Learning Experience

IN 2001, WANDA'S ORIGINAL PLAN was simply to set up scholarships to cover tuition, books and uniforms for children in Bumwalukani's government-run schools. Working through his church, Bethel United Church of Christ in Arlington, and word of mouth, he raised money in handfuls -- a personal check here, a donation of pencils there. ATS sent over books and other supplies, and passed word on to its families.

Two years later, Wanda held a meeting in the classroom of a Bumwalukani school. The parents of scholarship students filed in and sat down on the floor, and the chairman of the scholarship program, a local teacher and one of the few literate adults, read from a prepared speech.

"I take this opportunity to thank our son John Wanda, project patron, for the sweet tongue and hard work performed in America to persuade our dear donors to help Bumwalukani children," he began. But even as the chairman read statistics touting the program's success -- a widening pool of students, an increase in parent interest, a reduction in the number of children sent to do chores at the market during school hours -- Wanda sensed something was missing. The room lacked optimism, any real sense of accomplishment.

As the chairman read on, it became clear why. Even children who got scholarships were still receiving a substandard education. They might have books, but their classmates and teachers didn't. They might be freed from chores to get to school on time, but that didn't mean the teachers and other students would reliably show up.

Then the chairman said the words that told Wanda what he needed to do.

"Parents suggest that the children, at the primary level, would benefit fully from the program if we shall have a model school for the program."

A model school.

WANDA DID NOT ASK PEOPLE FOR MONEY OUTRIGHT. Addressing the Rotary Club or the Kiwanis Club, he would show slides of children from Bumwalukani and describe how hard he had worked as a child to be first in his class so he could win a chicken. His quiet enthusiasm garnered attention -- and donations.

As money began to come in, the enormity of building a school half a world away began to weigh on him. He started pulling 16-hour days, staying in his office after work until midnight to focus on the school. Often he left home in the morning before his children were awake and returned after they were asleep. The family stopped taking vacations.

"For me, doing this is as important as the family -- if probably not more," he said, "because I consider all of these people as my family."

Construction on what would become the Arlington Academy of Hope (www.arlingtonacademyofhope.org) began in Bum-walukani in late 2003, on a plot of land Wanda's father had donated. Teachers were hired from Kampala, 200 miles away, for $200 a month, far more than government schools pay. The board, made up of Americans and Ugandans, included Hawthorne; Wanda's brother Sam in Kampala; an ATS parent representative; and a third-grade teacher, Cynthia Margeson, who was retiring after 32 years in the Arlington schools.

As the building rose, funding was shaky. The first estimate for the school's cost was $15,000. "We sent the money, and this money was not enough to even build half of the school," Wanda said. "And at that time we had no more money. We completely didn't have any money. The building was half done, it was not even roofed; we knew the rains would come and would sort of destroy what we had put together. So it was very worrying."