A Special Sister

I've never had a sister. Not a real one anyways. I have friends who certainly feel like sisters to me, I have more than 100 (actually more like thousands) of Pi Phi sisters, and I now have two sister-in-laws. But no real sister of my very own. Growing up, and to this day still, I am envious of all my friends who have sisters - the unique relationships they share, the fun things they do together. It's quite different when you have a brother.

When I was in Tanzania I met a young girl, about 14 years old, who lived next door to the homebase. Her family ran a small bar/club next to their home. It was always filled with volunteers, sipping their Kili beers or their Orange Fantas. Music was always on and the locals were always hanging out front, creating beautiful artwork. We couldn't come or go from our homebase without passing by SAID'S Club. Said (Pronounced Sigh-eed) is the father to the young girl, Kuruthumu, or Kay as she liked to be called. There was something about Kay that separated her from the other young Tanzanian girls. She was so ambitious, driven, and courageous. She had motherly tendencies and was a very obedient daughter. She was incredibly intelligent and loved to learn. She was also quite stylish. Kay loved American fashion. One day she showed up outside wearing a nearly identical denim jacket to the one I wore on all the cool nights we spent at SAID'S. She told me she wanted to be like me. She wanted to live in America, go to college, and volunteer to help other people. She said she wished she was my sister. She told me how she loved her brother but that she had always wished for a sister. Me too, I told her. It came as no surprise when she said, "Then we will be sisters". Just like that. Since that day almost four years ago, we've kept in contact through emails and letters. While the letters stopped coming nearly two years ago, the emails continued. It had been nearly 5 months since I last heard from Kay so I sent her an email a few days ago. This is what I found in my inbox this morning:

Sister! I miss you. Life is still difficult here. CCS (the homebase we stayed at) is still closed no volunteers come to help us make money to live. I dont think it will be open again. Life is so difficult that I am still in school because mum cant pay the fees so some day I have to sit home and wait for enough money to pay fees. I read books and study language and math at home. I hope to finish next February but there will be no money for university yet. I remember what you always say about praying to God and I ask him to look over my family and give what we need to keep living. I know someday I go to university and everyone will see that I am smart girl like you. And I am praying for your baby that you will bring from Africa someday. Mum and Said are greeting you too and they say they are praying for you too so that all of america knows about africa and the difficult life here. You have a good idea to adopt African child that will make you to remember ME always. I tell mum I will do the same with the orphans in tanzania when I finish university because I have to take care of my own people. I MISS YOU MUCH. LOVE YOU SISTER!

These emails are always difficult for me to read. I know how much poverty the people of Tanzania are facing. I know how much the children want to go to school but cannot afford to pay the fees or buy the uniform. I find myself feeling guilty for being American, for spending my money frivolously, and for not doing more to help. But as difficult as the email is to read, it also gives me happiness and hope. Kay is a young girl with huge dreams and the determination to make those dreams a reality. She is a young girl growing in her Christian faith. She is a young girl with a heart for orphans and adoption. She is truly a remarkable young woman and I am more than privileged to call her my SISTER. I cherish her emails that remind of this.

Me and Kay in our matching denim jackets (pardon how terrible I look, it's difficult to look good while in Africa)