be apart of something greater. Every day we made connections with people in the community, some with a foundation from the years Arsheen had spent there previously. People would crave the opportunity to share genuine moments with us. Simple smiles would turn into relationships. In each smile I could feel my passion for this community growing.
One local family, the Hashimes, took us into their home as one of their own. Mama, the mother of the house had dark gentle eyes. With her I felt a unique trust I have only felt with my own family. Every morning she prepared us breakfast consisting of: Mangos, Bananas, Jackfruits, and coffee with coconut milk. Her kindness was evident in every moment we shared.
While eating our arranged breakfast I asked where the Hashimes bought their fruit. Shah, Mama’s son, began to tell us about the Vuai family farm fourty minutes out of town. The next day, to my surprise, Shah had arranged for Arsheen and I to visit the farm. The farm was in the dense African forest. Upon arrival we were greeted by the entire Vuai family, from newborns to seniors. They didn’t speak any english so Shah became our interpreter. Without hesitation, the Vuai’s guided us through their farm, filling our belly’s on the way with beautiful ripe fruit. The 30 foot coconut trees were climbed with ease with the support of one palm leaf on their feet. Their farm was wild and dense without fences or restriction. They gave everything they could without hesitation. We felt blessed to be so fully accepted by a family who didn’t even speak our language.
Our connections grew as we toured Zanzibar. We met some dear friends, Erin a free spirited physiotherapist from Canada and Wilfred a visionary business man from Kenya. We shared our story about Vulai family and decided we wanted to give back to them. Using Shah and Wilfred as our interpreters we all piled into a taxi and went back to the jungle. Erin and Wilfred were greeted with the same respect that we were and the fruit offerings were again overflowing. Our gift to the Vulai’s was a freezer to help them preserve their food and a television. The television would help the family, and the village, learn how to speak English. Honored by our gesture they dedicated a shoki shoki tree to us and considered us part of their lives. I never wanted to leave.
In absolute wonder I watched life come into this world at the Mnazi Mnoja hospital. It is one of the most powerful experiences I have ever been apart of. The strength of the African woman made me feel delicate and the innocence of the new borns gave me hope. Arsheen and the local medical staff brought me comfort as I adjusted to the standards of the hospital. Through example they taught me to have confidence and use my knowledge to serve the community as a nurse. Within a weeks time I myself delivered a beautiful baby girl into this world. There’s no greater gift that I could have received.
I could talk about the Orphanage, fishing on the Indian ocean, my new tattoo or painting graffiti on the walls of Zanzibar beach, but instead I’m going to concentrate on what I really wish to speak about. The people of Zanzibar are strong and ethical people, the greatest thing that they lack is opportunity. Coming back to a city full of prosperity my mind is fixed on the narrow streets of Stone town. To connect with them again, to share our stories, to learn their language and embrace their mixed culture. My vision is to give opportunities, to give them hope and see their lives flourish.
Always,
Leah
My dreams continued as I explored the Old Town market. The bustle of bold colors and vendors lined the streets eagerly waiting for their next exchange, if they didn’t have what you were looking for you could guarantee they would go out of their way to find it for you. Each step I took I experienced something new, my senses were heightened. A farmers market with an African twist of world class spices, fruits, meat markets, fish auctions, and live chickens running around (until you were ready to eat one that is). All the veggies and fruit were locally grown and organic, my obsession with culture and the flavors of the spice island had begun.
Arsheen guided me as I transitioned into my new world; her grace and kindness never left my side. The gratitude I feel for Arsheen is only the beginning compared to the beautiful friendship I now have with her now. She shared her passion with me, one that has left an imprint on my life.
Connections unite us; give us the opportunity to be apart of something greater. Every day we made connections with people in the community, some with a foundation from the years Arsheen had spent there previously. People would crave the opportunity to share genuine moments with us. Simple smiles would turn into relationships. In each smile I could feel my passion for this community growing.
One local family, the Hashimes, took us into their home as one of their own. Mama, the mother of the house had dark gentle eyes. With her I felt a unique trust I have only felt with my own family. Every morning she prepared us breakfast consisting of: Mangos, Bananas, Jackfruits, and coffee with coconut milk. Her kindness was evident in every moment we shared.
