When Lydia Wilbard was just ten years old, her mother died. From that moment on, Lydia dreamed of becoming a nurse so that she could help to cure people when they got sick. But growing up in a small village in rural Tanzania, her ambitions seemed like an impossible dream.

Lydia was sent to live with her aunt who had seven sons of her own. Conditions were tough and Lydia had little time to go to school because she was too busy cooking, cleaning, collecting wood and washing clothes for her male cousins while they went off to school. (more…)

I was born in Sadza – a rural district in Zimbabwe. My parents were subsistence farmers with little or no surplus to sell for basics, let alone school fees. During my first years at primary school, no school fees were required – just any dress, some food and a little encouragement. Life took a bitter turn, though, when the government introduced fees. I remember my parents getting so frustrated when in the same year the rains did not come. Rains were our source of livelihood. (more…)

In the journey of my life I’ve encountered many hurdles that have left me stronger. They were actually steps up the ladder. I have managed to be where I am now mainly because of my education. To me education is a weapon against poverty. I grew up in a society where it is said that the only course a woman would pass is marriage. I come from a family where there is no one qualified for any professional job, where there is no one who has been to university. I am actually their pioneer. And in a community where there is no lawyer, I have introduced diversity. Parents, not only mine, have come to appreciate that it is important to educate a girl-child. (more…)

“I am more than I thought I was. Lucia Punungwe”When education was introduced in Zimbabwe, mostly it was boys who were sent to school and not girls. The parents were so poor they could not afford to send both. It was believed that educating boys was an investment because a man would marry, bring his wife home and continue to support his parents. But my parents struggled to send us all, boys and girls, to school. (more…)

My toughest time was when I became a widow. It was 1998 and I was eighteen. My husband left me with a two-week-old baby. My husband was in the military.

He was taken to the military hospital. They released him the very same day and he came back home alone. The following day he passed away. The military provided me with transport to bring his body to our home area of Murewa.

To lose the one you love most is not easy. I used to cry. People looked down on me – I was now just a single parent. My mother was not working. My father was not working. (more…)

In 1993, when my father lost his job at the mine where he worked, that was when the lot fell heavily on my family. It was then that my family had to move to the rural areas. I was in Form One and my father insisted that he had no money to pay for those of us who were in secondary to continue in school. My sister and I decided we needed to get employment to help the family but with only my primary school completion, I had no choice of a job. So I was employed as a maid. (more…)