Yesterday the teachers of Toronto were granted the honour of hearing L. Gen Romeo Dallaire and former child soldier Michel Chikwanine speak about their experiences. This was an inspiring and moving morning which I am truly grateful to have attended.

As I listened to young Michel speak of his life as a youngster in Democratic Republic of Congo, I was moved by the fact that he did not have a childhood. At the age of 5 he was abducted by the rebel troops and made to attack villages and kill his peers. He was never granted the opportunity to experience joy, innocence and wonder.

L Gen Dallaire has dedicated his life to the eradication of child soldiers. He speaks of being haunted by the images of children carrying machetes and AK-47s, prepared to kill on command. During his time in Rwanda, Dallaire was faced with a question that no one should have to answer: Do we kill children who kill? Imagine, this is a question soldiers are increasingly forced to ask themselves. Dallaire argues that children are the current weapon of choice in wars around the world.

Obviously the stories I heard yesterday were heartbreaking. I did however take a moment to feel gratitude, not just for my own situation, but also for that of my girls in Malawi. Malawi is a peaceful country. At this time, people are allowed to express their views, girls can be educated and people of different tribes live together in an atmosphere of respect.

The girls in Malawi suffer great hardships which even I, who have spent many months with them, can not fully understand but at the very least they know that they are safe. They can play. They dance and sing and appreciate the simple pleasures in life. I will continue to work to make their lives better but I do realize that it is all relative as they are far more fortunate than their peers in other parts of the world.

As always, I am grateful to have been born in Canada.

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Today is world AIDS day and of course I’m thinking of my friends in Malawi. While many in Canada live with AIDS and suffer the health, employment and emotional challenges that come with the disease, they know that they can live a long and productive life. This is not yet the reality in Malawi.

While HIV/AIDS is no longer a death sentence in Malawi it still greatly decreases one’s quality of life. There is still a stigma attached to the disease such that many will lie about the death of a loved one in order to avoid ridicule and shame.

While AIDS is on the decline in Malawi, down from 11% of the population to 5%, it is still a significant source of concern. Unfortunately the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, TB and Malaria has pulled its funding from many developing countries. This means that those in need of ARVs will likely have to begin to pay for them out of pocket. Given the lack of foreign currency in Malawi I feel it is unlikely that the government will be able to purchase the ARVs (antiretrovirals) from developed countries. This will mean a great shortage of the medication in the country. It is expected that 70 000 new cases will be reported next year.

One MP has suggest putting a tax on beer and using that money to fund HIV/AIDS treatment. Malawians do like their beer so perhaps this is not a bad suggestion.

As always, I feel grateful for my health and good fortune.

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Last night I was watching Gloria Steinem on W5. She noted that women of the world do 70% of the labour but own only 1% of the property. In 2011, this is an incredibly disturbing fact. Being a woman who owns property I often take for granted how lucky I am to have been born and educated in Canada.

Today was Mother’s Day in Malawi. Tomorrow workers will have a day off in honour of this holiday. Mothers in Malawi are by far the hardest working people I have ever known. Let me outline a typical day in the life of Florence, the wife of my good friend, Kalirani.

Both Florence and I are elementary school teachers but Florence is so much more. As I’ve mentioned in the past, elementary school teachers in Malawi all want to teach secondary school because the salary is at least triple. Florence is not unlike her elementary teaching peers.

A typical weekday for Florence begins at about 3:00am. Upon waking she spends 90 minutes studying for her secondary school equivalency tests. She is taking 6 night school classes to complete her final year of secondary school. After her morning study session, Florence starts a fire to heat water for cooking and bathing. She then begins to prepare breakfast for her husband who will rise at 6:00. Instead of sitting around waiting for the fire to heat the water Florence washes some of her family’s clothes. Finally she hangs the clothes on the line and takes her own bath. Once Kalirani is awake, he goes to church and she begins to prepare the food they will sell to the other teachers at lunch time. She leaves the house around 7:00, always cheerful and grateful to see another day.

Her school is a short walk down the road. She teaches grade 8 in a class of about 80 students. Like teachers here she is expected to complete a lot of redundant testing and assessments. Each child is to receive some sort of personal written evaluation each day.

Florence returns home at about 3pm, has a bit of lunch, which is by now cold. She then takes the clothes off the line and begins another load of washing. She might also have to carry a 50kg bag of maize to the local mill for grinding. She is fortunate enough to have a wheel barrow to transport the maize. The line at the mill is usually long and provides her some opportunity for socializing.

At 5:00 Florence goes over her notes for whichever class she is to attend that evening and by 6:00 she is gone, back to school. Each class is for one hour. Some nights she will attend 2 classes.

After her evening classes Florence returns home to eat a late dinner with her family. She is lucky to have boys at home who are very helpful in preparing food. When she arrives home she may just need to put the finishing touches on the meal.

After dinner Florence and Kalirani watch the news while she dozes in the chair. By 9:00 she admits defeat and heads off to bed.

On the weekends, Florence attends classes from 12 until 4. In the morning she may do her hair, attend to church business, visit an ailing neighbour or mend Kalirani’s clothes.

Florence works hard every day. She welcomed me into her home with no reservations and with an open heart and mind. This is a mother, like so many Malawian mothers, who deserves a day to be honoured and pampered.

Happy Mother’s Day to all Malawian mothers.

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