ambitions

Friday’s last name is Ganizani, which translates literally to “please think.” It’s fitting. He looks like he might be about 10 years old, but he carries himself with the confidence of a bright college student. His hand moves when he talks, like he’s weighing something light in his palm, and travels up to stroke his chin while he searches for the right word. He speaks directly, holding my gaze.

“I want to go to America.”

This is probably the most common request Peace Corps Volunteers get from their host country nationals, and I believe the correct response is: “Me too, buddy, I can’t believe I ever left that sinner’s paradise!” Ahh, but I was still young and green, and so I took a minute and genuinely thought of how I could help this kid out.

“Maybe if you went to university?” I suggested. It seemed like it could work. How hard could it be?

Ludicrously hard, I found out!

But as luck would have it, I heard about the MasterCard Foundation Scholars Program: a $700 million, 10-year initiative to send 15,000 poor African students to an array of top-tier universities in North America, Europe, and Africa. It was exactly what I was looking for. Friday was too young to apply, but I helped six talented Form 3 and 4 students submit applications. And wouldn’t you know it, two of them got in!

“Well, that was easy!” I said, dusting off my hands.

Ha-ha, just kidding — it was an obscene amount of work. I helped put together more than 30 individual college applications, and then coordinated the passport/visa/travel process for the two students who were accepted. The whole process took 10 months. I remember 14-hour days, frantic bike rides to town to send time-sensitive emails, strategically flirting with immigration officials, agnostic prayers to the universe, and hours, HOURS of sobbing on the floor.

But I also have the memory of Freza’s face when he read the email from McGill that began, “We’re pleased to inform you…”

It might be the most precious moment in my life.