All of the below recipes were written down after sitting with the youth and watching how they cook. The recipes are not specific and from organic local vegetables. In general, the quantities were for 3 people.
Pilau (rice with spices)
This is a local dish that can also be found in Zanzibar. We have it at Amani every Sunday.
This will serve 5 people.
Heat oil in pan
Cut onions (about 4) in very fine slices.
Cook until brown
Add pilau spices (flower of pilau masala, or cardamom cloves like in Zanzibar)
Add salt. When the mix is brown, add rice
Stir the rice with the rest and add water
Sweat potato fries
Heat lots of oil
Put potatoes in until soft
Tomato stew w/ coconut sauce and peas or meat
Heat oil in pan
Place thinly sliced onions and brown them
Cut and peel fresh tomatoes
Cover and let cook in its own juices while occasionally stirring to prevent burning and sticking to the bottom of the pan
If you have a fresh coconut, shave insides, pour water over shavings and squeeze out the juices. If not, use canned or bottled coconut milk.
Add small diced carrots and or green pepper
Add salt
Add peas and or meat (precook meat slightly)
Stir and cover some more until the meat is cooked through
Local Spinach (can be cale or any green leaf veggie)
Chop leaves
Brown thinly cooked onions
Add fresh and chopped tomatoes (optional)
After a few minutes stir in the tomatoes with greens
Should be ready when greens have reduced and look cooked through
Cabbage and carrots stir-fry
Heat oil in pan
Brown thinly cooked onions
Add chopped tomatoes
Keep stirring and add salt
Add thinly sliced cabbage and stir
Cover and let cook and stir again to make sure it doesn’t burn or stick
Check flavor and add salt if necessary
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Friday June 13th: Learning how to make Batik fabric
A few of the youth living at the centre know how to make batik prints. Maria and Alexi have followed a course, and I am not sure how Aurelia learnt to make Batik but she is the most knowledgeable. They sell them to generate income for the centre and I previously bought one, which I got a vest and bag made with. It’s really beautiful and in some of my favorite colors: pink and grey.
I find out they have run out of supplies. And I am also really interested in learning about this ancient and traditional African technique of making prints.
With some of the money donated (thank you Dolores), Maria, Aurelia and myself went to get Batik supplies. We walked quite a long way to where Maria and Alex used to study with a Batik teacher. She sold us dyes, wax and caustic sodas and we set off back to Amani. Then the teacher walked us to where we should get fabric at a wholesale price and we bought 30 meters.
The rest of the day Maria and Alex showed me how to do different tie-dye effects using pleating techniques. Then we designed some batik using wax. The wax is used onto the fabric almost like paint except it’s wax and it dries within a few seconds. You can paint different shapes, letters with the melted wax. Afterwards, you dip your fabric in dye and where the wax is, the dye does not take.
Some of our designs didn’t take because the caustic soda we bought was not working so it was trial and error but over all it was a learning experience for me. One of the batiks came out looking beautiful. Maria spent a lot of time making the pleats perfect. Once the fabric was pleated into a tight bunch, she placed it into a bucket of hot water with dye and caustic soda. After it had sit in the solution for about 5 minutes, she undid the pleats and the tie-dye design appeared. It was definitely the highlight of the day.
I find out they have run out of supplies. And I am also really interested in learning about this ancient and traditional African technique of making prints.
With some of the money donated (thank you Dolores), Maria, Aurelia and myself went to get Batik supplies. We walked quite a long way to where Maria and Alex used to study with a Batik teacher. She sold us dyes, wax and caustic sodas and we set off back to Amani. Then the teacher walked us to where we should get fabric at a wholesale price and we bought 30 meters.
The rest of the day Maria and Alex showed me how to do different tie-dye effects using pleating techniques. Then we designed some batik using wax. The wax is used onto the fabric almost like paint except it’s wax and it dries within a few seconds. You can paint different shapes, letters with the melted wax. Afterwards, you dip your fabric in dye and where the wax is, the dye does not take.
