In 2019, Jambo joined the Pledge 1% global movement with the commitment to give 1% of profits to Classrooms for Africa, a Canadian charitable initiative that helps communities build classrooms in disadvantaged areas of Sub-Saharan Africa
Jambo's UX/UI Lead, Kristen Badley, has written the following guest blog about her 2019 trip to Uganda with Classrooms for Africa. Here, Kristen describes the impact Classrooms for Africa is having on local communities, students and their families.
“Ok, I have a story to tell you. There are four boys. These four boys are standing on a hill looking across at another hill. The boys see 20 trees on the other hill. The boys are four, and the trees are twenty. How many trees did each boy see?"
The teacher smiles, and we chuckle—Robert has set the kids up: he has been asking the children about division up to now, implying this is a division problem. The kids seem to agree the answer is five. Robert smiles as he waves goodbye, telling the kids their teacher will explain the joke.
I grin at Robert, "That was tricky."
He laughs, "Yes, I suppose asking them about division first made it a bit tricky."
Over the next week, I will hear Robert pose this question to several different kids. Some catch on to the trick, while others assume it's a math problem. Sometimes he explains the joke, other times he leaves it for the teacher. He asks me once why I don't answer. "It gives the students a chance to show us what they know and then have a laugh," I explain.
We step out of the classroom and look out over the rolling hills of Uganda. We're up above the city of Kasese, and the view goes on for miles. I am here on an eight-day trip with Classrooms for Africa. This Canadian charity provides funding to communities in Sub-Saharan Africa that have undertaken the challenge of providing education to disadvantaged children.
Along with four other donors, I will be visiting school projects across Uganda funded by the organization. For me, my Ugandan adventure started much earlier than this week. In fact, it started two years earlier with one simple word: "Hello," or as the locals say, "Jambo."
Jambo has a double meaning for me. It is both a Swahili greeting, offered as a welcome to another person and the name of the software company I work for.&
Jambo is a web application designed to help teams organize and manage their stakeholder relationships, as well as easily track their engagement and consultation with these stakeholders. We named the software Jambo because all consultation starts with "hello," but also because we knew we wanted to continue giving back to communities in Africa, where we could make a significant impact. This year, to make our promise to give back official, we joined Pledge 1%.
Pledge 1% is a global movement of organizations committed to giving back 1% of their profit, time, equity or product to deserving causes. For Jambo, we have pledged 1% of our profits to Classrooms for Africa. Through this connection, I am here on behalf of Jambo to see, firsthand, the impact we can make, and that is how I have come to be here in Kasese on this humid day in November.
But, before I get too far ahead, let me introduce myself: my name is Kristen, and I'm the UX/UI Lead for Jambo. On this trip with me are President and CEO Tom Grabowski and his wife, Marilyn, as well as Classrooms for Africa board member Don Dick and his wife, Gail. In-country, we connect with Robert, who works for Classrooms for Africa as a Project Manager. Over eight days, we visit projects throughout the country, meet people who have been directly impacted, and explore a country that is well-deserving of its name, the "Pearl of Africa."
Classrooms for Africa operates differently from many other charitable organizations. The other donors and I aren't going to Africa to build physical classrooms. The local communities don't need us to come to their villages and lay bricks or mix cement, as they already have skilled labourers within their communities ready and available to do the work. They don't need us to ship them supplies from Canada, as they have products and methods that better suit their climate on hand. What they do need from us is support through charitable donations to cover the cost of labour and to purchase materials that they can't make by hand.
Classrooms for Africa provides communities with donations in a secure and well-managed way. They gradually give the funds as the project progresses, paying for each stage as the previous one is completed. The organization also ensures that project management is on-site, making sure projects are completed on time and on budget.
This process ensures that the success rate of completed projects is incredibly high and that donated funds are used effectively and efficiently (95 cents from each dollar goes directly to school projects). Classrooms for Africa also vets each new project before taking it on, ensuring that the community in question fully supports the school before one brick is ever laid.
The schools that our team will visit fall loosely into three categories:
Most of the projects we visit fall into the second category, with at least one classroom building having been completed; however, the schools still require additional work and support. Some schools still need dormitories, while others need kitchens. It's all part of meeting each school's most urgent needs.
At some schools, the old traditional classroom blocks still stand and are still in use (nothing is wasted here). These buildings are primarily constructed from sticks woven between wooden slats and then covered with mud. They are often roofed in thatch, and the floors are just dirt, which means everything is quickly turned to mud during the rainy season.
