Annet is an awe-inspiring single mother of triplets who needs your help. After delivering one baby, she rushed to a hospital on a motorbike where she unexpectedly delivered two more! Abandoned by her husband, she is raising these precious miracles alone. And her family desperately needs a safe home.Continue Reading ›
For Mother’s Day, we asked children in our program to share reasons why they love their mothers. Here are their beautiful answers about the strong, loving women who raised them. “I love you mom, because…”View Gallery ›
Through life-skills training and microloans, mothers in the Child Survival program are learning that poverty is not their destiny. Meet some of the mompreneurs using their God-given potential and capacity to build a strong future for their children.
Names are important. They have power. They define us. They’re more than a bunch of letters grouped together to sound pleasant to the ear. Names are more than a convenience allowing us to talk to each other. Names are a gift from God. They contain His power. They define things. They define us.
Women around the world face obstacles that most of us can hardly begin to fathom. Lack of access to family planning leaves mothers in developing countries with no easy way to control the size of their families, and in the end, robs both the mother and her children of a better life.
The question to measure the success of interventions to the poor is, “Did the person delivering the service and the person receiving the service build trust in each other?”
María lives in the La Victoria Alta neighborhood, a place with limited access to public transportation and public services. It is one hour away from Quito’s downtown area, a place where the cold weather is so intense that people feel chilled to the bone. María is one of the hundreds of mothers who cry at Christmas time.
Most Papuan women still give birth with traditional methods in a traditional Papuan house made of wood with a grass bed. They prefer to give birth at home because they are also afraid of the service from health workers who are not always friendly. Many believe that it is more efficient to give birth at home alone or with help of someone who lives nearby.
The 21st century has witnessed a great rise in development around the world. Communications and scientific research are developing at a rapid pace. The world is moving toward great change in culture and lifestyle. Gender equality is becoming common in many places, and girls are achieving heights once thought not possible.
However, even as the world is moving toward progress, the age-old social evil of female infanticide still shows its ugly face in developing countries such as India.
At the center of Riaciina village in Kenya lies a semi-permanent house, traditionally constructed. The walls of the house are made of mud and smoothly smeared with cow dung. The roof is thatched with iron sheets. There is a big gap between the mud and iron sheets. Mosquitoes penetrate freely day and night.
This is the home of Amina, a toddler enrolled in the local Child Survival Program (CSP). At the back of the homestead lies waste from the nearby kitchen. On the other side of the home are thick bushes of indigenous trees.
As the CSP specialist visited the mother, mosquito bites could be noted on the face of the child. Throughout the session, the TEEEE! TEEEE! sound of mosquitoes could be heard.
In some countries, mosquitoes are just nuisance, but in Riaciina, mosquitoes pose a deadly threat. Mosquito-borne malaria is the major killer disease in the area.
Riaciina village lies in the semi-arid part of Kenya on the extreme southern slopes of the largest mountain in Kenya, Mount Kirinyaga. The occupants are mainly the Ambeere and the Akaamba people whose primary work is farming and fishing.
Being a mother takes courage. Being an expectant mother in desperate poverty takes courage and so much more.
Each year more than 500,000 mothers die in childbirth or from pregnancy complications, most of which are preventable. The babies who survive while their mothers die are much more likely to die in their first year of life.
It’s a Creole phrase that many parents in these poorest areas of Haiti use with their youngest kids. I’m sure you’ll hear it often over the next several days as we visit homes. It’s a term of endearment … but also a harsh reality that reminds everyone of how devastating each day can be for people living on the brink. Ti Chape means little survivor or one who has escaped death