PRINTThree young women are on a mission to save Africa
They're on their way to raising $25,000 to build a school in Malawi.
Kyle Spradley
Bree Dunn, Kyle Kilroy and Libby Wolfe show off the T-shirts they made as part of their Mizzou for Malawi campaign. The three teamed up to raise money to build a school in Africa, and the group has already raised more than $12,000 for a school in Salima.
November 27, 2008 | 12:00 a.m. CST
Salima, Malawi, is like a different world. Roosters wander the streets and peck at the black, bare feet of orphans kicking around a soccer ball. Dirt forms at the corners of the children’s cracked lips. They play without recognizing the irony of the luxury Victorian hotels hiding behind the fence of Acacia trees.
The kids run in shirts two sizes too big that hang with the weight of crusted sweat. They should be in school, with their parents or at least in a field away from the road. But there aren’t any schools. Many of their parents are dead or dying, and the children play in dirt in front of straw and concrete shacks instead of a field. The sick, who make up part of the 930,000 Malawians with HIV/AIDS, watch with glazed eyes. Eighty-five thousand will die before the wet season is over.
Several collages of Malawian children are displayed at Libby Wolfe’s sorority house. A change drive, ...
Forty-five hundred miles away in Prague, it’s 2 in the morning, and Bree Dunn, an MU junior, paces her flat with notes in hand. In five hours she will present her summer internship’s marketing plan. Africa is the last thing on her mind.
Bree loves living in the Czech Republic. At least that is what she would say if she could see more than the St. Vitus Cathedral on the walk to work. Without her morning coffee, she could easily mistake it for Memorial Union. She isn’t sure if she misses MU, but she definitely misses her friends.
In Prague, it’s 2 in the morning, and Bree receives a Skype call. She doesn’t really have time to take it, but it’s her best friend from school, Libby Wolfe. Bree accepts the video chat, and Libby’s face appears.
“Hey,” Libby says. “Do you, um, want to save Africa with me?”
“Excuse me?”
Libby doesn’t believe they will actually be saving all of Africa. The phrase has emerged as the shorthand expression to explain a bigger plan. Not more than a month earlier on a Sunday afternoon in Overland Park, Kan., Libby lounges in her father’s basement finally able to relax during her summer vacation. Her father, Chuck Wolfe, sits on the other couch, his face backlit from the bay windows that glare off the television showing a rerun of CSI: New York.
Chuck Wolfe — Mr. Wolfe to you — looks like Bruce Willis but with more hair. He sits on a couch across from his daughter. Wolfe’s presence demands attention like Marlon Brando in The Godfather except he talks with excited hands, slicing his words as they fly from his mouth. Once an accomplished lawyer, teacher and entrepreneur, he is one of those guys who will do anything just to check it off his bucket list. After all, he wrote a book a few years ago just to complete a life goal.
“Libby, there is something I want to talk to you about,” he says. Libby turns down the volume; it’s a commercial anyway.
If this were a movie, a recording would play: “Libby, I have a mission if you so choose to accept it.” The Wolfe family has always been on a mission. Recently, the Wolfes heard a story about 600 children in Salima who had no hospital, no school, no mothers and no hope. It broke their hearts.
According to the United Nations Development Programme, Malawi is about the same size as Maine but with 10 times the population — a staggering 12.6 million people. There just aren’t enough resources. Malawi exports tobacco and tea, but not at a rate that could help the country become economically independent.
There are 9.57 million Malawians living on less than $2 a day, 2 million of whom live on less than $1 a day. The country is starving, and food isn’t the only problem. AIDS and malaria have diminished the adult population by killing an estimated 61,000 a year. Most Malawians won’t live past the age of 40, but what can be expected with only two doctors for every 100,000 people?
Africa is a long way from Libby in Overland Park, but with every excited, hand-gestured word, Mr. Wolfe drags the country a little bit closer.
Mr. Wolfe explains that he has been talking to Joe Knittig, an old buddy from the law firm they used to work at, who is now the executive director of C3 Missions International. C3 is a Christian nonprofit that, according to its mission statement, “catalyzes action to transform the lives of orphans” in third world countries. C3 organizes the construction of communities and care for those in need. Unlike many nonprofits, 100 percent of the money raised goes toward its causes. Any of C3’s company expenses are covered by the founders and private donations.
Knittig had explained to Wolfe that C3 was planning one of its largest projects in Malawi. The company had secured donation committments to build a hospital and a birthing center as part of a village model. It’s a good start, but it isn’t enough. If the company can build a school and some houses, then maybe the community can learn to take care of itself.
It didn’t take long for Mr. Wolfe to jump on board. He and his wife decided they would spearhead fundraising for the $300,000 needed to build 60 homes. They thought it would be a good idea to get college students involved, so they started Change a Life, a program concept for college fundraising efforts for Africa.
So Libby, how do you feel about saving Africa?
On a Sunday afternoon in Overland Park and at 2 in the morning in Prague, the country became incredibly close to two MU students who decided to raise $25,000 for 600 orphans to have a school. Mizzou for Malawi, an MU version of the Change a Life program, emerged. It was as if they woke up, brushed their teeth and decided to put on a pair of red, shiny superhero boots and say, “You know, I think I’ll save the world today.”
But it didn’t take long to feel like those boots were still a little too big. Although $25,000 might not seem like much for an entire school, the dollar stretches far in Malawi. It was already September, and C3 had plans to break ground on the simple 3,500 square-foot school in February. They needed help. They needed a ringer. They needed Kyle Kilroy.
