Coins of golden sunlight dance on the pale blue waters of Lake Malawi as palm fringe shadows reach over the sandy beach, sheltering the children from the intense heat.
The idyllic bay makes it hard to focus on the fact that we are on a fact-finding mission at the behest of a school that is locked in a constant struggle to shield its students from the debilitating forces of poverty and ignorance in Namaso Bay.

Hundreds of those students had gathered on the beach for a feast that the Patel family had announced to the village a few days ago. The children chattered excitedly as they watched massive pot of their favorite meal being carried out of the kitchen. A swarm of children rushed forward, while the teachers and cook admonished the eager crowd, struggling to maintain order.

Jayashree Patel dissipated the tension by popping a Bollywood album into the music system. Within moments there are dozens of children dancing around her, the hunger in their stomach forgotten for moment, their empty bowls cast aside in favour of moving boisterously to Hindi tunes. She spoke to them in fluent Chechwa, encouraging them to try out their moves, as the food made its way safely to a serving table.
It was her husband who first established the school when we saw groups of children huddled in the shade of a massive baobab tree, day after day, whatever the weather, blistering sun or pouring rain, trying to nourish their hungry minds under the guidance of a single teacher. Now her brother Raj Patel has joined forces with committed professionals like board director Yo Yoshida to embark on what they call “a passionate gesture of goodwill” to continue to support the residents Namaso Bay by bringing back experts in education and income generating enterprises to see how the school can provide the highest grade of opportunity to the community in the most “non-instrusive way.”

Back on the lawn in front of the Patel family lake house, the aroma of beans and seema as the lids come off gargantuan pots, has the children rushing to take their place in line. We are here to meet the students of the Namaso Bay school, but the meeting will have to wait till intestines agitating for their first and only meal of the day are satiated.
The next hour passes in the blur of hundreds of feet shuffling over the grass as a tangle of hands pushes their plates and bowls forward. Anxious eyes follow our hands as we dip into the vats for food, and smiles greet the generous portions we are ladling  out.

Not surprising given that food inflation was running at 8.1 percent, according to Malawi’s National Statistical Office (NSO), making it impossible for most Malawians to consume anything other than what they can grow or catch. The NSO attributed food inflation to a scarcity of maize, the staple food but independent industry reports have pointed out that Malawian maize exports (following a confused estimate of surplus crops) may have exacerbated the shortage. United Nations news wire IRIN reported in January that the country had fallen short of producing the two million tonnes of maize required, annually, to feed its population of over 12 million.
It is no wonder that the children cannot get their minds or eyes off the food on their plates to talk about what they like about going to school. Education is a luxury in a country where starvation determines mortality rates, and prosperity is a tin roof.
“That’s right. A tin roof, it’s not pretty but we are proud to have one,” says a Malawian who has taken on the task of driving us the two hours it takes from Lilongwe to Namaso Bay. “You might like to see the dried grass on top of our homes, but dried grass means animals can live between layers and there is dampness and animal droppings so its unhygienic. When you get a tin roof, that is when your family has made it good.”
Under the Baobab Tree has injected hope into a community that feels like it has been forgotten by the outside world. The NGO built a water tank on top of a boulder to ensure the efficient distribution of water. But it is hard for the people living in abject poverty to widen their horizons and consider the world of opportunity that lies beyond their village in an area that remains unconnected by any kind of public transport.

It is difficult for them to imagine the merits of an education. It is much easier for them to see why one would go fishing. At a parent- teacher meeting, a parent explains the challenge: “When you catch. a fish you feed the family, but everyone asks how will this school help?” How sitting in a classroom, scrawling on notebooks and discussing vague concepts with a teacher will help put food on the table is harder to imagine. A group of parents were eager to make the point that they have noticed an improvement in the children who go to Under the Baobab Tree: “They are polite now and more willing to work hard.”

“Simple things come in the way of helping the children see the future,” said Richard, who was then head teacher at Under the Baobab Tree school, “We are all male teachers so for a female role model I contacted a female police officer I know who promised to come and talk to the class, but she couldn’t because there was no one to bring her, no car, no bus, nothing.”
But the top scorers of the Namaso Bay school know exactly why they are studying. They sit on the grass in the Patel family lawn, excitedly telling us what they want to be when they grow up. All the girls seem to think “nurse” was a good career to aspire to. One drew gasps when she said the word pilot. When we ventured the word “teacher,” we drew confused looks, and the girls responded that this was a man’s job. Richard, the head teacher, said: “We are trying to find female role models but it is hard. They repeat the lessons they see.”
Jayashree plays an important role here, rallying the older girls around her, talking to the youth about the dangers of multiple partners, emphasizing the merits of an education.
“There is a lot of work to be done in terms of education and awareness, unfortunately the girls think that they way to keep a man is to have his baby, so they end up with multiple partners and a lot of children that the grandparents are then expected to care for,” she explains.
From Lilongwe to Namaso Bay to Likomo island, we hear the same narrative: Aids and starvation are an everyday reality in the rural areas of Malawi: for every smiling sibling who stared into our camera lens there seems to have been one that had to be buried.

“There is no concept of crop rotation or food storage or planning. You work in the field, you eat what you harvest, or catch in the lake, and you live today,” sighs Jayashree. “There are three months of certain starvation in many of the surrounding villages.”

The Patel family coordinated with the World Food Program who now provides a breakfast meal of porridge to the children, allowing them to sit through a few hours of class. They held a parent teacher meeting where they offered to give the people cloth if they could organize themselves into groups to stitch the uniforms.
“The idea is to ensure that we are not handing them gifts or charity. We want them to take ownership of the school, and come together to participate in bettering their children’s lives,” explains Raj, who is keen to introduce beading or embroidery workshops as an income generating enterprise for the community.
The sky implodes into a kaliedescopic canvas of reds as a bunch of young boys push a canoe they have spent weeks culling from a tree trunk, into the water. As they balanced their weight to avoid toppling over, the boys’ laughter was the only sound that broke through the pervasive sense of serenity.
A few donors sat watching the idyllic scene unfold as they discussed the development of a volunteer program.
“It’s a lucky volunteer who will wake and sleep to this incredible view of the lake,” commented a donor, as we watched the sun relinquish the sky, with a final, dramatic flourish.
Check out opportunities at Under The Boabab Tree’s volunteer program by visiting their website at:
http://www.underthebaobabtree.org/volunteer.html