While eating our arranged breakfast I asked where the Hashimes bought their fruit. Shah, Mama’s son, began to tell us about the Vuai family farm fourty minutes out of town. The next day, to my surprise, Shah had arranged for Arsheen and I to visit the farm. The farm was in the dense African forest. Upon arrival we were greeted by the entire Vuai family, from newborns to seniors. They didn’t speak any english so Shah became our interpreter. Without hesitation, the Vuai’s guided us through their farm, filling our belly’s on the way with beautiful ripe fruit. The 30 foot coconut trees were climbed with ease with the support of one palm leaf on their feet. Their farm was wild and dense without fences or restriction. They gave everything they could without hesitation. We felt blessed to be so fully accepted by a family who didn’t even speak our language.
Our connections grew as we toured Zanzibar. We met some dear friends, Erin a free spirited physiotherapist from Canada and Wilfred a visionary business man from Kenya. We shared our story about Vulai family and decided we wanted to give back to them. Using Shah and Wilfred as our interpreters we all piled into a taxi and went back to the jungle. Erin and Wilfred were greeted with the same respect that we were and the fruit offerings were again overflowing. Our gift to the Vulai’s was a freezer to help them preserve their food and a television. The television would help the family, and the village, learn how to speak English. Honored by our gesture they dedicated a shoki shoki tree to us and considered us part of their lives. I never wanted to leave.
In absolute wonder I watched life come into this world at the Mnazi Mnoja hospital. It is one of the most powerful experiences I have ever been apart of. The strength of the African woman made me feel delicate and the innocence of the new borns gave me hope. Arsheen and the local medical staff brought me comfort as I adjusted to the standards of the hospital. Through example they taught me to have confidence and use my knowledge to serve the community as a nurse. Within a weeks time I myself delivered a beautiful baby girl into this world. There’s no greater gift that I could have received.
I could talk about the Orphanage, fishing on the Indian ocean, my new tattoo or painting graffiti on the walls of Zanzibar beach, but instead I’m going to concentrate on what I really wish to speak about. The people of Zanzibar are strong and ethical people, the greatest thing that they lack is opportunity. Coming back to a city full of prosperity my mind is fixed on the narrow streets of Stone town. To connect with them again, to share our stories, to learn their language and embrace their mixed culture. My vision is to give opportunities, to give them hope and see their lives flourish.
Always,
Leah
AWESTRUCK BY BEAUTY... WELCOME TO ZANZIBAR
Posted by Arsheen on Saturday, 19 January 2013
Posted by Arsheen on Saturday, 19 January 2013
I have this vision about starting an organization to enable volunteerism and help bring better resources and supplies to the hospital and orphanage in Stone Town |
There is something so uniquely intriguing about Zanzibar, a beautiful energy that it keeps pulling me back. Stone Town marvels with narrow streets, winding alleyways, historical stone buildings, grand churches and stunning mosques. A town sparkling with Arab, Indian, European and Persian influences, unfolding a beautiful Swahili language and culture. And the people, I could write a novel on the people. As humble and welcoming as they are, it just warms my heart. I am struck by the enchanting beauty of it all. My grandparents once walked the streets of Stone Town, and when I do the same thing, I start to imagine them growing up in the same area, playing in the same soccer field, buying luscious spices and fruits from the same market, and absorbing the same sun on Zanzibar’s beaches.
That is what brought me to Zanzibar in 2010 after I had completed school, I wanted to learn more about where my grandparents grew up. Since then, I've been back a few times. It was during the 2010 World Cup in South Africa when I arrived in Zanzibar, the whole continent was buzzing. This time of year, so many people on the streets would be humming or singing “this time for Africa” or “they’ll call me freedom, just like a waving flag”. The energy was positive, the town was alive. That part hasn’t changed since, I notice how people naturally greet others on the streets and are never in a rush to get to where they’re going. In Stone Town, there’s a perfect balance. You can find areas where there are lots of people, hanging out, sitting by the ocean, listening to their radios or playing board games, or you can find areas where there are no people, and instead opportunities to let go of everything and clear your mind. I think the sunsets here are better than any I’ve ever seen. At night, you can smell food grilling at street corners, and see people gathering to eat together. There is never a dull moment in Forodhani Gardens, where people are eating, socializing and even diving into the ocean off the edge of the park – fully clothed, shoes and all. It gets dark so early, so many visible stars, they light up the sky.
