Goodbye, Goodbye, We Shall Meet Again

As I pack and prepare my things to depart from Zomba tomorrow morning, I do so with a heavy, heavy heart. Today was our last day at Malemia Primary School and I am not good with goodbyes. While everyone had cheerful smiles recalling the memories we have made together over the last few weeks, we also shared tears. I am so touched by the kindnesses shown to us by Esther Majawa, the Head Teacher at Malemia, all of the teachers, as well as the children. I will miss the children’s smiling faces greeting me each morning; I will miss the teachers’ warm hellos and I will miss the dirt road that leads into the village. I will miss the walk home in the afternoons and our little friends who accompany us for the journey each day, eager to know us, hold our hands and connect with us, to teach us Chichewa and to just play with us along the way. Most of all, I will miss Geraldi and Sanjo, and their little group of friends.


I will never my searching for Geraldi on the first day here this summer. Little did I know I would hear his voice calling my name from the tip top of a large tree in the middle of nowhere.

What a memory! As Caroline and I walked along the path this afternoon, I once again looked for my friend, hoping to have a chance to say goodbye. I recalled all of the days we played ball together with a ball made of plastic, the afternoons we danced and our conversations, part in English and part in Chichewa. I have been worried about Geraldi this year, because he does not seem to be clean and well groomed as he has in years past. He does not seem to go to school either. He just wanders around with his entourage of friends. I love his smile and his personality. He is very smart and cute as ever, too. Today, I was prepared with goodbye gifts. I wanted to give Geraldi and Sanjo jackets, because their clothes are so tattered and dirty. I know they must be cold. I also planned to give one of them my shoes. I had a spare pair to change into in my backpack. Along the walk today, we spotted them, just the two of them along the dirt path, and I decided to seize the moment. I gave them the jackets and their faces lit up with bright smiles. Then, Geraldi broke my heart, as he always does. He gave me some cassava, and said it was a gift for me.

Geraldi and Sanjo made a ball for me today, which I am bringing home and will treasure forever, and we walked together to our classroom at MIE. Today was a special day, our last day together. So, I invited the two boys into the classroom with me. I could tell they felt privileged to enter into the room with me. They knew it was okay, because I permitted it. We ate lunch together and I let them play with my camera. They also drew pictures on some notebook paper. Several other children joined us a bit later. It was a most wonderful afternoon, full of laughter and smiles. I just tried to soak it all in and savor every moment, for I knew at some point in the late afternoon, we would have to say goodbye.

Our group has been working on a song in Chichewa to sing for the teachers at our Farewell Dinner, which was to take place this evening. We practiced it this afternoon, and the children joined in with us. Hearing their voices sing in Chichewa, “We are thanking you, we have stayed well. Goodbye, Goodbye, We Shall Meet Again” brought tears to my eyes. I did not want to say goodbye.

Carly, one of our RU students, wanted to give away her shoes to one of the boys today, and I did as well. When the children left the room, we held Geraldi and Sanjo back. Carly and I placed our shoes on their precious little feet. They were so surprised and happy. It was a moment I’ll always remember. Other students ended up giving away their shoes as well. I gave away my second pair, too. Most of us returned home to Annie’s Lodge in our socks.

As the sun went down this evening, it was time. I wrapped Sanjo in my arms and hugged him as tightly as I could. I told him I’d be back and that he is loved. I then held my Geraldi close to my heart and told him I love him. He whispered, “You will come back.” “I will,” I said and hugged him one final time. When I entered into the hall for our dinner, I looked behind me through the window, only to see Geraldi and Sanjo waving and smiling at me. I will never forget today.

I learned this afternoon that the two of them are most likely orphans, living under the care of their 15 year old brother. My heart feels like it is broken into a million little pieces.