Her name is Edith. Patiently she sits in the hot African sun waiting to pay her grandkids school fees. Unlike America, kids in Swaziland are required to pay for school and the cost is hefty. For primary school it costs 300USD per year and 1,000 USD for secondary school. For families that have a hard enough time putting food on the table, these fees make it nearly impossible for kids to complete high school.
It is the first day of school in Swaziland and Edith is determined to send her grandkids to school, so she sits, with an envelope of money waiting to pay.
Sitting down next to her she smiles and giggles. “I have 12 kids in all, two are dead though, AIDS, those are my grandkids,” she says as she gestures towards three kids playing in the dirt, their new school uniforms already dirty.
I ask how many grandkids in all and she laughs, “Oohh so many, my oldest daughter has 8, one dead though, second oldest has 10, two dead, third has 4, fourth has 7….” It continues on like this. We ended up counting 48 grandkids total, four of which she is raising on her own.
She tells me she is 71 and is still married to Joseph who works in the fields each day. “We have been married a VERY long time but ohhh my Joseph,” she says with love in her eyes.
“You know I don’t like Swaziland, no rain, things don’t grow without rain, we just have a small field but it is enough, God always provides enough.” With each of her words she smiles broadly, her eyes sparkling and wise. Pausing, she stares at me and exclaims, “you need a SiSwati name, NoBuhle, it means beautiful.”
We sat there for a while, in silence, simply watching her grandkids play. Finally she stood up, gave me a hug and after paying the school fees, disappeared down the dirt road.
It is crazy meeting people around the world because you never know if you will see them again. Here this woman who had delicately touched my life, simply disappears down the road; the road towards her Joseph, her small home and her precious grandkids.
