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by Muthoni Gakwa & Trizah Gakwa Telling people what we think, how we're experiencing them, how they performed, how they could grow, seems on the surface like a pretty easy thing to do. And yet. We don't. Not nearly enough. Not in the ways that matter. And especially not in the development sector, where we are all, ostensibly, values-driven. Where we work gruelling hours toward missions we genuinely believe in. Where the stated goal is to make the world more just, more dignified, more whole. We say all of that. And then we go silent in the very conversations that would make our work more honest, more effective, and more human. Here is the first thing worth saying plainly: people who avoid difficult conversations are not cowardly or conflict-averse. In fact, we all do it. Trizah and I are both direct people. We have delivered hard news to hard people and held our ground. And yet, we still fell into this. Because the problem isn't the character, It's conditioning. We are trained, in hundreds of subtle ways, to believe that caring means protecting people from discomfort. We confuse nice with kind. And then we build entire professional cultures around that confusion. In the development sector specifically, that confusion becomes structural. Funders soften their concerns to avoid seeming extractive, even when their honest assessment would help a grantee make better decisions. Grantees swallow their pushback to protect the partnership, even when naming a problem early would prevent a much bigger one later. Peers stay quiet about duplication because naming it feels competitive. Managers paper over performance gaps because the person is a good person and the organization needs them. Executive Directors soften feedback to board members, especially in a sector where most board members volunteer their time, and you don't want to ruffle feathers. Co-founders let unresolved tensions sit because naming them feels like a threat to something fragile and shared. Every well-intentioned silence has a cost. The cost is just deferred, distributed, and harder to trace back to the moment of avoidance. And if we're honest, it isn't always about protecting the other person. Sometimes the silence is self-preservation. We don't want the conflict. We don't want to be seen as difficult. We don't want to risk the relationship, the funding, the goodwill. in centering our own comfort, we quietly stop centering the growth of the person in front of us, and by extension, the team and the work they're all trying to do together. You are not simply failing personally when you default to this. You are responding to real incentives in a sector that has, too often, mistaken politeness for professionalism. Naming that clearly is what lets you disrupt it. I have done this. I am still learning not to. And because I think it helps to be specific about where and how, I want to share a story. When Metis went through its leadership transition, and I stepped into the Executive Director role, one of the most significant opportunities I had to practice radical candor was with my predecessor, Rebecca Crook, who has most graciously given her consent for this story to be shared. I'm sharing it not because it is exceptional, but because it is ordinary. I have watched this exact dynamic play out across our ecosystem, quietly and repeatedly. It happens to people who genuinely know better, who care deeply, who would tell you, and mean it, that honest communication is one of their core values. Rebecca built Metis from the ground up. Of course surrounded by an extraordinary team and community. She was, however, the one who held the original vision, who made the earliest sacrifices and carried the organization in her body before it had a structure to carry itself. My respect for her was immense. It still is. And that respect, that particular kind of admiration, quietly became a ceiling on my honesty. Not consciously. I didn't sit down and decide to soften things around Rebecca. But in hindsight, I can see it: there were things I observed, concerns I held, patterns I needed to name, and I didn't name them. Because the lens I saw her through was too fixed. Founder. Builder. The person who made this possible. How do you challenge that? Here's what I didn't know at the time: Rebecca was navigating the mirror image on her side. With great respect for me and for the organization she had built, determined not to interfere too much after her transition, she was also holding back. Waiting. Being careful in ways that, when we finally talked about it, looked exactly like mine. We were both being protective of each other, of the organization, of something we hadn't yet found the words for. And in that protectiveness, we were both quietly accumulating the cost of things unsaid. This dynamic is not unusual. Whether it's a founder-to-ED transition, a funder-grantee relationship, a team member who is a good person but not delivering, or a manager who could lead better, the same pattern shows up everywhere in this sector. We care. We stay quiet. And