Some of our designs didn’t take because the caustic soda we bought was not working so it was trial and error but over all it was a learning experience for me. One of the batiks came out looking beautiful. Maria spent a lot of time making the pleats perfect. Once the fabric was pleated into a tight bunch, she placed it into a bucket of hot water with dye and caustic soda. After it had sit in the solution for about 5 minutes, she undid the pleats and the tie-dye design appeared. It was definitely the highlight of the day.
Back at Amani
On Tuesday after I cam back from Zanzibar, I got involved with a project that has been on my mind. Before I left for Zanzibar, Mama Toni, an English missionary who has been living in Tanzania for 7 years and works with Amani, told me about a greeting card idea she really wanted to materialize with the help of someone artistic at Amani. There are currently cards the Amani centre makes that are nice. They are made from banana leaves and say Tanzania and have the map of Africa. They are nice but Mama Toni wanted something more appealing to the urban “Muzungus” (white people) at craft fairs, hotels and shops. I kept thinking about it, as this is something completely up my alley. So with a refreshed mind, one morning I spoke with Constancia, the daycare teacher who runs the arts and crafts, about an idea I had. Why not make cards from local African fabrics and add little elements like some of the banana leaves they already use, some beads or buttons? Make collage type cards that are handmade, that white people tend to like, something that doesn’t have Tanzania typed on it, but that uses African materials and is true to the local culture. And I have tons of beautiful paper donated to me by Elizabeth (thank you! I finally found a good use for them). So we played around with a few ideas for a day. It was a lot of fun. Everyone got involved, from Kapembe the driver (and jack of all trades), to the teacher and the youth. By the end of the day we had 10 beautiful cards made to show to Mama Toni. We narrowed it down to 5 with her. And now those are being duplicated. We have gathered scraps of leftover African fabrics, dryed banana leaves, buttons, beads and that’s it, anyone can get to work. Even the current group of high school students visiting from Scotland has been helping. The cards look beautiful. Each card will be sold for 3500 tsh and hopefully this project will bring money to the Amani centre.
The next day, I got my second bout of Malaria and got tested. I had 2 parasites again and just took a one day treatment, rested for the day and quickly got better.
The next day, I got my second bout of Malaria and got tested. I had 2 parasites again and just took a one day treatment, rested for the day and quickly got better.
Saturday May 30th to Sunday May 31st: Zanzibar and Stone town
It’s hard to describe the beauty of Zanzibar. All I can say is that when I look back at the experience, I feel like we landed on another planet, a small paradise or maybe as best described by a fellow volunteer who lives there, it’s like being one the TV show LOST.
I went with the rest of the volunteers from the Amani centre. None of them were coming back to Morogoro and this was the last leg of their Tanzania journey. I promised them they would see me party as we were going to go out with a bang and I had been quite tame so far.
For our means of transportation, we choose to go by air so we could enjoy the view of the coral reef. We left on a small propeller plane and it was funny to see everyone’s reaction. Scared of birds getting caught in the propellers and us crashing. Unfortunately or fortunately I almost never feel scared in the air.
As we arrive, we are greeted by a friendly and small airport with a gardened lawn with the words “Smile ur in Zanzibar” spelled out.
We take a small bus into Stone Town, the main city in Zanzibar. Not only I am excited to be in probably most certainly in one the most historically charged places in Africa, I am also curious to experience the black out. There hasn’t been any electricity for a few weeks now, and the prospects of it coming back on while we are visiting are very slim.
