My first trips to Tanzania came with very clear rules: ice in a drink was suspicious, and I brushed my teeth exclusively with bottled water. But in Mbogoi, those European certainties dissolve faster than you can pull out a bottle of sanitiser.
Today’s Special: Rain and an Old Roof
When the longed-for rain finally came, Mbogoi erupted in pure, unfiltered euphoria. Everyone ran outside clutching buckets and basins. What we, in our part of the world, would consider dirty roof water fit for little more than watering the garden, the Maasai respectfully call “fresh water.”
I will admit that, although the water splashing into the basins looked perfectly clear, I could not quite muster the courage to drink it straight from beneath a dusty roof. I stood there with the uneasy feeling that my hygiene standards were little more than a running joke in this place, while the locals happily enjoyed this gift from the heavens. Seeing that kind of genuine joy teaches you humility far more effectively than any motivational course ever could.
Mathematics for the “Happily Born”
My desire to bring water here that does not depend on the mood of the clouds ran into hard reality. Drilling a well in this terrain costs thousands of euros. For someone in Mbogoi earning a euro or two a day, that is a sum from the realm of science fiction - rather like me buying a private jet.
In our world of the “happily born,” water is just an invisible backdrop to the morning tea. Here in Mbogoi, every sip is either a gift from the heavens or the result of a “million-dollar” project. Water here is not a given, but a goal you walk towards slowly.
From the Gutter to the First Sip
Since we are still gathering the strength for a deep well for the whole community, we decided on a pragmatic first step. The local school needed a new roof - the rotten beams were being held together more by willpower than by nails.
Today, the new roof is finished. We fitted gutters, and the old concrete tanks right on the school grounds were repaired with joined forces. Those tanks had been leaking for years, but after the work of the local craftsmen, they are watertight again and ready for the dust of Mbogoi.
We may not have solved the thirst of the whole area, but the pupils at the school now have something to wash the dust from their throats with during the heat, without having to wonder whether their water is more wet or more muddy.
Sometimes the biggest changes begin with an ordinary gutter. Because in Mbogoi life teaches you one thing: even a few litres in a tank mean more than the grandest promises in the dust.