the silence slowly becomes its own kind of problem. There is a framework that is named what I was doing, and it gave me a way out of it. Radical Candor, developed by Kim Scott, is deceptively simple: Care Personally. Challenge Directly. Both, simultaneously. Not one at the expense of the other. What makes it useful isn't the simplicity. It's what happens when you try to actually do it, and discover how precisely and persistently you've been trained away from that combination. Scott names four quadrants. The one that will feel most familiar to most people reading this is Ruinous Empathy: the place where you care deeply but don't challenge directly. Where silence is mistaken for kindness. Where softened feedback lands as noise. Where the thing you needed to say gets deferred until it's too heavy to carry gently. That was Rebecca and me. From there, the drift is predictable.  Manipulative Insincerity is when you neither care nor challenge, political maneuvering dressed as management. Obnoxious Aggression is a challenge without care, the overcorrection that often comes after a long season of Ruinous Empathy, when the unsaid things have accumulated enough weight that they push through blunt and too late. Silence. More silence. Then, an explosion that surprises everyone except the person who was carrying it.  The fourth quadrant, the place the framework points us toward, is Radical Candor itself: genuine care and direct challenge, held together at the same time. Knowing the framework is one thing. Building it into how you actually work is another. A few things have helped me. Care loudly enough that challenge can land, because care isn't the preamble; it's the load-bearing structure. When people know, viscerally and repeatedly, that your challenge comes from genuine investment in them, they can receive it without bracing. Don't assume they know you care. Say it. Show it. Make it visible and specific, before and after the hard thing. Then get specific about the challenge itself, or don't bother, because vague feedback creates anxiety without direction. "You need to think about how you're showing up" is not radical candor, it's an invitation to ruminate without action. "In Tuesday's meeting, when James proposed the new approach, you sighed and looked at the ceiling. That landed as dismissal, and I could see him shut down. That's what I want to talk about," that is something a person can work with. Notice too when you're softening something, a concern, an observation, a feeling, and pause long enough to ask: Am I protecting this person, or protecting myself? Protecting someone from a difficult truth they need to know is not kindness. It is the management of your own discomfort, dressed as consideration for theirs. And don't wait for a crisis to practice any of this. Radical candor practiced only under pressure arrives too loaded. Build the muscle in smaller moments, honest appreciation, genuine curiosity, and the "what am I missing?" question asked and meant. These repetitions, compounded, create the relational trust that makes harder conversations possible when they come. And they will come. Because as humans, whole, complicated, imperfect humans working in sectors that ask a great deal of us, we will fall. We will avoid the conversation we should have had. We will let something accumulate until it becomes a different kind of problem. We will drift from Ruinous Empathy into Obnoxious Aggression and hurt someone we didn't mean to hurt. Which brings me to the part I most want to write about. Repair. Repair is harder than the original conversation would have been. It requires more investment, more humility, more willingness to sit in discomfort longer. It sometimes doesn't work, and that's worth saying plainly, which is precisely why the daily practice matters so much. Repair is the emergency option. Radical candor, practiced habitually, is the design intent. But when you find yourself needing to repair, and most of us will, here is what worked for Rebecca and me. Start by seeing the person as a human, first. Before the issue, before the feedback, before the carefully worded framing, see the whole person. What they were carrying when this happened. What they were trying to do, and what it may have cost them too. This is not about excusing what went wrong. It is about bringing enough humanity to the table that the repair has somewhere to land. When I finally sat with Rebecca in that conversation, what made it possible was that we both started there, not with the gap, but with the relationship. From that place, speak candidly about the issue, and do it in person. Not over email, not through an intermediary, not in a carefully worded message that lets both parties avoid the discomfort of being present together. The point of repair is restoration of trust, and trust is rebuilt in real time, in the presence of another person. Say the specific thing. Name what happened and your part in it. I should have said this sooner. I held back because of how much I respected you, and here is what that cost us both. Then stay in it long enough to hear them