New Member of the Family
I spent the entirety of the four months leading up to my time in Ghana with the Global Advocate Program furiously fundraising for an organization I had never seen in action. But after learning about United Hearts Children Center from a distance, I thought I had a pretty good grasp on what made United Hearts special. The commitment to affordable education. A grassroots movement to build a entire school that started under a palm tree. The farming projects to generate sustainable income. I believed in those efforts enough to broadcast to anyone that would listen that United Hearts is deserving of your precious money.
But I’m learning six weeks into my journey with United Hearts that I had no idea what made this place special. Of course what UHCC has done to educate the future leaders of Bawjiase, with sustainability as a core pillar to achieve those goals, is nothing short of remarkable. However, the main lesson I’ve learned from the United Hearts team has less to do with sustainability or project management or grassroots education. It has far more to do with the heart (no pun intended from me, but also was maybe Pastor Elisha’s intention when he named the school??? I’ll ask and get back to you) of this place that gives life and meaning to the services United Hearts provides.
In other words, the past six weeks has been one long stretch of revelations showing what makes United Hearts uniquely United Hearts at its core.
Just over a couple weeks ago on a Tuesday morning, Pastor Elisha solemnly made his way over to school from the orphanage. His eyes heavy, he announced some sad news coming from a nearby village. One of Pastor’s friends lost his wife during the delivery of their baby girl. Shit. It’s the kind of news that rattles you for the next hours and days and weeks. Pastor Elisha reads all of the questions swirling around my mind without even needing me to ask them, going into some more detail of their family’s new reality. His friend, understandably inconsolable and now a single parent, is unable to raise the newborn while also working long hours. It is a hole he will have a very difficult climbing out of any time soon. But all of a sudden, Pastor Elisha shifts his tone, “Come inside with me, I want you to meet the baby.”
There she was, just a couple weeks old. Baby Adom. Baby Grace (Adom = Grace in Twi). The tiniest person I’ve ever seen in my life resting peacefully in Martha’s (Pastor Elisha’s wife) arms. All of a sudden this devastating story revealed a glimmer of hope. Without any hesitation, without any expectation of reciprocity, Pastor Elisha and Martha offered refuge and care for baby Adom. One more member in their giant family at the orphanage. I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe I was expecting Pastor and Martha to be stressed about adding another mouth to feed to their already crammed house. But the smiles on their faces while holding baby Adom told a totally different story — even as we, of course, mourn the loss of Adom’s mother. It told a story of resilience, compassion, and hope. A story of resilience, compassion, and hope that permeates every single thing United Hearts does for the community — but originates in the founders’ vision of better lives for the children in their orbit.
Baby Adom symbolizes everything United Hearts does for the community. No child will go uncared for. No child will be unloved. And no child will be turned away. The foundation of this organization, the foundation that most potently reveals itself in how quickly the entire orphanage mobilized to give Adom a new home, explains everything else. It all makes sense now. The buildings, the development, the farming projects, the school programs. Let me explain.
It now makes sense that United Hearts provides scholarships to most of the students at the school. There’s a nominal fee of 50 GHS (about $10 USD) asked of each student at the beginning of the term. Those who are able to pay, pay. Those who aren’t, work with Headmaster Benedict or Pastor Elisha to find a solution. This cuts against the current of private education in Bawjiase. In fact, all other private schools run as a business. If a family can’t pay the standard 200 GHS entrance fee, the kid is kicked out on the spot. Period. And all school fees paid go directly into the hands of the school proprietor. Maybe consistent payments at United Hearts would ease many of the day-to-day financial concerns the school administration battles. Maybe it would make it easier to have a constant flow of school supplies. I can’t lie and pretend I didn’t think at some point that making school fees compulsory would be sound strategic planning for the overall financial health of the organization. But Pastor Elisha and the rest of the United Hearts family turning someone away because, for whatever reason, the school payment is financially out of reach? After I witnessed what the UHCC community did for baby Adom? Nope. No way. Not a chance. There must be another way. And that attitude is the reason United Hearts refuses to let socio-economic status be a reason a child doesn’t get an education.
It now makes sense that United Hearts invested in a van and a bus to pick up and drop off children each day. I went on the bus route one of my first days working at United Hearts just to go along on the adventure, knowing nothing of what journey lie ahead. I sat patiently in the passenger seat of a van crowded with maybe 40 United Hearts students. The bus chauffeur, Papa Kwao, drove. And drove. And kept driving way outside of Bawjiase through pineapple fields and coconut farms on unimaginably bad dirt roads. We eventually reached a tiny little village of maybe 10 houses. Two kids got out. Then we drove some more, landing at an even smaller village, just 6 houses this time. A family of four siblings hopped off. Papa Kwao popped around from village to village to village until the entire van was empty. Three hours later as the sun was setting over the horizon, we made it back to Bawjiase. Each morning leaving at 5am, and each evening returning after 6pm, this route is traveled by the United Hearts bus. Papa Kwao went on to explain that the United Hearts teaching staff visits all the surrounding villages, no matter the size or distance, to announce that school is starting and enrollment is open. We’ll even pick you up every day, the staff says. The route is long, the roads are treacherous, and the expenses to fix the oft-damaged van/bus are mounting. But Pastor Elisha and the rest of the United Hearts family letting children in far-off villages go uneducated because they don’t have access to schools or transportation? Nope. No way. Not a chance. There must be another way. And that attitude is the reason United Hearts refuses to let proximity to schools be a reason a child doesn’t get an education.
There always must be another way. There are many obstacles, challenges, and unanticipated expenses that come with working as a small nonprofit serving economically disadvantaged children in rural Ghana. But Pastor Elisha, Martha, and the rest of the United Hearts refuse to acknowledge any reason to say no to a child in need of some resilience, compassion, and hope. That’s why we give out scholarships. That’s why we have the bus and the van. And that’s why we labor for our sustainable farms for income to keep the lights on through it all. Working intimately on behalf of United Hearts’ many projects has taught me for certain how hard the UHCC team works to manage this organization. But it took baby Adom — just three weeks old and still figuring out what her limbs are capable of — to uncover the beating heart of this place that gives meaning to all that hard work.