I stayed with a lady and her two sons in Stone Town. I traveled by myself, with an open mind, prepared to embrace a different culture and way of life. The hospital I planned to volunteer at was only walking distance from where I stayed, and everything else was so close, I felt safe. The youngest of the brothers, Alen, was 10 when I met him. I remember when he first warmed up to me, and decided to walk with me to the hospital one morning. He wanted to know how my stethoscope worked, so before we left, I showed him. He listened to my heart and then his own. He was convinced that they were speakers and that they could work for people that couldn’t hear. Then he put it to his forehead, and when I asked what he was doing he said, “Maybe I can hear what I’m thinking”. I have kept him close to me over the years, he’s the younger brother I never had. Mama Neni taught us that even though you have a lot on your mind, and you're thinking of where you should be going to next, it is important to stop and get some air before you leave home. In the morning, she insists that we spend some time sitting on the balcony before we start our day. Alen would do this with me a lot before he went to school and I went to the hospital, a simple reminder to live in the moment.
The hospital is not just one building, but several buildings and levels for various specialities. It is a big hospital with lots of staff and lots of patients. I chose to volunteer in the maternity ward during my placement. The mornings are busy with new admissions, ward rounds and teaching on the maternity ward. The department consists of a labour room of 16-20 beds, a delivery room with 3 steel beds, an operating room, a neonatal ICU, and post natal room with 16-20 beds. After morning rounds, I would stay in the delivery room. In the beginning, the language barrier was challenging for me when trying to connect with the women. I learned a few new words in Swahili in the first few days, bado, tayari, msukumo and hongera. These words mean, respectively, not ready, ok ready, push and congratulations. I have probably said them a hundred times since.
Over time, and with patience, I learned multiple ways to gracefully be present for her experience, to help her feel supported and safe, and it was hardly ever verbal. Working in labour and delivery in the developing world was different from anything I had ever experienced, it was overwhelming and magical all at once. So many deliveries, and so much action. Lots of skill, but limited resources. I found myself in several situations where quick decisions had to be made to instill the best possible practice and aim for the best outcome, with limited supplies and lack of medication. The women on labour and delivery are advised to bring a basket of several items with them, including sterile gloves for physicians and nurses to use, kangas (traditional scarves, to clothe the baby and mother), and their own food and water. The only babies that are bathed by nurses are the one’s admitted to the neonatal ICU – since they have a longer stay. The mothers or their family members are responsible for teaching, bathing and feeding on the post natal unit. The difference in the delivery of health care was eye-opening for me, and of course, this is of the norm here and accepted. The doctors and midwives are so skilled and experienced. If they had more staff, resources and supplies to assess, teach, and provide – then things would be different. When you have wards full of women, those who are about to deliver, and those who have delivered, how do you prioritize your care? You have to put your efforts into the urgent scenarios, and unfortunately there is seldom enough time to devote to the extremely important, post-partum piece.
The orphanage I would go to at was in Forodhani Gardens at the time. All 50 children resided in a stone building, above the main tunnel. There was only natural light from the windows, and when it got dark, it was hard to see where you were going inside. The orphanage blessed my heart and broke it at the same time. They had so little, and shared so much. They were one big family, the young adults raising the young children. They were wonderful, playful, strong-willed, and amazing. So eager to live for the day and learn for the future. I didn’t have to do much, other than be available. I would go there, and sit with them in their classroom, and teach them what they wanted to learn. I can even say that the best time spent was consoling, holding and hugging them when they cried or when they just needed human contact. Some of the children would latch on to me, as if they hadn’t never experienced that close feeling of being held and protected, and perhaps they hadn’t. I loved going there. Now they have moved to a building just outside of the town, and it’s much better than where they were. When I go back, I always ensure I spend time there.