We arrive shortly before the sunset at Jambo hostel. We find out they have a generator and quickly get ready so we can walk around town. As we start our walk, I feel like I am in Venice meets Havana meets Palermo. The streets are so narrow, windy and intricate. Some passages exude a gutter smell, some wider streets are adorned with street vendors who sell spices, hard-boiled eggs, oil. Everywhere there are carved Arabic wooden doors and I decide that they will be a running theme in the photo journal of my trip to Stone town. Everywhere we go we run into locals who look like they are a mix of African and Indian. Their facial features are beautiful. The women all wear hijabs and walk by fleetingly, avoiding our gaze. I start to realize how much this place is different from the mainland. The buildings are run down but you can tell city once was a booming financial and cultural centre in Africa and Asia. The days of the spice and slave trade are still embedded in the atmosphere. I have never been to a middle eastern country, have never traveled to Northern Africa, but this could be what it’s like.
On our first night we go to Mercury’s lounge. It’s named after Freddie Mercury who is from Stone Town. We enjoy the local live music and dancing. It’s not Tarab, I don’t know what it’s called but it’s amazing and makes you want to be able to move every part of your hips the way Tanzanians do. Some of the volunteers order a Nargile. I try to smoke it and breathe in as much as I can but nothing comes out to everyone’s amusement. Finally, after the 5th attempt, I manage. We then go to a local Reggae club. I didn’t know this but there is a big rasta movement in Zanzibar. It feels really good to the dance. The men get higher as the night progresses. One asks me for my hand, I show him my “wedding ring” but he says we can lie, which is quite an amusing and resourceful comeback. In any case, the answer is no.
On the second day, Lauren, one of the volunteers and myself, decide to get up early and wander around the streets. We start our walk along the water where the small wooden fishing boats are anchored and make our way towards the fish market. The market atmosphere is great. People stare at us wondering what we think is so interesting about this market. Do we want fresh fish to grill? Not really. We are more here to soak in the local culture. We start to walk back towards the inside of the town and find ourselves caught in windy streets, enjoying having to find our way and stumbling across different shops.
After having quenched our first for shopping and indulged like the tourists that we are we head out to the Anglican Church to visit the old slave market site. The history of Zanzibar is closely tied into to the slave trade as the bigger the spice trade got, the higher the demand for slaves was. The history lesson we get from our guide is very interesting and sad. We learn that in 2 small underground rooms, which we visit, an average of 75 men and women waited for days to be whipped at ground level and then sold. In these cellars, the tide would come in and the humidity and dirt would cause disease to spread. The cramped quarters also caused many to dye of suffocation. He tells us about that the longer a slave survived, the more his or her value increased. The beating and torture was the selection process.
As the day progresses, the heat increases and we decide top at a local restaurant for lunch. My grilled fish is great even though it arrives one hour and a half after arriving. That’s the way it is in Tanzania. Everything is cooked fresh and you usually have to wait 35 minutes for your food, unless it’s something very simple like chips or an omelet. You just get used to it after a while.
After lunch, we decide to visit Prison Island, which is a short 15 minute boat ride away. It also includes snorkeling. We board a small fishing boat with our snorkeling and head out. As we move away from the island, we get to enjoy the view of Stone town. It’s such a beautiful place; it reminds me of Venice, Palermo and Havana combined.
As we get much closer to Prison Island, we stop the boat and jump in the water to snorkel. The reef is beautiful and the water is crystal clear. We don’t get to see any amazing fish but we swim around for about 45 minutes.
Then we park the boat on the small beach at the tip of Prisoner Island. The island was used as a quarantine centre when there used to be the plague on the mainland and the British Empire wanted to stop the disease from spreading to the island. The island itself is not very special. It has now been reconverted into a very high-end resort and used as a sanctuary for turtles. We get to pet and observe the turtles. They are absolutely huge. Some of them are over 200 years old. They are actually quite friendly and if you feed them and lift the food up high, they will pull their entire body up. They look so impressive and prehistoric that can understand the old sayings that represent turtles as being wise.
Before sunset we head back to Stone town. The boat ride back is beautiful and we criss cross with other fishing boats as the light starts to set. We then rush to the Africa House to enjoy the sunset. Being that we are near the equator, the sun sets extremely fast but we manage to see it and it is one of the most beautiful sites of the trip.