The new classroom buildings funded by Classrooms for Africa are typically constructed from earth bricks that the schools themselves produce and fire on site. Then, buildings are plastered using locally sourced materials and sealed. The rooms inside are impressively spacious and calm, despite the heat, with ample natural light from well-placed windows. The walls are often covered in homemade vocabulary posters and the students' artwork.
One school that stands out for me is Matere Model School. This is the school in the hills above Kasese where Robert made me laugh and where our story began. This school is an outcropping perched on the tip of a mountain. The views extend for miles and reveal an agricultural community that is very much isolated from its neighbours. The surrounding mountains act as walls, making travel difficult. The school is not yet complete, with scaffolding still in place around the walls and the outer coat still to be applied, but they have made an excellent start. I can't help but think how difficult it must be to get supplies like the iron sheeting for the roof up the steep drive, as it's largely isolated. The school is located up a dirt road that is almost impassable in the rain, and we must hike the last bit on foot through the mud to get there.
When we arrive, the kids welcome us with songs and dances, and the local community is excited to see us. At the end of the welcoming ceremony, the schoolmaster says, "Prepare your drums, we are coming!" The ceremony stays with me and reminds me that today is an important day for this community. Today is a celebration of their achievements, their hope for the future, and their partnership with the Classrooms for Africa donors. It is a fun day for the whole community. We watch the drums and the dancing for a bit as they celebrate together, but as time is limited, we must move on to see the buildings.
The kids here are curious about us. They follow us from room to room. While walking, I am convinced I will trip over them, but they stay just out of reach. They watch everything we do with curiosity. Finally, I kneel to be at their level, and I smile and wave. They want to touch me, to know what my skin is like, but we don't share a language, and while they are curious, they are also shy. When I reach out so they can give me a high five, many hands reach back at once, and soon it is a circle of giggles and laughter.
Later, on the way back down the mountain, we briefly stop at St. John's High School, where the local community is out clearing space for another classroom block development. The clearing is being done with hand tools, and it appears to be much work. The whole community is out helping. It isn't easy to take days off work to clear a patch of ground, but despite the poverty in the community, they want to make sure the school is built. This community cares about its kids and wants the best for them, especially a good education. They want opportunities that they never had, and this desire is universal, as they remind me a lot of my mom and dad looking out for my future.
While seeing schools that are currently in progress makes the most sense to me, it takes me longer to realize why we are visiting completed school projects that no longer need our help. Tom explains to me that we are their partners in education. Our partnership does not end with the completion of a school. We are here to maintain that relationship with them and to demonstrate our continued support for their work and the importance of what they do. It is also a relief to see some of these schools. To see happy kids dancing, and others still in class. To see well-cared-for rooms that have allowed schools to expand. To see schools that, while they could still grow, are meeting the needs of their communities.
Mother Kevin Nursery School is a completed school project located near the Nsambya slum in the Ugandan capital of Kampala. Initially, it educated kids from the nearby orphanage but has since expanded to include more children from the neighbourhood. Here, the young kids are having fun dancing along to music played over the speakers. We investigate the classrooms where colourful signs hang everywhere. Light is abundant in these rooms. We move up to the second level and see more airy rooms and well-built washrooms. What makes me happiest, though, is the smiling kids. Everyone seems so happy, and I don't think they are just excited to have visitors.
Beyond the schools that are almost complete or not yet fully established, there is the Star Nursery and Primary School, which has not yet started but already has an interesting story. The headmistress, Mary Nakato, donated her family's land to build the school. The site already has one block of classrooms, a nursery block and a kitchen. There is a second classroom block that consists of just posts and slats, as well as a church built in the same way. Along one side of the field is the foundation of another block, where the overgrown grass reveals the signs of an abandoned construction project that ran out of funds.
The school has space here, but has obviously reached the limit of what it can do without help. We are careful not to make promises that we can't keep, but I hope donations can fund the project in the future. It becomes clear to me that there is still so much need in this country.
All in all, we visited 10 schools, seven of which have already received donations from Classrooms for Africa donors. Between those seven schools, Classrooms for Africa has impacted the lives of 3,200 students this year alone.
I have one last story to tell you. We are standing on a hill, looking across the valley to the other hill. On the other hill are 800 students, 12 teachers, all their families and friends, the people they will save as doctors and nurses, the children they will impact as teachers, and the multitude of others they will impact in the various roles they will take on in the future. How many classrooms do we each see?
Like Robert's question, this one is also a trick, but the answer isn't simple. It might be none, it might be one, and it might be enough for all of them. I look forward to the day when this isn't a trick question anymore.