There were several students and volunteers that I had met at the hospital and orphanage from all over the world in 2010. We would spend our evenings and days off together, exploring the island and absorbing the beautiful culture and people. Alen would love to join us all at restaurants, in Forodhani and at local events like the Zanzibar Film Festival. I was never alone on this island. If I wasn’t enjoying the view across the vast ocean behind Africa House, then I was sitting on the grass, playing guitar with people, and enjoying being in the midst of all that was happening around me - guys playing football on the beach, people working out together along the shore, kids playing in the water. I would stay until the sun would set. I always think of how lucky I was to have built some lasting friendships with people who live in Zanzibar.
Alen and I had a new found love for a local restaurant in Zanzibar that year. The owner lived next door and invited us to meet his wife and his monkey. His crazy monkey got into the red paint that was used in the restaurant and has been a red monkey ever since. We had been there enough times since that the staff remembered our order when we were back in 2013. After my first trip, after meeting Alen and others, I knew that this wasn’t the last time I would be in Zanzibar.
I returned to Zanzibar in 2011, this time I brought my mom and sister. I still went to the hospital to work in labour and delivery, and I also brought my family to the orphanage to spend time with the children I met the year before. It was incredible, to spend be there with my mom, and to bring her back to the town where her mom was born. It was the month of Ramadan when I returned in 2012. You would know it if you spent in on this island. Every day the fast is broken with the preparation of several dishes and families meet at home to eat together. At night, people will usually eat again before going to sleep. On the streets of Stone Town, young men with instruments will walk around singing and dancing to wake everyone up. The song they sing not only calls the people, but also the mothers to feed them. This happens every night around 12:30, you won't miss it. It is a communal way of getting everyone up to eat again before the fast. Some of the younger guys are also involved in the soccer tournament that happens annually at this time as well. At 4:30 in the afternoon every day, a soccer match starts. Every single person on the field has been fasting all day. They play their hearts out for the hour in the sun without a drop of water. As the sun starts to set, they finish the game and head home to pray and then eat. There were over 10 teams in that tournament and the winning team got two goats, the player with the most goals got a chicken and the most valuable player got a duck.
By January 2013, I was on my way back. This time with another nurse and good friend, Leah. Again, another moving and meaningful experience for me. With an open mind and open heart, she let me arrange our stay with the Hashim family, and arrange for us to volunteer at the hospital and in the orphanage. We explored the wonders of the island together, with the good company of Shah, Wilfred and Erin, and under the delicate care of Maa, the mother of the home we all stayed in.
Introducing Leah to the labour and delivery was so much fun for me. She lit up every time we would complete a delivery and prepare newborns to go home with their mothers. I showed her everything I learned over the years, and she watched me intently, in awe, eager to learn, assist and engage. To watch her lead a birthing experience on her own, just brought shivers to my spine. It was nice to come back to familiar faces and to meet new staff as well. Spending time listening to Dr. Jaffar and his colleagues talk about their successes and challenges made me only that more confident that implementing an external support system for the ward could potentially lead to better maternal and newborn health. Erin came to observe the daily activities on the labour and delivery ward before heading to the physiotherapy department. And then she took Leah and I to her world in the physio department, and explained how the department works, and what vision they have for the future. They wanted her to come back and be a part of it all. It was amazing how she connected with people wherever she went.
Leah loved the fresh and exotic fruit in Zanzibar, and this is what lead us to meeting the Vuai family together through Shah. The family generously gifted all of us from the house with their hospitality, open arms and an abundance of fresh fruit from their trees. Leah and the group felt very connected to the family, and Shah helped us search the market for a freezer and television to give to them as a gift before we left Zanzibar. When we arrived, the Vuai family told us that the shoki shoki tree was dedicated to us, and that we should come enjoy the fruit when we return. We sat with the family, ate shoki shoki and other fruits together and enjoyed the moment. It was an amazing gifting experience, and they left a lasting impression on our lives.
Wilfred and I talked a lot during this trip, about our goals, about life, and about the significance of doing what makes you happy. I talked to him a lot about how every time I come and leave, I have this vision about starting an organization to enable volunteerism and help bring better resources and supplies to the hospital and orphanage in Stone Town. He asked me what’s stopping me. I told him, I can talk to anyone about it, but when I pick up a pen and try to put all my thoughts on paper, I can never think of the perfect first sentence. He started to ask me so many questions about it, why the name Daraja, who it would serve, how I would do it, what would make it unique. He was so intrigued.