That night, we head out to Forodhani gardens for dinner with our flashlights. It’s just a few streets away but the streets are so windy and unsafe since the power shortage, that a man from the hostel ends up taking us around for the night. Forodhani gardens hosts a night market where you can buy street food like the Zanzibari pizza, fish skewers, sugar cane juice, or tea masala. I try all of them and we sit around with the locals enjoying the food. My favorite dish is the Zanzibar pizza. You pick the ingredients and it is cooked in front of you. The stall owner spreads a roll of dough thin and then mixes ingredients of your choice, which are then wrapped in a thin layer of flat dough. The whole thing is cooked in a pan and comes out delicious.
I love street markets and have never experienced one like this specifically at night. This was definitely a highlight to a day which was close to perfect.
I went with the rest of the volunteers from the Amani centre. None of them were coming back to Morogoro and this was the last leg of their Tanzania journey. I promised them they would see me party as we were going to go out with a bang and I had been quite tame so far.
For our means of transportation, we choose to go by air so we could enjoy the view of the coral reef. We left on a small propeller plane and it was funny to see everyone’s reaction. Scared of birds getting caught in the propellers and us crashing. Unfortunately or fortunately I almost never feel scared in the air.
As we arrive, we are greeted by a friendly and small airport with a gardened lawn with the words “Smile ur in Zanzibar” spelled out.
We take a small bus into Stone Town, the main city in Zanzibar. Not only I am excited to be in probably most certainly in one the most historically charged places in Africa, I am also curious to experience the black out. There hasn’t been any electricity for a few weeks now, and the prospects of it coming back on while we are visiting are very slim.
We arrive shortly before the sunset at Jambo hostel. We find out they have a generator and quickly get ready so we can walk around town. As we start our walk, I feel like I am in Venice meets Havana meets Palermo. The streets are so narrow, windy and intricate. Some passages exude a gutter smell, some wider streets are adorned with street vendors who sell spices, hard-boiled eggs, oil. Everywhere there are carved Arabic wooden doors and I decide that they will be a running theme in the photo journal of my trip to Stone town. Everywhere we go we run into locals who look like they are a mix of African and Indian. Their facial features are beautiful. The women all wear hijabs and walk by fleetingly, avoiding our gaze. I start to realize how much this place is different from the mainland. The buildings are run down but you can tell city once was a booming financial and cultural centre in Africa and Asia. The days of the spice and slave trade are still embedded in the atmosphere. I have never been to a middle eastern country, have never traveled to Northern Africa, but this could be what it’s like.
On our first night we go to Mercury’s lounge. It’s named after Freddie Mercury who is from Stone Town. We enjoy the local live music and dancing. It’s not Tarab, I don’t know what it’s called but it’s amazing and makes you want to be able to move every part of your hips the way Tanzanians do. Some of the volunteers order a Nargile. I try to smoke it and breathe in as much as I can but nothing comes out to everyone’s amusement. Finally, after the 5th attempt, I manage. We then go to a local Reggae club. I didn’t know this but there is a big rasta movement in Zanzibar. It feels really good to the dance. The men get higher as the night progresses. One asks me for my hand, I show him my “wedding ring” but he says we can lie, which is quite an amusing and resourceful comeback. In any case, the answer is no.
On the second day, Lauren, one of the volunteers and myself, decide to get up early and wander around the streets. We start our walk along the water where the small wooden fishing boats are anchored and make our way towards the fish market. The market atmosphere is great. People stare at us wondering what we think is so interesting about this market. Do we want fresh fish to grill? Not really. We are more here to soak in the local culture. We start to walk back towards the inside of the town and find ourselves caught in windy streets, enjoying having to find our way and stumbling across different shops.
