The Faces of Africa

It doesn't matter where I go, the look in their
eyes is the same...the children of the poor.

This particular girl caught my eye while she was
patiently waiting in line to receive donated
clothes. We were giving out the clothes in the
rural village of Wayawaya, near the town of
Katima, Namibia.

Her eyes tell the story...life is difficult.

She doesn't know why she is hungry;
She doesn't understand generational poverty;
She is a child...a child in poverty.

Her story breaks my heart.

This young boy was peering at us through a hole in a canvas tent that was used for an after school program for the kids in the township of Shayamoya, South Africa. An Optometrist that was walking with me noticed his lazy eye. We walked the boy to the Onesight eye clinic at Oprah's 7 Fountains Primary School. The doctors at the clinic gave him a pair of glasses matching his prescription and referred him to a local Opthamologist for a corrective surgery.

The boy didn't say a word the entire time, hanging onto his teen age cousin tightly.

No mother, no father. His expression didn't change. No smile. No emotion.

But he wore his new glasses proudly.

I watched this girl all day. I couldn't stop looking into her eyes. They seemed to express a deeper sadness than any other I had seen.

She watched everything from a distance. She seemed skeptical and withdrawn.

She rarely interacted with anyone including her own people. She didn't even play with the other kids in the village.

She was a loner.

I sold everything and moved to South Africa to help the underprivileged.

I am not a professional photographer but I do enjoy capturing people and their stories.

I document these stories and many more on my blog: socialCOMPASS.

My blog will allow me to share my experience and explore many of the topics surrounding change. I will share ideas and intelligent dialog as I move through the process from 'average joe' to social change agent.

This man waited all morning at our eye clinic. The members of the community were required to wait until the all of the students had been seen by the doctors.

After five hours of waiting the docs confirmed that he did indeed need glasses and the glasses that he was wearing were the best they could do.

Our clinics depend on donated eyeglasses and tend to favor the move common prescriptions. This man is actually lucky to have found glasses that fit his prescription in this remote township. Also, very lucky not to have cataracts or glaucoma.

He was engaging and I enjoyed watching him throughout the day.

Every now and again there is a person that is so passionate and so determined to make a difference that their passion causes them to move. They give every ounce of their life to make a difference; they give everything. If we are lucky we get to meet someone like this once in our lifetime.

Mama Peggy, as she is know throughout Mamelodi, gives all of herself everyday to the people of her community. She tirelessly educates, counsels and loves on those affected by HIV/AIDS in the township of Mamelodi.

She carries their pain and suffering in her eyes.

Her eyes tell a story of deep sadness.

Her eyes tell a story of great hope.

Her eyes tell a story of incredible faith.

Mama Peggy: interview on HIV/AIDS in Mamelodi

I walked right by this man with only one leg who was panhandling for money. I guess it doesn't really matter that he only has one leg. I walked right by him, ignoring that he even existed. He tried to get my attention to give his sales pitch, "Sir, can I have a minute of your time?" I walked onward. I walked on as if his problems didn't exist. Maybe its the constant 'sales pitch' that I have become desensitized to; constantly being approached for money. Maybe its me. I have prayed that I would never get used to the poverty and the struggling that surrounds me in Mamelodi. I fear that I am.

God never lets me off easy and today was no different.

My errand was an out and back, meaning that I had to walk past him again. It was when I approached him the second time that it hit me. I looked up and saw him, still standing there. Our eyes met awkwardly from about 50 feet, he quickly looked away. He knew I had just treated him as if he was invisible. An overwhelming feeling of shame hit me like a brick. I walked toward him. This time I stopped. He cut his 'pitch' to the bare minimum and got right to the point, "Can you spare anything?". I handed him 5 Rand; the equivalent of 75 cents. I wanted to hear his story, I wanted to give him the opportunity to share. I was too ashamed to ask. I asked him if I could take his picture. He didn't look into the camera. I was too ashamed to tell him that the picture was for me; to remind me. To remind me of how I ignored him and his problems. I handed him another 10 Rand. He smiled.

I learned from a one-legged man that I am the one who doesn't have a leg to stand on.

Smiles are hard to come by in the villages of Namibia. Life is hard. Everyday is a struggle. Poverty and hunger are real.

So when I saw this boy almost smile I had to capture it. We were in this village near Katima, Namibia operating a mobile medical clinic. The people appeared grateful but never smiled. The San tribe did sing a blessing on us as we packed up and drove away.

One of the most memorable days I have had in Africa.

The villages in Namibia are a hard place to live. Sand everywhere. The sun is intense. The wind is brutal, especially when is whips sand through the air sandblasting the skin. Years of rubbing eyes filled with particles of sand wears away the cornea leaving the surface of the eye looking like a divot from a golf swing.

There was little our mobile eye clinic could do for the elderly in village of Wayawaya. Too many years in the elements without sunglasses or eye care. Our best treatment was to administer eye drops to everyone giving them only short-term relief.

We concentrated on the kids hoping that educating them on the advantages of sunglasses and basic eye care we could prolong the inevitable damages for the elements. Sadly, in these conditions without access to ongoing eye care most of the village has major eye conditions early in adulthood.