Ombogo Girls Academy

After all the tales I have heard about Ombogo Girls Academy, we finally arrive at Homa Bay and the institution where Betty went to secondary school. This is where our journey started.

The school is well established, with two dormitories, classrooms, a gathering hall for church and food. But everything looks very tired. Regardless, it is the girls who are vibrant. Our visit starts with a gathering in the courtyard; we, the honored guests, sit in the shade of the veranda above the girls, who sit on chairs, in the sun. The head of the school, Honorable Okundi and his wife Mama, give speeches and rally the girls to respond. The principal also talks, and introduces the teachers, and then us to the girls. She asks each of the guests to make a speech. I momentarily panic, trying to think of something meaningful to say on such short notice. Betty and Richard speak, while I conjure.

I get up to say something (I have no idea what it was) and then, true to my nature when I am in the classroom, I get going just fine. Who knows what I said, but I caught the girls’ attention, and they laughed, so I know they can relate. I tell them I would love to chat with them personally, and hear their stories. Later, I find out that Betty asked Richard if I was looking for a new daughter (I assured her that she is my one and only!)

After this more formal, scripted event, the class officers come to take us around the school, and girls trail along and want to know things about us. Of course, they are used to students from Bellingham by now, so they are immediately relaxed and intimate with us.

Some of the girls from Form 1 & 2, in front of their dorm, which is called the “Ghetto,” because the floor is made of uneven wood planks, open to the earth below (Form 3 & 4 get the dorm with concrete floors.)

Dorms and classrooms

Washing at the well. The well water is salty, so the school relies on water collection tanks for drinking water. There were times, when Betty was there, when the girls were limited to a 500 ml. bottle of water for the week (that’s about a a pint.)

Water collection tanks. When I was in boarding school, the thing was to sneak out to the woods, for a smoke with my buddies. Pauline and her friends snuck out to the water tanks, and climbed on each others’ shoulders to get to the top and sneak some extra water. One time they heard someone coming, and scrambled, forgetting the girl who was on top of the tank. She ended up in the tank, which fortunately wasn’t too full at the time. Punishment for all: you had to wash, and then oil, a tree. You had to use your oil, or steal it from another girl.

Yes, that’s right. Don’t ask me why. Betty didn’t get it either.

Things seem to be better at Ombogo now, and there’s more water for everyone.

Saturday church at Ombogo. These young women have strong, beautiful voices, and the singing is a joy to listen to.

As I walk on from the dorms, 2 girls tag along with me and the class officer; they want to tell me their stories. They are both orphans who were brought to the school by an uncle or a friend of the family. They, along with 3 other orphans, can’t afford the school fees. Whenever the school tries to terminate one girl’s matriculation at the school, she says she cries until they relent and let her stay. I tell the girls to make sure Carol, our liaison with the school, gets their pictures and stories. We will try to find them a sponsor in Bellingham. Sadly, Slum Doctor Programme no longer focuses on these programmes, and have moved on to agricultural development programmes.

The need for these girls is dramatic and real. Inside the gates of Ombogo they get food, education, a bed to sleep on, and a safe community. If they have to leave, they don’t even have a home to go back to. I can barely stand the need in this country, whose government refuses to open its eyes.