Donations used wisely, for once
Ever since my high school days, I had been interested in interning for an NGO, or some other philanthropic organisation which operated in a transparent and accountable manner, with the funds entrusted to it by its donors making their way directly to the downtrodden, unhindered. I was fully aware of the fact that a stint with any such charitable body would effectively serve as a noteworthy embellishment to my resume, increasing my chances of being enrolled in a high ranking university, as well as demonstrating a benevolent attachment to the profound cause of human rights activism and rehabilitation. Even writing about such work, or latent intentions in favour of such a project, sounds ennobling and incalculably modest, and I could imagine the effect such revelations might have had on the minds of potential interviewees.
I wasn’t lucky enough to follow through with such a project in my school days, but I finally got the opportunity in my sophomore year in college. I had enrolled in the graduates’ career’s portal which, according to students’ unique dispositions and interests (as indicated in our student profiles); identified and emailed suitable job vacancies and internship openings as they emerged on the internet. One of these invites came from the CARE Foundation, a local Pakistani NGO which, through a series of highly commendable educational initiatives aimed at empowering the despondent and poverty stricken youth of the country, had expanded its operations countrywide since its inception in 1988. Its monumental successes in working to uplift the masses from the grassroots up had eventually led it to gain an international following, and subsequently the organisation had opened its offices in the United States and the UK to much fanfare.
I soon got a call to appear for the interview, and thereafter, the orientation session for new interns commenced. A total of 100 interns were selected; a small minority of which was composed of college students, while the rest were still completing their secondary education. Each of us was given a carefully worded curriculum, which comprised novel and intricately designed activities to be taught by us to the students in their ‘CARE Adopted Schools’; a term I soon became familiar with. We were then divided into small groups, and each group was assigned an internship coordinator from the CARE marketing team, as well as a CARE school allocated on the basis of regional proximity to the interns’ residential areas.
The girls, contrary to my former opinion, were enthusiastic, bright and intensely humorous. They possessed a certain maturity beyond their years; probably a result of the countless, poverty induced sorrows they must have had experienced in their young lives up till now.
Finally, we were then given the instructions necessary to enable a harmonious merger with the school’s resident teachers and working staff, as well as a heartwarming and thought provoking address by the organisation’s area manager. I can still recall a certain sentence uttered by the said individual about not expecting any superficiality or pomp from the CARE employees or students, and as my later experience proved; this observation turned out to accurately surmise the workings of CARE and its dedicated team.
Before reaching my designated institution, a CARE adopted public school called the Metropolitan Corporation Government Girls High School, Qainchi; I had been expecting failings in basic infrastructure, as well as a collective of students possessing very little comprehension and articulation abilities. After a hurried introduction and pleasantries exchanged with the school’s resident staff, we were shown our respective classrooms. Two to three interns were assigned to each classroom, but I had the privilege of being the sole instructor within mine. The 55 students in my class, all of whom were girls between the ages of 10 and 13, instantly connected with me, and from there on commenced a student-teacher relationship which provided countless instances of pride and contentment to me; something I would indeed cherish for a long time.
The girls, contrary to my former opinion, were enthusiastic, bright and intensely humorous. They possessed a certain maturity beyond their years; probably a result of the countless, poverty induced sorrows they must have had experienced in their young lives up till now. I could also clearly discern, as I conducted various activities related to prospective career options, a streak of entrepreneurial spirit and repressed ambition to achieve something substantial in life, within almost all of the girls present. But perhaps what was most heartening to observe was the great degree of empathy and sisterly regard the girls had for each other; a trait which many private schools these days fail to inculcate within their pupils, leading to a great degree of unnecessary competition and propensity towards ‘leg pulling’, which becomes a distressing part of their characters.
A great majority of the students in my class related personal, heart wrenching experiences concerned with their tragically violent domestic lives; a ‘constant feature of their existence’, as one girl so eloquently put it.
A great majority of the students in my class related personal, heart wrenching experiences concerned with their tragically violent domestic lives; a ‘constant feature of their existence’, as one girl so eloquently put it. Abusive fathers, deprived mothers, large numbers of siblings to support, as well as cruel joint family systems were some of the woes which featured in a great multitude of the narratives I came to hear in my class, and left me wondering about the depths of our cultural degradation, and disregard for basic human compassion. Lack of funds to ensure even the most basic forms of life support was, of course, a concern shared by all the girls.
In spite of all these obstacles, and impediments which would have served to reduce individuals with the strongest of psychological dispositions to a seething wreck of misery, I was much inspired to observe that the girls had retained their mischievous grins, their hopeful eyes, and the subtly enamoring human trait of hoping for the best. I was heartened, again, to discover that faith in the prospect of a prosperous future had not deserted them in the least.
What I can honestly say, after my exhilarating experience working as a CARE intern, is the substantial amount of honest, rehabilitative efforts the organisation is engaged in. I could see that the donations received were being used wisely and completely for the sake of the children; an inspiring realisation to say the least.
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