After having quenched our first for shopping and indulged like the tourists that we are we head out to the Anglican Church to visit the old slave market site. The history of Zanzibar is closely tied into to the slave trade as the bigger the spice trade got, the higher the demand for slaves was. The history lesson we get from our guide is very interesting and sad. We learn that in 2 small underground rooms, which we visit, an average of 75 men and women waited for days to be whipped at ground level and then sold. In these cellars, the tide would come in and the humidity and dirt would cause disease to spread. The cramped quarters also caused many to dye of suffocation. He tells us about that the longer a slave survived, the more his or her value increased. The beating and torture was the selection process.
As the day progresses, the heat increases and we decide top at a local restaurant for lunch. My grilled fish is great even though it arrives one hour and a half after arriving. That’s the way it is in Tanzania. Everything is cooked fresh and you usually have to wait 35 minutes for your food, unless it’s something very simple like chips or an omelet. You just get used to it after a while.
After lunch, we decide to visit Prison Island, which is a short 15 minute boat ride away. It also includes snorkeling. We board a small fishing boat with our snorkeling and head out. As we move away from the island, we get to enjoy the view of Stone town. It’s such a beautiful place; it reminds me of Venice, Palermo and Havana combined.
As we get much closer to Prison Island, we stop the boat and jump in the water to snorkel. The reef is beautiful and the water is crystal clear. We don’t get to see any amazing fish but we swim around for about 45 minutes.
Then we park the boat on the small beach at the tip of Prisoner Island. The island was used as a quarantine centre when there used to be the plague on the mainland and the British Empire wanted to stop the disease from spreading to the island. The island itself is not very special. It has now been reconverted into a very high-end resort and used as a sanctuary for turtles. We get to pet and observe the turtles. They are absolutely huge. Some of them are over 200 years old. They are actually quite friendly and if you feed them and lift the food up high, they will pull their entire body up. They look so impressive and prehistoric that can understand the old sayings that represent turtles as being wise.
Before sunset we head back to Stone town. The boat ride back is beautiful and we criss cross with other fishing boats as the light starts to set. We then rush to the Africa House to enjoy the sunset. Being that we are near the equator, the sun sets extremely fast but we manage to see it and it is one of the most beautiful sites of the trip.
That night, we head out to Forodhani gardens for dinner with our flashlights. It’s just a few streets away but the streets are so windy and unsafe since the power shortage, that a man from the hostel ends up taking us around for the night. Forodhani gardens hosts a night market where you can buy street food like the Zanzibari pizza, fish skewers, sugar cane juice, or tea masala. I try all of them and we sit around with the locals enjoying the food. My favorite dish is the Zanzibar pizza. You pick the ingredients and it is cooked in front of you. The stall owner spreads a roll of dough thin and then mixes ingredients of your choice, which are then wrapped in a thin layer of flat dough. The whole thing is cooked in a pan and comes out delicious.
I love street markets and have never experienced one like this specifically at night. This was definitely a highlight to a day which was close to perfect.
Mama Bakhita bio part 2:
In 2002, we carried out a demonstration for our 10-year anniversary, which was a milestone. It was time to evaluate our achievement, the positive and the negative and to set new goals for the next 10 years.