back, because repair is not a monologue. If you arrive with your account of what happened and no genuine openness to hearing theirs, you are performing repair, not doing it. The willingness to be changed by what you hear, to update, to be accountable, to hold complexity without rushing toward resolution, is what distinguishes a real conversation from an apology tour. Rebecca and I got there. It took time, and intentionality, and both of us being willing to say the true thing in the room together rather than around it. We trust each other now with a specificity that we couldn't have had without going through it. The relationship is stronger for honesty, not in spite of it. That is what this framework, practiced seriously, makes possible, not just between two individuals, but in teams, partnerships, and organizations. I am still learning this. I am also more honest, more direct, and better at repair than I was three years ago, and the work at Metis is better for it. Because at the heart of all of this is something simple. The kind of honesty Radical Candor points toward is itself a form of respect. It says: I take you seriously enough to tell you the truth. I believe you can hold it. I am not going to protect you from reality because I've decided you can't handle it. Dignity requires truth. In organizations, funding relationships and team dynamics. In the rooms where we make decisions that affect communities, we have promised to serve well. Whether it's telling a funder that their structures don't match their stated commitment to proximate leadership, telling a team member they're not delivering, or telling your manager what they could do better. The cost of being nice is everywhere, if you look. There is a conversation you’ve been circling, start with that one. Muthoni Gakwa is the Executive Director of Metis Collective, a Kenya-based education nonprofit empowering grassroots leaders across East Africa. Trizah Gakwa is a Program Director and women's rights advocate. They co-facilitated "Nice Is Costing Us Impact: Radical Candor in the Development Sector" at the CLI 2026 gathering.

Eight months into InnovatED Amal Labs, what we’ve learned, what’s changed, and why now is the moment. There are roughly 360,000 registered teachers in Kenya. Each one walks into a classroom every day carrying more than a lesson plan. They carry administrative backlogs, marking piles, compliance documentation, and the quiet, cumulative weight of a system that has never quite figured out how to support the people at its centre. The average Kenyan public school teacher manages a class of 50 to 70 learners; in some counties, that number climbs past 100. UNESCO data consistently places sub-Saharan Africa among the regions with the most severe student-to-teacher ratios in the world. Studies across Kenyan schools consistently find that administrative duties, marking, records, and compliance documentation consume a significant portion of teachers’ time outside the classroom, leaving less for the work that matters most. Globally, about half of all teachers cite administrative overload as a major source of work-related stress, according to the OECD’s 2024 TALIS study. And according to the Teachers Service Commission, Kenya currently faces a shortage of more than 100,000 teachers, a gap that the TSC itself has warned will deepen further with the full rollout of senior secondary schools under CBE. These numbers matter. But they don’t fully capture what it feels like to be a teacher in Kenya right now. The moment we’re in Kenya is in the middle of one of the most ambitious education reforms on the continent. The Competency-Based Curriculum, now maturing into the broader Competency-Based Education (CBE) framework, represents a fundamental shift in what teaching is supposed to be. Out with rote learning and standardised drilling. In with critical thinking, creativity, collaboration, and differentiated support for each learner’s individual growth. It’s the right direction. Most educators will tell you that. But here’s the problem: the system is asking teachers to do more, more differentiation, more observation, more documentation of learner competencies, without giving them more time, more tools, or meaningfully more support. The reforms were designed around a vision of what teaching could be. They weren’t always designed around the reality of what teachers are currently navigating. That gap is where learners fall through. When a teacher is stretched, the impact lands in the classroom, with less time for individual attention, less space for the creativity that CBC demands, and fewer opportunities to adapt to different learning needs. The system continues, but not always in a way that allows every learner to truly thrive. Why this is also an extraordinary opportunity Here’s what we believe at Metis: moments of systemic transition are rare, and they’re powerful. Kenya’s shift to CBE isn’t just a policy change; it is an invitation to fundamentally reimagine how teachers are supported. And for the first time, the tools exist to make that reimagining real. AI-powered