Kyle was at her off-campus house in Columbia settling into some early semester homework after catching up with a few of her sorority sisters. It looked to be a busy year for this marketing and economics major. Her phone vibrated across the table; it was Bree.
After the standard catch-up conversation, Bree settles into business. “So … you know Libby, right?”
Sure she knew Libby. She wasn’t in her cell phone contacts or anything, but they had a relationship that was close enough to say hi when scuttling across campus.
“Well … so …” Bree says trying to subtly slip into the topic. “Do you want to help us save Africa?”
Sounds good. Kyle suggested pitching in a few bucks, but Bree and Libby were looking for more.
After hearing the story of the Malawian orphans, Kyle agreed to join the group. She says she didn’t know what she was getting herself into, but none of the young women did. Kyle was the last piece of the puzzle. With her onboard, the wheels started to move.
The three started with what they knew — their sororities. In just the first week in September they had recruited a list of 45 young women willing to stand in Speakers Circle to collect change, make fliers and call in favors. In a few more weeks, there wasn’t enough work for all of the volunteers to do. “Our volunteers are amazing,” Libby says. “We would be nothing without them.”
The trio works in perfect unison, each bringing a different perspective. Give them each a cape, and they are like a superhero team. Kyle is the excellent businesswoman by day, not afraid to work well into the night. Bree is more of the creative one. She can make anything out of nothing. Her mind pumps out ideas faster than she can talk. And finally, every group needs a leader. Libby is the decisive one, the original hero. She is Superman without the flashy tights, the strength holding the group together even though she would sometimes rather be in disguise.
Mizzou for Malawi has raised funds in a variety of ways. The change drive brought in some money, and T-shirt sales have done fairly well, but their greatest success to date was in October. At the Upper Crust Café, 550 black-and-gold adorned students lined up for the group’s first benefit party. The party brought in more than $5,500. Absolutely everything had been donated, so there were no expenses. At one point the three young women stood at the front of the room and looked over the benefit. “Guys,” Libby said. “We did this.”
By the end of October, Mizzou for Malawi had raised just more than $7,000. Now, at the end of November, they are at the $12,000 mark. They are nearly halfway to their goal, but a lot of work must still be done. “I wish I could just drop a check for $12,000,” Libby says. “But we are getting there. Yeah, it is frustrating at times, but when we get that last dollar, I can’t even imagine what it will feel like.” Her voice trails off like she is slipping into a daydream.
“Never in my life did I think it was going to be that successful,” Kyle says. “And really, it is because everyone was willing to help. Willing to help just to help.” It might be frustrating at times, but the group feels confident and excited about what they have accomplished.
“[They’re] not doing this to get praised,” Knittig says. “I’d call them heroes, but it doesn’t do them justice. Real heroism is not about glory. A real hero sacrifices for others.” He explains that these young women are not only raising money. They are spreading generosity across the campus. It isn’t about one person; it is about everyone giving a little to achieve a goal that would change hundreds of lives.
Like a man at his pulpit, Knittig sometimes slips into preaching: “[Their] generation gets it. They are motivated by purpose. Most of my generation thinks happiness comes from money. We don’t get it. They do.” It’s like a house of cards glued together, he says. The cards are thin and cannot stand on their own. But put together, they grow into something magnificent. “They might not even believe it yet, but college kids are building a school big enough for 1,000 orphans.”
But why? Why would students with little money themselves give it away? The question floats through Kyle’s head all the time.
“It’s not that people aren’t sincere, good people,” she says. “But we often are only thinking about our résumés and not on a deeper level. The fact that my mind is in business, and I have to think of a way to reward people so [we] can help someone else. We’ve lost heart on giving to give.”
The group is determined to reach $25,000 — the only question is by when? Groundbreaking for the school begins in February, but the women and their 45 volunteers will raise money until the school is paid for in full. In the next month, the group is planning their second benefit party. If every MU student donated only $1, the group would surpass their goal. They don’t expect all students to give, but they hope their reputation will inspire some students to donate. Perhaps after seeing the volunteers braving the cold, it will loosen a few pockets. If not the group is exploring fundraising options with the Missouri Alumni Association and Columbia’s elementary schools. In any case, they want to reach their goal before Christmas. Next semester Libby has an internship abroad and would like to see the $25,000 check in person.
Miles away in Africa, the sun burns the horizon as it sets. Kids play soccer in the streets but will soon retire to their bungalows. If they are lucky, they will have some water and a handful of beans. They will play soccer again tomorrow and maybe the next day, but life will change soon. They will have a hospital and doctors. They will have places to live and beds to sleep in. And before next May and the dry season, they will have a school and a chance at a better life. They might not ever realize it, but thousands of miles away — a world they will probably never visit — three young women woke up, put on a pair of shiny red boots and decided to save Africa.
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This is a great cause. If anyone wants to learn more about Mizzou for Malawi, visit online at www.changealife.us.
Posted by Chuck Wolfe on Nov 28, 2008 at 6:53 p.m. (Report Comment)
The wording of this article strikes me as racist. Three women are going to "save" Africa? From what, itself? I'd contest that people are saved from things like burning buildings and shark attacks, not their continent. Their intentions are not racist, I don't think, but it's written in a way that makes the people of Malawi look like "those poor Africans."
Posted by Paul Weber on Dec 5, 2008 at 4:42 p.m. (Report Comment)