Imagine waking up for that 8:50 class on Friday morning and actually wanting to sit through another lecture. You stumble through the rows of seats, still hazy from last night’s debauchery, and sit down ready for the lesson—only to find that you don’t have a pen. In fact, you haven’t held a writing utensil in weeks because your father’s job isn’t making enough to afford one. Without a pen, the teacher will kindly ask you to leave to make room for a student who has a pen. You can’t partake in school at all without a seemingly insignificant piece of plastic with ink—and without an education, you cannot rise out of the destitute poverty in which you currently live.
Unfortunately, this is everyday life for countless children in the small, landlocked country of Rwanda in east-central Africa. In the summer of 2008, I traveled to Rwanda on a public health mission with a handful of other high school students from all over the United States. We visited health facilities, where we studied the Rwandan healthcare system and visited with AIDS victims, many of whom were raped by Hutu tribesmen during the Rwandan genocide over ten years ago. I danced with tribe leaders, played soccer with AIDS orphans, and ate nothing but rice and plantains for the month that I was there. Needless to say, I saw a lot that a lifetime of living in the suburbs of northern New Jersey hadn’t prepared me for.
But beyond the poor living conditions and unhealthy diet, the children who followed us everywhere struck me most. Most of them had never seen a white person before, so I quickly became familiar with the shouting, “MUZUNGU! MUZUNGU!” which means “white person” in Kinyarwanda. The children weren’t begging for food or money or clothing, though; they were begging for pens. I couldn’t believe it. Pens? As I’m writing this article I have eight pens within my reach. It was inconceivable that I hadn’t heard of a legitimate organization that dealt with this issue; I even spent a significant amount of time scouring the internet in search of a pen-providing charity. Despite the numerous charities and organizations that send various forms of aid to Africa, the niche need of writing utensils had apparently been overlooked. I sat on the idea until I came across one particular quote from Mahatma Gandhi: “You must be the change you wish to see in the world.” I knew I had to do something.
I wanted to get the ball rolling early, so I formed Pens To People at Georgetown, which aims to raise awareness about the overlooked pen issue and to collect new and lightly used pens to donate to African schoolchildren. Mailing donated items to any country in Africa is difficult because, due to the lack of accountability, getting an official confirmation that the children actually received the pens is unlikely to happen. Oftentimes, the pens are stolen. To eliminate this obstacle, we have teamed up with Putney Student Travel so that the high school students who travel to Rwanda this summer will be delivering these pens directly to the children who need them most. As a former participant in Putney Student Travel, I know that these American students will be in contact with pen-less African children, especially in rural areas with under-funded school programs like Nyamata.
We are trying to take unique approaches to attracting interest to our cause. For example, in the very near future, we plan on hosting a Pens To People party at which the entrance fee will be three pens. Also, keep your eyes pealed in the coming weeks for pen donation boxes in dorms all over campus.
Remember that you have the power to make a life-changing difference with just the pen that you found underneath a seat in the ICC Auditorium. Why? Because without pens, these children can’t attend school. Without school, they can’t get an education. And without an education, they have little opportunity to rise out of poverty. Pens To People is trying to make that opportunity a reality.
I may have several hundred pens for your trip. Please email me if you are still collecting them and how to get them to you. DB