education tools, designed well and grounded in local context, can do something that policy alone cannot: they can give teachers their time back. They can reduce the hours spent on lesson planning, administrative documentation, and marking, and redirect that energy toward the human parts of teaching that no algorithm can replace. This is the frog-leap moment. Not incremental improvement. Not a slightly better worksheet. A genuine step-change in what’s possible for teachers and, by extension, for learners. But only if the technology is built with  teachers, not handed to  them. That belief is what InnovatED Amal Labs was designed around. What InnovatED Amal Labs actually is InnovatED Amal Labs is a collaboration between Metis and the Ayaat Foundation. At its core, it brings together two things that don’t often sit in the same room: the Metis Way, our human-centred design approach to education innovation, and Amal Labs’ intelligent AI tools built for the Kenyan classroom. Within that collaboration, Amal  is an AI co-teacher: a purposefully designed assistant that operates within a carefully developed pedagogical framework aligned to CBC. The tools teachers access, CBC-aligned lesson plan templates, editable guides, and resource generators, are built on that framework. The framework is the foundation. Amal is how it comes to life. The goal is straightforward: reduce what doesn’t need to take so long, so teachers can invest in what only they can do. Nine months in: what we’ve learned We launched in August 2025. Here’s an honest account of the journey so far. 1. Feedback, co-creation, and iteration aren’t just values — they’re survival We built InnovatED around the belief that real change is impossible if you’re not listening to the people at the centre of the work. Good thing we did. Because the teachers told us things we hadn’t anticipated. Many faced internet connectivity barriers, a reality across large parts of Kenya, especially in rural counties. Others struggled with platform login processes; something as seemingly minor as a forgotten email password became a genuine barrier to entry. And for teachers accessing tools primarily on mobile phones, which, in our community, was most of them, the platform experience needed to feel different. So we adapted. We redesigned for mobile. We introduced WhatsApp integration as a primary access point, meeting teachers on a platform they were already using daily. The shift was significant. Today, over 3,500 teachers are part of the InnovatED Amal Labs WhatsApp community, accounting for more than half of all the teachers we’ve reached. By reducing friction at the point of access, we deepened engagement across the board. 2. Community isn’t a nice-to-have; it’s the architecture of scale Our original theory of change relied heavily on webinars and in-school training sessions as the primary pathways to introduce teachers to the Amal platform. In many ways, this worked; we surpassed registration targets and saw strong initial attendance. But school closures, holiday periods, and logistical realities on the ground quickly showed us the limits of an approach built around fixed access points. The answer was already around us. Through partnerships with our alumni network, CEMASTEA, Makini Schools, EDTech East Africa, and the Kenya Women Teachers Association (KEWOTA), we found pathways that were credible, trusted, and built for scale. These weren’t just distribution channels; they were community relationships, and they changed the quality of engagement, not just the quantity. Scale through community isn’t the same as scale through broadcast. The former builds something that lasts. 3. The platform is the entry point. The transformation is something deeper. What we didn’t expect, or perhaps what we hoped for but didn’t dare assume, was how quickly teachers would begin to grow beyond the tool. Through the InnovatED Amal Labs course, a guided learning experience that sits alongside the platform, teachers are developing not just digital fluency but genuine pedagogical confidence. They’re co-planning lessons with peers, vetting new EdTech tools together, and stepping up to lead professional development sessions within their own schools. “After the course, I felt equipped to lead a digital literacy session for my colleagues. We now co-plan using Amal.” What began as individual access is becoming collective momentum. That’s the shift we were hoping for, and it’s just beginning. 