Wilfred went back to Kenya before Leah and I left to return home. That day, when we got back from the hospital, Shah’s mom came to me and said Wilfred had asked her to give me something, and that it was in my room. I went in there and saw a few pieces of paper stapled together. A document that read, "Daraja Foundation" on the front, with a picture of the Vuai family. I flipped through the pages, and saw that Wilfred had typed up every thought I had shared with him. It was structured, with a mission, vision and strategy. It had everything from the hospital to families in the community. At the bottom of the last page he wrote, “Arsheen! Hope this info helps. Live your best life”.
I reminisce about this trip a lot. We played guitar often, went fishing, cooked dinner in the dark when the electricity went out. One day we went to Forodhani Gardens at night with Alen and his sister Iya, and we brought one of our guitars with us. We played, and people gathered around, singing. One man stood up when we sang the 'lion sleeps tonight..', he swayed and sang along with his eyes closed, like the music was going through his body. It was powerful, and made me so happy to be there to see it.
Wilfred's support became a token of my motivation, and I knew that I had the support of the people around me at home, the people I traveled with and those that I met along the way. Leah and Wilfred had already decided they wanted to maintain the connections they made, and we all agreed Daraja would enable that. The support of close family and friends, members of the foundation and a strong board of directors, is what really made it happen. Daraja means bridge in Swahili. It's about embracing connections and sharing human experiences. It's about being able to contribute to the health and wellbeing of another person across the world. It's about being present, making the best out of every encounter, and living the best life. It's simple, and that's what makes it extraordinary.
Arsheen
That is what brought me to Zanzibar in 2010 after I had completed school, I wanted to learn more about where my grandparents grew up. Since then, I've been back a few times. It was during the 2010 World Cup in South Africa when I arrived in Zanzibar, the whole continent was buzzing. This time of year, so many people on the streets would be humming or singing “this time for Africa” or “they’ll call me freedom, just like a waving flag”. The energy was positive, the town was alive. That part hasn’t changed since, I notice how people naturally greet others on the streets and are never in a rush to get to where they’re going. In Stone Town, there’s a perfect balance. You can find areas where there are lots of people, hanging out, sitting by the ocean, listening to their radios or playing board games, or you can find areas where there are no people, and instead opportunities to let go of everything and clear your mind. I think the sunsets here are better than any I’ve ever seen. At night, you can smell food grilling at street corners, and see people gathering to eat together. There is never a dull moment in Forodhani Gardens, where people are eating, socializing and even diving into the ocean off the edge of the park – fully clothed, shoes and all. It gets dark so early, so many visible stars, they light up the sky.
I stayed with a lady and her two sons in Stone Town. I traveled by myself, with an open mind, prepared to embrace a different culture and way of life. The hospital I planned to volunteer at was only walking distance from where I stayed, and everything else was so close, I felt safe. The youngest of the brothers, Alen, was 10 when I met him. I remember when he first warmed up to me, and decided to walk with me to the hospital one morning. He wanted to know how my stethoscope worked, so before we left, I showed him. He listened to my heart and then his own. He was convinced that they were speakers and that they could work for people that couldn’t hear. Then he put it to his forehead, and when I asked what he was doing he said, “Maybe I can hear what I’m thinking”. I have kept him close to me over the years, he’s the younger brother I never had. Mama Neni taught us that even though you have a lot on your mind, and you're thinking of where you should be going to next, it is important to stop and get some air before you leave home. In the morning, she insists that we spend some time sitting on the balcony before we start our day. Alen would do this with me a lot before he went to school and I went to the hospital, a simple reminder to live in the moment.
The hospital is not just one building, but several buildings and levels for various specialities. It is a big hospital with lots of staff and lots of patients. I chose to volunteer in the maternity ward during my placement. The mornings are busy with new admissions, ward rounds and teaching on the maternity ward. The department consists of a labour room of 16-20 beds, a delivery room with 3 steel beds, an operating room, a neonatal ICU, and post natal room with 16-20 beds. After morning rounds, I would stay in the delivery room. In the beginning, the language barrier was challenging for me when trying to connect with the women. I learned a few new words in Swahili in the first few days, bado, tayari, msukumo and hongera. These words mean, respectively, not ready, ok ready, push and congratulations. I have probably said them a hundred times since.
