By: Sam Lorenzo

At 5:25 in the morning, I woke up to the feeling of my phone vibrating under my pillow. My supervisor, Isaac, was calling me to make sure I would be ready for our three-hour journey to the Volta Region. At about 6:05am, Kwame, the company driver, arrived outside my apartment and from there, we proceeded to pick up Isaac and my officemate, Bernice.

Our objective for the day was to check-in with one of our partnering communities. I was not fully briefed on what the on-site project was about, only that I would help film content for social media while Bernice interviewed people.

For our first stop, we arrived at the Peki Community Centre to meet one of the administrators, Auntie Tina. She spoke about the healthcare education program she helps facilitates with parents and adolescents in the neighborhood. The purpose of the organization is to teach young women how to maintain proper hygiene (especially during menstruation), how to avoid teenage pregnancy, tips to protect themselves from sexual abuse, healthcare resources they can utilize, and ways they can continue their education.

Young men have also been encouraged to come and learn how they can be advocates for women. It was inspiring to hear about all the work that has been taking place in their community and the evident benefits that have resulted, such as a significant decrease in teenage pregnancy. It was also disheartening to hear about the challenges they face – the main one being a lack of funding, which may cause the program to be terminated completely.

As we were leaving to go to our next location, I heard Isaac tell Auntie Tina that I would use everything I learned during this trip to help organize resources for them in the states. I looked at Isaac and asked what types of resources are needed at Peki. “Backpacks,” he said immediately. That seemed feasible to me, but then he continued. “Kids tend to skip school if they don’t have a backpack to put books and supplies in,” Isaac explained. His words sent a shock through my system as I was immediately made aware of my privilege as an American.

“Girls also skip school when they’re menstruating because they are not equipped with sanitary pads. Can you imagine? They miss a whole week of school every month because of their period,” Bernice added. I’m no stranger to life in developing countries since my parents are immigrants from one, but it does not make information like this any less upsetting. How could something so basic, such as a bag for books or menstruation supplies, be so scarce?

My feelings amplified when we arrived at our next location to speak to some of the young girls, parents, and educators of the program. When Bernice asked each of the girls why they decided to join the program, their main response was that they wanted to learn best hygiene practices for menstruation. All the girls we spoke to were in their late teens/early twenties and had been in the program for a couple of years, which brought me to the realization that they most likely spent several years without being thoroughly educated about menstruation or having an ample supply of period products.

Each girl also expressed their desire for the program to continue because it has been an invaluable asset for their entire community. Existential guilt began to sink in and humble me, making me cognizant of all the things I forget to appreciate. Since early childhood, I always loved going to school and learning new things. I cannot even begin to imagine having to regularly miss out because of (biological) things that are out of my control.

I have a few ideas in mind to help provide resources to this community, but if anyone out there reading this blog post has any suggestions or would like to contribute/collaborate, please let me know. Email: slorenzo@uoregon.edu