Giving girls a second chance in education

By Michael Oriedo

It is not a clichÈ that education, however basic, makes a difference especially for women, says Joyce Oneko.

As a co-founder of a school and a scholarship fund for girls, she says the statement rings true everyday. More so, because her objective is to reach girls who would normally be locked out of education.

Through her organisation Mama na Dada wa Africa that was formed 13 years ago, girls who dropped out of school due to different reasons are getting a second shot at education.

" The pain and suffering of girls downed on me during a trip to my rural home in Kunya, Nyanza," she says

Women at a past workshop in Molo where the organisation also operates from. Photos: Courtesy

She was looking forward to a good vacation. However, an encounter with a dishevelled girl with a baby strapped on her back changed her mission and the course of her life.

"She was about 14-years-old," recounts Oneko, the executive director of the organisation.

"She informed me the baby was hers and she had dropped out of school after getting pregnant," she says.

Oneko spent her holiday visiting several homes in the area to find out the plight of girls.

"I discovered many of them were either pregnant or looking after babies. Some had also been married off at an early age," she says.

She researched on other problems facing women and girls in the area.

"Girls lacked self-esteem and were not enthusiastic about education since they believed their future was in marriage. HIV/Aids was prevalent in the community and many of them were looking after their sick parents as well as younger siblings," says Oneko.

Armed with the findings, she co-founded Mama na Dada Africa, a community organisation that strives to empower girls and women through education.

"We devised intervention programmes for various problems," says the 56-year-old.

The organisation began to educate girls and women about their rights.

"We talked to them about their rights in the society, for instance, the right to education and inheritance of property," she says.

However, when women began to demand for fairness, some men did not take it kindly. They accused Oneko of inciting women.

"A problem arose when a girl challenged her grandmother asking her to allow her to attend school.

Out of the village

"They said girls were becoming big-headed and almost threw us out of the village,’ she says.

However, Oneko says she talked with elders and resolved the issue. Having gained acceptance, the organisation started teaching girls and women about sexuality and reproductive health.

Most of the talks were mainly on HIV/Aids. Then, she reminisces, fishermen operating around Lake Victoria were using money to lure women, especially young girls, into sex.

"Girls would fall for them because they had money. But after impregnating them, the men would move to other areas," she says.

Through a sponsor, the organisation built a centre near the lake where villagers, both men and women, would congregate to discuss sex.

"We would meet to share knowledge on safer sex methods. HIV/Aids had affected many families but people still shunned preventive methods such as condom use. They believed people died of witchcraft," says Oneko.

Whereas the initiative helped to keep the uninfected safe, Oneko says they realised the infected were being left out.

The organisation mobilised a team of volunteer health workers who would give home-based care to Aids patients.

"Every day, health workers would visit patients at their homes to give them food, drugs and counselling," she says.

This turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Girls who had dropped out of school to take care of their sick parents or orphaned siblings returned to school.

"Mostly it is women who suffer most when problems arise in a family. While boys would continue with their education, girls would quit school to look after their sick parents and younger siblings," notes Oneko.

Many resumed their education, she says, but did not necessarily stay in school.

The schools were far. Girls had to walk for about 10 kilometres to reach the nearest secondary school.

Starting point

In light of this problem she mobilised the community and with the help of the district education office, constructed a school in the village in 2002.

"We started with one classroom which had eight students, two girls and six boys," she says.

The community would contribute money and other items at the end of the year to build a classroom. The school was named Ramogi Achieng’ Oneko after the freedom fighter.

"Over the years, the number of girls at the school has increased. But we still urge many more to enrol," she says.

As we talk about the school, Joyce receives a call from one of the girls at the institution informing her that she has completed her Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education exams.

She breaks into a smile and says: "My wish is to see every girl especially in rural areas complete their secondary education."

She has brought together US and local friends to start a scholarship fund that supports girls in various secondary schools.

Named the Marlene Assell Girls Scholarship Programme, the fund supports 15 to 20 girls every year through their secondary education.

"We select average female students who have a desire to learn. We use this criterion because most of those who drop out of school for lack of fees are such students."

Besides, many scholarship programmes target bright students.

The fund started in 2005 and has benefited about 100 girls.

"It is only through education that we can empower our women especially those in rural areas. They will know how to fend for themselves and tell when their rights are being trampled upon," she says.

From Kunya village, the organisation has spread its activities to other parts of the country. The institution is currently working with women’s groups in rural villages across the country such Makueni, Mbita, Molo and Rarieda.

Empowering women

This way, she says, voters can hold national leaders accountable.

Born in 1953, Joyce grew up at a time when women had few rights. "A woman was there to be seen and take care of her husband and family," she says.

After finishing Standard Seven, she joined Moi Nairobi Girls’ High School (then Nairobi Girls’) for her O-Levels before going to Kahuhia Girls’ High School in Murang’a for her A-Levels.

Upon completion in 1972, she took a path that many today would find unappealing. Despite passing very well, she took a break from education and married Lwande Oneko, son of freedom fighter Ramogi Achieng Oneko.

"I wanted to have a family and take care of my children before furthering my studies," she says.

She resumed her education 21 years later, when her four children were grown ups, at the University of Wolverhampton in Britain.

"While I was raising my children, I also worked as an apprentice in a law firm. I had taken interest in law and had been admitted at the university to do the course," she says.

While not working with girls and women at Mama na Dada, Oneko practises law.

She has four children and a three grandchildren.