Over time, and with patience, I learned multiple ways to gracefully be present for her experience, to help her feel supported and safe, and it was hardly ever verbal. Working in labour and delivery in the developing world was different from anything I had ever experienced, it was overwhelming and magical all at once. So many deliveries, and so much action. Lots of skill, but limited resources. I found myself in several situations where quick decisions had to be made to instill the best possible practice and aim for the best outcome, with limited supplies and lack of medication. The women on labour and delivery are advised to bring a basket of several items with them, including sterile gloves for physicians and nurses to use, kangas (traditional scarves, to clothe the baby and mother), and their own food and water. The only babies that are bathed by nurses are the one’s admitted to the neonatal ICU – since they have a longer stay. The mothers or their family members are responsible for teaching, bathing and feeding on the post natal unit. The difference in the delivery of health care was eye-opening for me, and of course, this is of the norm here and accepted. The doctors and midwives are so skilled and experienced. If they had more staff, resources and supplies to assess, teach, and provide – then things would be different. When you have wards full of women, those who are about to deliver, and those who have delivered, how do you prioritize your care? You have to put your efforts into the urgent scenarios, and unfortunately there is seldom enough time to devote to the extremely important, post-partum piece.
The orphanage I would go to at was in Forodhani Gardens at the time. All 50 children resided in a stone building, above the main tunnel. There was only natural light from the windows, and when it got dark, it was hard to see where you were going inside. The orphanage blessed my heart and broke it at the same time. They had so little, and shared so much. They were one big family, the young adults raising the young children. They were wonderful, playful, strong-willed, and amazing. So eager to live for the day and learn for the future. I didn’t have to do much, other than be available. I would go there, and sit with them in their classroom, and teach them what they wanted to learn. I can even say that the best time spent was consoling, holding and hugging them when they cried or when they just needed human contact. Some of the children would latch on to me, as if they hadn’t never experienced that close feeling of being held and protected, and perhaps they hadn’t. I loved going there. Now they have moved to a building just outside of the town, and it’s much better than where they were. When I go back, I always ensure I spend time there.
There were several students and volunteers that I had met at the hospital and orphanage from all over the world in 2010. We would spend our evenings and days off together, exploring the island and absorbing the beautiful culture and people. Alen would love to join us all at restaurants, in Forodhani and at local events like the Zanzibar Film Festival. I was never alone on this island. If I wasn’t enjoying the view across the vast ocean behind Africa House, then I was sitting on the grass, playing guitar with people, and enjoying being in the midst of all that was happening around me - guys playing football on the beach, people working out together along the shore, kids playing in the water. I would stay until the sun would set. I always think of how lucky I was to have built some lasting friendships with people who live in Zanzibar.
Alen and I had a new found love for a local restaurant in Zanzibar that year. The owner lived next door and invited us to meet his wife and his monkey. His crazy monkey got into the red paint that was used in the restaurant and has been a red monkey ever since. We had been there enough times since that the staff remembered our order when we were back in 2013. After my first trip, after meeting Alen and others, I knew that this wasn’t the last time I would be in Zanzibar.
I returned to Zanzibar in 2011, this time I brought my mom and sister. I still went to the hospital to work in labour and delivery, and I also brought my family to the orphanage to spend time with the children I met the year before. It was incredible, to spend be there with my mom, and to bring her back to the town where her mom was born. It was the month of Ramadan when I returned in 2012. You would know it if you spent in on this island. Every day the fast is broken with the preparation of several dishes and families meet at home to eat together. At night, people will usually eat again before going to sleep. On the streets of Stone Town, young men with instruments will walk around singing and dancing to wake everyone up. The song they sing not only calls the people, but also the mothers to feed them. This happens every night around 12:30, you won't miss it. It is a communal way of getting everyone up to eat again before the fast. Some of the younger guys are also involved in the soccer tournament that happens annually at this time as well. At 4:30 in the afternoon every day, a soccer match starts. Every single person on the field has been fasting all day. They play their hearts out for the hour in the sun without a drop of water. As the sun starts to set, they finish the game and head home to pray and then eat. There were over 10 teams in that tournament and the winning team got two goats, the player with the most goals got a chicken and the most valuable player got a duck.