4. Mindset change is the long game We’d be dishonest if we didn’t name this: change is hard, and not everyone is ready at the same speed. Some head teachers and CSOs have shown understandable scepticism toward AI-driven tools. Familiar systems, handwritten records, and established administrative routines carry real institutional trust. We don’t see this as resistance to be overcome. We see it as an invitation to slow down, build deeper trust, and walk alongside educators as they navigate change at their own pace. Kenya’s CBC transition has already required enormous adaptation from teachers. We are not trying to add another demand on top of an already full plate. We are trying to make the plate lighter. That framing has shaped how we show up with every school, every CSO, every county we work in. 5. Rest is not a reward. It’s a design principle. After an intensive quarter of field activity, our team took a deliberate pause. This is worth naming, not as a footnote, but as a philosophy. In high-intensity, purpose-driven work, rest is often treated as what you earn after you deliver. We’ve come to believe the opposite: sustainable teams are the only kind that can drive sustainable change. We practice this for our teachers. We practice it for ourselves. Where we are now Nine months in, InnovatED Amal Labs has reached over 7,500 teachers across Kenya, with a target of 10,000 by June 2026. More than 3,500 of those teachers are active within a peer learning community. Our partnership infrastructure now spans multiple counties, and we are continuing to deepen alignment with Kenya’s CBE national agenda, including through our existing partnership with CEMASTEA, a critical institutional bridge to government teacher training systems. The course remains an area of active growth, we are continuing to refine how we support teachers through the full development journey, not just platform adoption. This work is, genuinely, still in progress.   What we’re reaching toward What becomes possible when teachers finally have the time and confidence to teach the way they know how? Kenya’s CBE vision asks for differentiated, learner-centred education. That vision is within reach. But it will only be realised if the teachers implementing it are properly resourced, not just with curriculum frameworks and policy documents, but with tools that actually reduce their load, and communities that actually hold them. InnovatED Amal Labs is our answer to that gap. A human-centered framework. An AI co-teacher built on that framework. A community that learns together. Not a shortcut. A foundation. InnovatED Amal Labs is a partnership between Metis Collective, Amal and Ayaat Foundation, supporting teachers across Kenya to thrive in classrooms and beyond.

I recently had a conversation with the Giving Lab community at Tenacre Foundation and a colleague from the Euphrates Institute. It was a rich exchange about leadership, trust, and what it means to release control. A significant part of my leadership journey has been learning to let go, to trust my teams, to recognize their innate capacity for excellence, and to shift from directing outcomes to nurturing conditions. During our conversation, we explored an image that has stayed with me: leadership as gardening. Imagine tending to an orange tree. You don’t teach it how to bear fruit; it already knows. Your role is to ensure fertile soil, steady sunlight, and the right nutrients. When those are in place, the tree will, inevitably, give oranges. And yet, as leaders, how often do we hover anxiously around that tree, checking every leaf, adjusting every branch, as if our interference could accelerate nature’s rhythm? We know it’s counterproductive, but still, we cling to control. In doing so, we stifle the very unfoldment  we claim to want. The Struggle to Let Go This tension between control and unfoldment isn’t limited to leadership. It runs deep in our systems, even in education. Kenya’s shift from the teacher-centered 8-4-4 curriculum to the learner-centered CBC (Competency-Based Curriculum) is a powerful case in point. On paper, CBC celebrates learner agency and curiosity. In practice, many teachers, long conditioned to command authority, find it hard to relinquish control. The result is a system designed for freedom and agency, still operating on control. That dissonance must be exhausting for both teacher and learner. I’ve lived that tension too. When I moved from operations lead to executive director a year and a half ago, I had to unlearn the comfort of detail and certainty. Strategy demanded a new posture, to guide without gripping . I often caught myself inspecting the team’s “oranges,” comparing them to the ones I would have grown. Thankfully, our team culture, and wise counsel from mentors and coaches, helped me see that leadership wasn’t about replication, it was about trust. Why We Cling to Control As I reflect on what pulls us toward control rather than unfoldment, four themes stand out: 1. The past.  Many of us grew up in cultures where authority equaled obedience. Teachers, parents, and leaders were infallible; questioning was rebellion. That imprint runs deep. Leading through unfoldment requires intentional unlearning , to guide rather than dominate, to invite rather than instruct. 2. The pace of trust.  Everything moves at the speed of trust. When I feel the urge to control, I now pause and ask: Do I trust my team to deliver?  If not, how can I express my concern in a way that supports rather than constrains? More often than not, the issue isn’t capability, it’s my own anxiety. Trust becomes the lens that reveals what’s really going on. 3. Exhaustion.  