But the year that followed, in 2003, I suffered two major personal blows. My niece Elena had been sick for a long time and was very close to my son Eric. They loved each other and even shared clothes as they had grown up together. They were both first born and shared a close bond. But for a long time, my son did not see his cousin at the Amani compound because she was too sick to visit. When she was taken to the village, he knew something was going on. On the night between the 9th and 10th of April, news broke that his cousin had died. On the evening of the 10th, the youth at the Amani compound were having a night vigil, singing solemn hymns in memory of Elena and he participated fully. Later on he felt sleepy so the youth escorted him to his room. The morning of the 11th, the caretaker went to his room. Being a young girl, she could not understand the condition Eric was in. I was not at the centre that night. After asking a nurse who was a neighbor to come examine him, she pronounced Eric had dyed 3 or 4 hours earlier. The whole family was in the village mourning the death of Elena and the afternoon before he passed away, was when they buried her. So at 12 noon, on the 11th, is when news broke at the village that Eric had dyed as well. This shocked the family members, the village community and for me, I was almost tong tied because he was the most healthy community member at Amani despite his disability. I think at the moment when he dyed, I was dreaming that 2 walls at the Amani centre had collapsed. So the following day at 12 when we received the message, I told the community I am sure when he was dying I had a dream of a wall falling apart and thinking how will I manage to repair this wall. To this day I cannot bare the thought that he dyed in my absence. The youth at the centre did not know how he felt, or how to really understand how to help him. After the news, Uncle Toni, his wife, some family members prepared the body and came back. The following morning of the 12th of April, he was buried. So this was a big sad event for the family loosing two members in 2 days. The cousin was buried on the afternoon of the 10th and that night, my son dyed and was buried the 12th.
I was so wounded, that the whole of 2003 I could not work to my full capacity. In May I traveled to the Netherlands and thought I might forget my sadness. Fortunately enough, the organization there knew what had happened to my son. So whenever I visited, there was a moment of short mourning. Even after coming back, I could not concentrate much on writing so I depended on Uncle Toni to write short messages that I felt were important. But even in that sadness, I vowed and prayed to get much courage to serve the disabled.
That year, many positive donations happened. It was the year when we received the pick up truck from Bean Feast in Scotland, which enabled Amani to visit many disabled especially in the rural areas where the roads are rough. Also the same year, the Japanese government approved a project proposal for the construction of a multi story building. One interesting event was that the day my son Eric passed away, the landline of our Parish priest which very often was disconnected, by some twist of fate, was reconnected and the first call he received was to inform him of the death of my son.
The first few years after my son passed, I could not talk of the event, but now I can speak about it as history. Now I see my second son as being the Amani project which I have dedicated my life to. That is why I don’t have a home of my own. My home is at the three centres. I enjoy going to our Mvomero centre and farm on the weekend. It’s a special place with the animals, garden and of course I love visiting the youth. You can spend time tending to the farm and do physical work which I much enjoy. When I go to Mikese, I enjoy the nature there and during farming season, to work physically with the youth.
I wish that what I am doing now will be taken over by someone who is dedicated, committed and will not use the centre as a loophole for his or her own interests. Someone who will make sure to keep contact with all the friends of Amani, the people I have been corresponding with for many years. I don’t expect that person to be like me but hope to have someone who holds the interest of the Amani centre close to his or her heart and is good with communication.
When I manage to handover the management of Amani, I would like to be an advisor for the centre’s staff. If they get stuck, I could help. This is how I see myself retiring as I still wish to remain in the community. I feel that during my time at Amani, I haven’t done as much fieldwork as my profession requires as I have focused on management and communication. I’d like to be able to stay a few days at Amani, Mvomero, Mikese and then visit the many outreach centres we have created.
My idea is that because in Tanzania there is a lack of training and trainers, there could be a group from abroad of professional that will create a partnership with Amani. We will do intensive training for the Tanzanian or the Amani staff or whoever. We could do this for all the 57 parishes in the Morogoro Diocese. This could have much impact within the Morogoro region and Tanzania. It would send out a message that at least there is a place in Tanzania where people with disabilities are cared for. This is my wish because if a number of Amani workers including the youth who live and work there get intensive training, they are the ones who will carry the sustainability of the project. The foundation is already there, but now it needs to be carried on.
To be continued...