By January 2013, I was on my way back. This time with another nurse and good friend, Leah. Again, another moving and meaningful experience for me. With an open mind and open heart, she let me arrange our stay with the Hashim family, and arrange for us to volunteer at the hospital and in the orphanage. We explored the wonders of the island together, with the good company of Shah, Wilfred and Erin, and under the delicate care of Maa, the mother of the home we all stayed in.
Introducing Leah to the labour and delivery was so much fun for me. She lit up every time we would complete a delivery and prepare newborns to go home with their mothers. I showed her everything I learned over the years, and she watched me intently, in awe, eager to learn, assist and engage. To watch her lead a birthing experience on her own, just brought shivers to my spine. It was nice to come back to familiar faces and to meet new staff as well. Spending time listening to Dr. Jaffar and his colleagues talk about their successes and challenges made me only that more confident that implementing an external support system for the ward could potentially lead to better maternal and newborn health. Erin came to observe the daily activities on the labour and delivery ward before heading to the physiotherapy department. And then she took Leah and I to her world in the physio department, and explained how the department works, and what vision they have for the future. They wanted her to come back and be a part of it all. It was amazing how she connected with people wherever she went.
Leah loved the fresh and exotic fruit in Zanzibar, and this is what lead us to meeting the Vuai family together through Shah. The family generously gifted all of us from the house with their hospitality, open arms and an abundance of fresh fruit from their trees. Leah and the group felt very connected to the family, and Shah helped us search the market for a freezer and television to give to them as a gift before we left Zanzibar. When we arrived, the Vuai family told us that the shoki shoki tree was dedicated to us, and that we should come enjoy the fruit when we return. We sat with the family, ate shoki shoki and other fruits together and enjoyed the moment. It was an amazing gifting experience, and they left a lasting impression on our lives.
Wilfred and I talked a lot during this trip, about our goals, about life, and about the significance of doing what makes you happy. I talked to him a lot about how every time I come and leave, I have this vision about starting an organization to enable volunteerism and help bring better resources and supplies to the hospital and orphanage in Stone Town. He asked me what’s stopping me. I told him, I can talk to anyone about it, but when I pick up a pen and try to put all my thoughts on paper, I can never think of the perfect first sentence. He started to ask me so many questions about it, why the name Daraja, who it would serve, how I would do it, what would make it unique. He was so intrigued.
Wilfred went back to Kenya before Leah and I left to return home. That day, when we got back from the hospital, Shah’s mom came to me and said Wilfred had asked her to give me something, and that it was in my room. I went in there and saw a few pieces of paper stapled together. A document that read, "Daraja Foundation" on the front, with a picture of the Vuai family. I flipped through the pages, and saw that Wilfred had typed up every thought I had shared with him. It was structured, with a mission, vision and strategy. It had everything from the hospital to families in the community. At the bottom of the last page he wrote, “Arsheen! Hope this info helps. Live your best life”.
I reminisce about this trip a lot. We played guitar often, went fishing, cooked dinner in the dark when the electricity went out. One day we went to Forodhani Gardens at night with Alen and his sister Iya, and we brought one of our guitars with us. We played, and people gathered around, singing. One man stood up when we sang the 'lion sleeps tonight..', he swayed and sang along with his eyes closed, like the music was going through his body. It was powerful, and made me so happy to be there to see it.
Wilfred's support became a token of my motivation, and I knew that I had the support of the people around me at home, the people I traveled with and those that I met along the way. Leah and Wilfred had already decided they wanted to maintain the connections they made, and we all agreed Daraja would enable that. The support of close family and friends, members of the foundation and a strong board of directors, is what really made it happen. Daraja means bridge in Swahili. It's about embracing connections and sharing human experiences. It's about being able to contribute to the health and wellbeing of another person across the world. It's about being present, making the best out of every encounter, and living the best life. It's simple, and that's what makes it extraordinary.
Arsheen