In July, 2008, I, Princess Rachella, Intrepid African American Girl International Journalism Consultant, pulled up stakes once again and headed to Nairobi, Kenya. Through my various adventures, I've concluded that if I get any MORE explosively fabulous in these prequel years to "THE BIG 5-0," I will have to register myself with the Pentagon as a thermonuclear incendiary device.
In July, 2008, I, Princess Rachella, Intrepid African American Girl International Journalism Consultant, pulled up stakes once again and headed to Nairobi, Kenya. Through my various adventures, I've concluded that if I get any MORE explosively fabulous in these prequel years to "THE BIG 5-0," I will have to register myself with the Pentagon as a thermonuclear incendiary device.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Live the Questions Now
I just had a knock on my door, and one of the guards, Oyet Francis (folks over here say their last name first) pointed to a tall, slim girl who was standing shyly off to the side. At first I didn’t recognize her, but then it hit me….it was Cissy, one of the girls I’m helping through boarding school next year.
Cissy shook my hand and curtsied, and said she had a card for me. At first I thought it might be a simple Christmas greetiing she’d made herself, and I braced for the floodgates to crumble. But then Cissy unfolded the wrinkled newspaper she was holding and handed me two photocopied pages from Mary Immaculate Primary 7 school. It was the report of her final grades.
Cissy ranked 8th out of a class of 267 girls in Primary 5!! She was graded “Very Good” in English and Maths, and “Good” in Science and Social Studies. I was so thrilled to see how well she’d done, especially knowing how hard her life has been. I hugged her and thanked her for bringing me her marks. And I also couldn’t resist telling her that now that she’d be living at school next year, she’d have more time to concentrate on her studies. I told her I wanted to see those “Very Good” marks replaced with “Excellents”.
Yeah, yeah, I know it’s wrong to put academic pressure on kids, but since I’ve decided I’m never having any of my own, I don’t have to worry about warping them. And I have to say, I would choose this holiday experience over stuffing my face with turkey and sweet potato pie, or lounging on a beach somewhere.
Of course, I’m already booked on a flight to Rio in mid-February, so I guess I can afford to be so philanthropic. And that’s another thing….what the heck am I feeling sorry for myself about???? I’m pretty darned blessed.
But check with me on Christmas Eve. I may wind up doing some blogging while drunk
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