During the last couple of days, those of us joining thousands of others in London’s busy transport system have been able to pick up a free evening newspaper with a front page campaign to boost literacy levels for children in London’s schools. Apparently, children are not able to read basic sentences and ‘literacy’ is at its lowest…
Hope and fear on my latest trip as I witness parents taking an active part in their children’s education, but also see how a clinic is struggling to cope with an cholera outbreak.
I see the direct improvement made to people’s lives in Mozambique by the money raised by our supporters in events such as marathons, during a visit to a health clinic, school and communiity centre.
The train journey from Delhi to Jaipur was quite different from British rail – it left on time, tea and biscuits were served followed by breakfast.
We all lugged our cases up and down stairs refusing help from the porters and then discovered that for 40 ruppees (60p) we could have had porter service – such Scottish thrift.
As the lottery that is my job with the Emergency Section in Save the Children drew its numbers in July, it turned out it was a Roll Over week and I had the bonus ball. I was being sent to Mongolia for three months.
In the midst of such terrible atrocities, my Uzbek and Kyrgyz colleagues have showed an amazing strength and resilience. They have been working together to help as many children and families as possible.
Today was the first official day back to work in Osh, Kyrgyzstan. Traffic was light, but heavy by recent standards. The purple public buses carried commuters instead of soldiers around the city. Motorists even stopped at traffic signals, and checkpoints allowed most cars to pass unquestioned. Some barricades around Nariman, a town in Osh Province, have been removed, opening more of the city to traffic.
We’ve learnt from the UN education co-ordination meeting that we’ve accidently given out evil spirits in our education kits. The programme manager is confused— she didn’t order any evil spirits — and the logistician can’t find a record of them passing through the warehouse. But there they are, in the school kits, and a child has been hurt by one. Families are taking their school kits to be blessed by the priest and we’re going to each school to apologise.
Busy, busy days. Today, I’ve been discussing funding opportunities for projects in Goma, a city in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo, written to people in London about internal bulletins, magazines, publications, media visits and donor visits, called Kinshasa and Dakar and discussed communications strategies.
I am a very nosy person. What could be a more legitimate excuse for delving into the fascinating life, letters, unpublished novels, houses, bottom drawers, last will and testament… of someone who intrigues you, than writing their biography? Aware of the potentially invasive nature of the role, I once described it as psycho-stalking, and was duly ticked off by a more established writer.