Hustle culture glorifies control. When I’m tired, I lose patience, and unfoldment feels too slow. But rest is not indulgence, it’s infrastructure. Without it, I default to micromanagement. Leading through unfoldment requires energy, curiosity, and presence, all impossible without rest. 4. The illusion of power.  Control gives a false sense of strength. Real power, I’ve learned, is not the ability to direct every move but to create an ecosystem where others thrive even in your absence.  Control looks powerful; unfoldment is  powerful. Trust as the Soil for Organizational Unfoldment Unfoldment doesn’t just apply to individuals or teams; it applies to organizations, too. Yet so many local organizations never get the chance to truly unfold because the systems meant to support them are built on control, not trust. Too often, funding comes with tight restrictions, short timelines, and rigid deliverables that leave no room for reflection or adaptation. This kind of support may produce activity, but rarely growth. It’s like asking an orange tree to bear fruit while keeping it in a pot too small for its roots. For organizations to flourish, they need what many funders still hesitate to offer: multi-year, unrestricted funding.  This kind of trust-based support gives teams the freedom to experiment, learn, and course-correct, to respond to reality, not to a proposal written 18 months ago. It acknowledges that those closest to the work often understand best how to nurture it. When organizations are trusted in this way, they can breathe. They can pause when needed, shed what no longer serves, and rebuild from a place of alignment and purpose. Seasons of contraction and renewal produce deeper, more grounded growth, programs that are smaller in scale but richer in substance, and innovations that let teachers focus on learners rather than compliance. These milestones aren’t merely organizational; they are profoundly human. They represent educators reclaiming hope, learners rediscovering joy, and teams learning to trust their own unfolding. Just as organizations need trust and space to grow, so too do the people within them, leaders, teams, and communities alike, and the same principles that allow an orange tree or a hickory to bear fruit apply to those we guide: create the right conditions, then step back and let unfoldment take its course. The Courage to Let Things Grow Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “If you can’t be a pine at the top of the hill, be a shrub in the valley. But be the best little shrub on the side of the hill.”  Leadership, at its best, is the art of tending, nurturing both the pine and the shrub, creating conditions for each to unfold into its fullest expression. So I keep returning to this question:  Am I leading for control, or am I leading for unfoldment? Every time I choose trust over tension, rest over rigidity, and patience over panic, I remember: the orange tree already knows how to give oranges. My task is to tend the soil, and then, to let it grow. - Muthoni Gakwa - Executive Director, Metis The Metis team during a partner visit

Credit: GPE/Stephan Bachenheimer I've been thinking deeply about the relationship between aid and the communities we serve. Is the "impact industry" sustained, in part, by the very actors intervening in it? Do our approaches keep the communities we serve in the same poverty cycles we are trying to break? The question feels particularly urgent now, as we face significant shifts in the global aid landscape. With USAID's crisis and the Swiss Government's withdrawal of international education assistance, many organizations are struggling. Projects are at a standstill, people are losing jobs, and uncertainty looms large. Yet within this crisis, I see an opportunity to reimagine how aid works in Africa. Africa needs to stand on her own feet. The role of aid must be to support development, not to perpetuate dependency. While there are still many glaring gaps in development and poverty remains a great challenge, we need to confront the uncomfortable truth about how aid sometimes perpetuates cycles of poverty. For aid to be truly dignifying, it must drive agency, human dignity, and ultimately, independence. When we explored this idea with friends, we realized something striking: we often intervene without expecting reciprocity from the communities we support. The situations we face—gender-based violence, hunger, kids not attending school—are often so dire that it seems unreasonable to ask communities to contribute. But in giving aid without expecting anything in return, are we unintentionally telling our beneficiaries they have nothing to offer? The funding landscape itself reveals a fascinating dynamic. Someone recently put it this way: imagine a funder being the most beautiful, richest, and kindest high school student that all peers want to date. How overwhelming—and how difficult it is to make meaningful connections when everyone is pursuing you! On the flip side, as an organization supporting grassroots leaders, we know firsthand how challenging it is for these leaders to raise resources. Only about 1% of global funding goes to locally led organizations, and