But the year that followed, in 2003, I suffered two major personal blows. My niece Elena had been sick for a long time and was very close to my son Eric. They loved each other and even shared clothes as they had grown up together. They were both first born and shared a close bond. But for a long time, my son did not see his cousin at the Amani compound because she was too sick to visit. When she was taken to the village, he knew something was going on. On the night between the 9th and 10th of April, news broke that his cousin had died. On the evening of the 10th, the youth at the Amani compound were having a night vigil, singing solemn hymns in memory of Elena and he participated fully. Later on he felt sleepy so the youth escorted him to his room. The morning of the 11th, the caretaker went to his room. Being a young girl, she could not understand the condition Eric was in. I was not at the centre that night. After asking a nurse who was a neighbor to come examine him, she pronounced Eric had dyed 3 or 4 hours earlier. The whole family was in the village mourning the death of Elena and the afternoon before he passed away, was when they buried her. So at 12 noon, on the 11th, is when news broke at the village that Eric had dyed as well. This shocked the family members, the village community and for me, I was almost tong tied because he was the most healthy community member at Amani despite his disability. I think at the moment when he dyed, I was dreaming that 2 walls at the Amani centre had collapsed. So the following day at 12 when we received the message, I told the community I am sure when he was dying I had a dream of a wall falling apart and thinking how will I manage to repair this wall. To this day I cannot bare the thought that he dyed in my absence. The youth at the centre did not know how he felt, or how to really understand how to help him. After the news, Uncle Toni, his wife, some family members prepared the body and came back. The following morning of the 12th of April, he was buried. So this was a big sad event for the family loosing two members in 2 days. The cousin was buried on the afternoon of the 10th and that night, my son dyed and was buried the 12th.
I was so wounded, that the whole of 2003 I could not work to my full capacity. In May I traveled to the Netherlands and thought I might forget my sadness. Fortunately enough, the organization there knew what had happened to my son. So whenever I visited, there was a moment of short mourning. Even after coming back, I could not concentrate much on writing so I depended on Uncle Toni to write short messages that I felt were important. But even in that sadness, I vowed and prayed to get much courage to serve the disabled.
That year, many positive donations happened. It was the year when we received the pick up truck from Bean Feast in Scotland, which enabled Amani to visit many disabled especially in the rural areas where the roads are rough. Also the same year, the Japanese government approved a project proposal for the construction of a multi story building. One interesting event was that the day my son Eric passed away, the landline of our Parish priest which very often was disconnected, by some twist of fate, was reconnected and the first call he received was to inform him of the death of my son.
The first few years after my son passed, I could not talk of the event, but now I can speak about it as history. Now I see my second son as being the Amani project which I have dedicated my life to. That is why I don’t have a home of my own. My home is at the three centres. I enjoy going to our Mvomero centre and farm on the weekend. It’s a special place with the animals, garden and of course I love visiting the youth. You can spend time tending to the farm and do physical work which I much enjoy. When I go to Mikese, I enjoy the nature there and during farming season, to work physically with the youth.
I wish that what I am doing now will be taken over by someone who is dedicated, committed and will not use the centre as a loophole for his or her own interests. Someone who will make sure to keep contact with all the friends of Amani, the people I have been corresponding with for many years. I don’t expect that person to be like me but hope to have someone who holds the interest of the Amani centre close to his or her heart and is good with communication.
When I manage to handover the management of Amani, I would like to be an advisor for the centre’s staff. If they get stuck, I could help. This is how I see myself retiring as I still wish to remain in the community. I feel that during my time at Amani, I haven’t done as much fieldwork as my profession requires as I have focused on management and communication. I’d like to be able to stay a few days at Amani, Mvomero, Mikese and then visit the many outreach centres we have created.
My idea is that because in Tanzania there is a lack of training and trainers, there could be a group from abroad of professional that will create a partnership with Amani. We will do intensive training for the Tanzanian or the Amani staff or whoever. We could do this for all the 57 parishes in the Morogoro Diocese. This could have much impact within the Morogoro region and Tanzania. It would send out a message that at least there is a place in Tanzania where people with disabilities are cared for. This is my wish because if a number of Amani workers including the youth who live and work there get intensive training, they are the ones who will carry the sustainability of the project. The foundation is already there, but now it needs to be carried on.
To be continued...
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