Portia Bayor

I have had a few people ask me if and how they could support the work that I am doing here. The Peace Corps has a couple of ways that they have suggest for people to donate to certain causes. However, I hesitate in doing an organized “fund raising” for a couple of reasons. For one, I don’t want to make anyone to feel pressured by PC into giving money. Second, due to the blatant corruption here, even if there was something I think is a good cause, I don’t know how much of the money would actually go to the cause, and how much would end up in someone’s pocket. Third, money isn’t the cure all. I’ve seen too many times where an NGO (non profit organization) throws money at a noble cause, such as a bore hole, or public latrines or even computers, and have the things waste away without being used, because the NGO didn’t get the community’s involvement or, they didn’t properly train the people on the use of thing.
There is however someone I would like to introduce you to. Her name Is Portia Bayor. She is a 27 year old single mom and this is her story:
I live in what is called a compound house. It is a kind of like a dorm of sorts. There are two families that live here with me. They share one “kitchen”, (actually they do most of their cooking outside on a charcoal grill. Portia comes everyday to prepare dinner for the two families. One night she brought me Banku, which is ground corn that is made into a fermented dough ball that they serve with an okra stew. As I ate, I asked her to tell me about herself and what her plans are in the future.
She was going to school up in the Northern part of Ghana, and at age 16, she fell in love with a boy, and got pregnant. She had to drop out of school, because having a child out of wedlock is a disgraceful thing and she wanted to keep her baby. Her plan was to continue with school after the baby was born. Meanwhile, her boy friend took off- she later found out that he had gotten another girl pregnant in a different village. He is completely out of the picture and has not supported her at all.
About the same time, her father passed away, so she was living with her mom. Since she was not going to school and not working, she become what is called here “ a small girl”. Basically she became a servant to the compound where she lived. It’s culturally accepted to have a small girl here. They get up at 5:00 am, sweep the compound, get meals ready, clean the house, bring in the firewood (fuel for the fire to cook on), and fetch water. To give you an idea what I mean by fetching water, the kids will carry a five gallon or more container of water on their head. They get the water either from a bore hole or the river. I have seen kids have to walk over a mile to fetch water. Not an easy task.
Eight years later, life hasn’t gotten much easier for Portia. She has moved to Wenchi, and managed to finish high school. Her daughter lives in my compound with Portia’s sister and husband. Portia can not afford to raise her because she has no money. She is now the small girl for my compound. Even though she finished high school, she failed her final test in math, science and economics. She would like to continue her education and go to nursing school, but she can’t until she retakes her test. In order to do that she needs to hire a tutor for the three classes. The registration fee for the courses is around $75 and then and additional $75 for the cost of paying the tutor. If she had an opportunity to go back to school, she will be able to have a life back again.
$150. What is that? A dinner out and a movie? Not a ton of money for us, but for Portia, it could change her future. If you feel called to help, write me an email. whtmtns@yahoo.com This might not be as grandiose as donating a library to a school, but helping one person gain an education and possibly a career could make a world of difference.
I remember hearing a story that has stayed with me for years. One morning on the coast of Maine, a little boy went down for a walk on the beach. When he stepped onto the sand, he noticed that the ocean had washed thousands of starfish on the beach. He noticed an old timer bending down, picking up, one by one, a starfish and throwing it back into the ocean. The little boy went up to the old man and asked what is was doing.
“I’m trying to save these starfish from getting eaten by the gulls or dying in the sun,” the man answered, bending down and picking up another one. Looking down the beach and seeing the thousands of starfish that covered the beach the boy said, “Mister, look at all these starfish. There is no way you can possibly make a difference.” The old man paused and looked at the small starfish in his cracked and weather worn hands. “Well, maybe your right,” he said, “but I can make a difference in this one.”

We all have a chance a life to make a difference in someone’s life. Whether or not you act upon it, is up to you.
Cheers,
Wayne