The Weight of the World

(This blog was posted on ONE.org today in celebration of World Food Day)

This year my husband and I put our jobs on hold, left the iPhones at home, homeschooled our four daughters and spent time looking out the window of planes, cars, trains, and rickshaws—learning life lessons that can’t be taught in a classroom. We wanted to be together as a family, banded together, ready to conquer the world. For seven months we meandered throughout South America, Antarctica, Australia, Asia, and Africa.

I was eager to show my family the continent of Africa, the last stop on our adventure, and where I trace my ancestral roots on my father’s side. It’s a place where I spend much of my time working for an organization I founded that makes lifesaving food for malnourished children. I had to find the words to explain to my girls why, in this world we live in, much of the caretaking responsibilities fall on women and girls. They are the farmers, the cooks, the water collectors, and the glue that holds families, and societies, together.

We stumbled upon a village on the border of Angola and Namibia that brought this lesson to life. I took this photograph of one of the women from the village. She’s a mother, a laborer, a provider, a fighter, a survivor, who must do everything in her power to provide for the little one on her back. The weight of the world rests on her shoulders, as she takes a moment to rest her head on her hoe in a field, exhausted and most likely doubting her child’s security in the world. Will the rains come, will this land produce the food I need to nourish my child, and will I have the strength to overcome so many obstacles ahead?

In this remote part of Angola, men were not part of a traditional family, as we have come to expect in our part of the world. How could I easily explain to my daughters that it’s quite common for the men to come through a village with their herds, sleep with the women and then, the following day, move on, never knowing that a child was the result of their actions?

Later that evening around dinner time, we watched in awe as these overburdened women turned into a network of sisters, mothers, grandmothers, daughters, all working together to prepare the meal, care for the children, and collect the firewood and water they needed to live. They laughed, they sang, they danced, they gathered, all the while working side by side to achieve a common goal of survival, as equals.

On this World Food Day, I think about the possibility of another food crisis looming as the next El Nino weather pattern threatens widespread drought and flooding across much of southern and eastern Africa. I am thinking about the threat of malnutrition for millions more children. I worry about those most vulnerable – the women and their children. What safety nets are out there to catch them if they falter, if the rains don’t deliver, if they cannot feed their family.

Over the last nine years, I have chosen to focus on one part of the problem – that of malnutrition. The first 1,000 days of life from conception to a child’s second birthday are the most critical time to intervene. Better nutrition can have a life changing impact on a child’s future and help begin the rise out of poverty. It is my hope that our factory in Providence can do our part to support women through food and nutrition and churn out enough lifesaving food to help make their daily struggle just a little bit easier.

Women are the backbone of this world. My daughters and I saw this clearly in our travels. We witnessed how African women—carrying heavy loads on their heads, walking miles to market with babies on their backs—would do anything in their power to protect their children’s lives and futures. From our corner of the world, we are doing our best to help them carry that weight.