only about 8% of NGOs operate at the $1M and above budget level. At Metis, we're trying to approach this differently. While we subsidize our program by up to 93%, we ask for a 7% contribution from participants. This fee only covers a small part of the costs, but it says something crucial: "You have something to contribute." More than money, it's about dignity. We also require leaders to contribute in other ways, like supporting other education leaders in our ecosystem or helping with recruitment efforts. We're seeing the power of this approach. Our community has supported over 300 educators, with a collaboration rate of over 70% from self-reported impact. When leaders contribute and collaborate, they build something more sustainable than what any external funding could provide. Consider what's happening in Kibera, where SHOFCO requires parents to contribute their time to ensure quality education for their children. Parents retain their dignity by participating in activities like cleaning or cooking, knowing they have something valuable to offer. This starkly contrasts the donor dependency we often see, where parents expect funders to fully support their children's education and take offense when asked to contribute in any way. There's a powerful lesson here from an unexpected place: Kenya's tourism industry. When COVID-19 hit and international tourism collapsed, the industry discovered an untapped resource – local tourists. This shift not only helped the industry survive but led it to thrive in unexpected ways. What if we applied this same thinking to development? What if we dug deeper into our local resources and capabilities? As Thomas Merton said, "There is in all things a hidden wholeness." When receiving aid, showing up with generosity—sharing insights, advice, or grassroots wisdom—goes a long way in building reciprocity. Similarly, givers must honor the dignity of recipients through curiosity, genuine partnership, and an active invitation to contribute. A friend, Trizah Gakwa, put it perfectly: "Those that are giving must ask themselves, 'How do we give so that at some point we will no longer be needed' while those receiving must ask, 'how do we contribute and utilize what's given so that at some point we will no longer need it'" As the aid landscape evolves, we have an opportunity to pioneer more dignified, sustainable approaches to development. True partnership means recognizing and nurturing the capacity within our communities, moving beyond traditional donor-recipient relationships to build models that promote agency, dignity, and ultimately, independence. The current crisis in aid funding isn't just a challenge to overcome—it's an invitation to reimagine how we support development across Africa. By embracing new approaches to sustainability, fostering meaningful collaboration, and building genuine reciprocity with communities, we can transform this moment of crisis into a catalyst for lasting change. As we rethink sustainability, we must involve the communities we serve in their own progress. Capacity development and financial aid must go hand in hand; providing aid without nurturing self-leadership potential is inadequate. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. How do you think we can build more dignifying approaches to development? How can we ensure that aid becomes a bridge to self-reliance rather than a crutch that fosters dependence? With Love, Muthoni Gakwa Executive Director, Metis

In Kenya, 19.1 million people  live below the poverty line, with urban poverty rates hitting in informal settlements such as Kibera, Africa’s largest slum. Approximately 200,000  people call Kibera home, with thousands of children living in households earning less than KES 5,000 to 10,000 per month. These children face significant challenges in accessing quality education, which remains their primary pathway out of poverty. Yet, the barriers to achieving this are immense, from overcrowded classrooms to underqualified and underpaid teachers, to the lack of parental engagement. Understanding and addressing these barriers is central to unlocking real change—not only in Kibera but in marginalized urban communities worldwide. Education remains one of the most powerful tools for improving the socioeconomic trajectory of families in Kibera. However, the education system in Kenya has shifted from a community-driven approach, where parents and the broader society played an active role, to a more formalized system where classrooms and teachers are viewed as the sole providers of knowledge. At Metis, we recognize the critical importance of restoring this shared responsibility. To that end, we recently brought together local education leaders—educators, NGO heads, and community organizers—working in Kibera. Our objective was to discuss the challenges they face and explore collective solutions. These conversations were dynamic. By fostering collaboration and exchanging ideas, these leaders are not only identifying practical, actionable pathways to improving education in Kibera but also changing the narrative for their communities. Here