Friends of Gueoul

Let’s go way back, back to the very first, to the first unlikely beginning.

1991. Judy was in her 2nd year in the Peace Corps in Guéoul, living in the compound of Fatou Sylla. Fatou was the grandmother of 5 kids, all cousins, who had come to live with her. There were no other adults in the family.

One fine day, a child appeared, pretty much a baby, maybe 2 years old. Astou was Fatou’s great-niece. She was thin, withdrawn, shy, and she had chronic diarrhea. She’d lay down for a nap, wake up and discover she had soiled herself, and start screaming and crying. She knew what was coming next. Fatou would hit her, trying to discipline her to quit soiling herself.

[[[A picture of Astou, sitting on a child’s pot. Caption: Disciplining as a cure for diarrhea – sitting on a pot for 2 hours. ]]]

Why did this child have diarrhea? Judy tried everything. An expensive visit to the clinic. An emphasis on a rice diet. Boiled eggs (a bit of a luxury). She tried educating Fatou that this was a medical problem, but this brilliant and iron-willed and totally illiterate woman would not hear of it. So the beatings continued – but only when Judy was away from the compound. Months passed and eventually Astou recovered. She became bold, her brightness blossomed, and she was no longer dull and withdrawn – she developed a terrific case of the Terrible Two’s – we all celebrated her spirit and her returned good health.

[[[picture of Astou with beret. Caption – Watch out world, here I come!]]]

[[[Might have a picture of her as adult]]]

Judy returned to the States after her tour, but did not forget Astou. She sent back money to keep her in school.

Fast forward – it’s now 2005. Judy, Abdou, John Montaña, and Clare Donnelly went to Guéoul. Astou was now an assured 8th grader. She had more education than any of the four women in the 16-member family compound. Her poise and calm confidence were remarkable. She was consulted by all the other members of the family.

When John heard that she had been getting financial help to stay in school, he exclaimed “Let’s keep a LOT of them in school!” This crazy idea germinated. Discussions were held with Mbaye Samb [[[make a link and we’ll talk about him someplace]]] and because of his leadership in the community, his commitment to his people, and his unshakeable integrity, we had the solid-as-a-rock foundation for a scholarship project.

Our first year, we choose 14 kids in middle-school. Later, we realized that these girls already had family support for staying in school – so the rule was established to bring in 12 girls each year, girls just entering school.

Oh, how proud we are of these girls. They have so many different life stories. There’s the girl whose mother beat her everyday (until we talked with her), there are the many children who are orphalins (one or both parents is dead), there are the many many children whose living fathers are working in the city and they are being raised by a struggling mother. Many live in one-room millet-stalk houses, with barely room for the bed. One lives with a mother who loves green plants – and she’s managed to grow flowers in the sandy yard. Some live in compounds with 20 other people. They all struggle to find time and space to study, to find mentors to help them with their problems with their lessons. They speak Wolof at home. They go to school and are taught in French. Their families don’t have radios or TVs, so they have very little exposure to the language until they go to school. Three of our original students are at the university. With the 2010-11 class, we’ll have reached 86 girls!

This page is dedicated to the one we “lost”. At age 12, she was sent to a remote desert village and forced to marry a much older cousin.