are some of the key insights from this meeting: Challenges Faced by Educators One of the central issues is the quality and capacity of teachers in low-income areas like Kibera. While pay for teachers in public schools is very standardized, these schools can only uptake some of the kids in Kibera. Currently, Olympic Primary School  has over 5000 students, with each class holding up to 100 learners. To mitigate this, local leaders have come in to build private and community schools. Many children in Kibera attend low-cost private schools, often run by local leaders or community groups. However, these schools are largely unregulated, and teachers are poorly compensated—sometimes earning as little as KES 5,000 a month. The disparities between teachers in different schools—some earning up to KES 60,000—create vast differences in motivation and quality of education delivered. Despite the introduction of the Competency-Based Curriculum (CBC) in Kenya, many teachers in Kibera still lack the qualifications and professional development required to implement it effectively. Many of these teachers are high school graduates who scored low grades in their KCPE exams and have no training in how to teach. With a national and global teacher shortage, slums are often more marginalized in the number and quality of teachers they get. This highlights the need for targeted interventions to build teacher capacity. Professional development programs, tailored to the unique challenges teachers face in urban informal settlements, are crucial. These programs should focus on pedagogical skills, classroom management, and student engagement, with additional support from structured mentorship and coaching provided by school leaders. Strengthening low-fee-paying schools, which serve a significant portion of Kibera’s children, is vital to improving access to quality education. One key strategy is offering professional development during school holidays, addressing specific gaps identified through a participatory process involving teachers. By empowering teachers with the right skills, schools can foster a more effective learning environment. In addition to enhancing teacher capacity, school leadership—headteachers and deputies—must be equipped to offer ongoing support. Their involvement in structured mentorship ensures that teachers can apply newly acquired skills effectively. Collaborating with government bodies to ensure that schools meet policy standards is equally important. This can only be achieved through stronger partnerships and a mindset shift that values the contributions of low-cost schools to the broader education system. Moreover, teachers in these settings often assume roles beyond the classroom—acting as caregivers and counselors—due to limited parental involvement. This exacerbates the pressures on educators and further underscores the need for greater parental engagement in children's education. Addressing this issue will not only relieve teachers but also create a more holistic support system for learners. Parental Engagement: The Missing Link Over the years, a major shift in parental involvement has taken place. Historically, parents, elders, and community members were deeply involved in children’s education outside the classroom—engaging them through storytelling, sharing knowledge, and nurturing moral and social development. Today, however, many parents in Kibera, overwhelmed by the demands of survival, have transferred their educational responsibilities entirely to schools. This leaves teachers not only responsible for academic instruction but also for addressing the emotional and social needs of their students. Research consistently shows that parental engagement plays a pivotal role in children’s academic success. For example, a recent study by USAWA found that children whose mothers have tertiary education are 68% more likely to excel in English and 47% more likely in numeracy than children whose mothers have only primary education. In Kibera, however, many households are led by single parents or guardians with limited education and resources. Despite these challenges, these parents can still play a valuable role in their children’s education if given the right support. Without such engagement, children miss the reinforcement of learning at home, and teachers are left to shoulder the entire responsibility. To address this, community-based programs are essential to raise awareness among parents about the significance of their involvement and to equip them with practical tools to support their children’s education. Initiatives such as workshops, home-school collaborations, and community-led activities can foster a culture of learning that extends beyond the classroom. Parental engagement is also crucial in addressing deeper issues like child abuse and fostering learner well-being. With 56% of children in Kibera exposed to abuse and 50% of young adults  in Kenya reporting some form of abuse, the home becomes a critical space for intervention. Most cases of abuse occur at home, making it essential to educate parents on child protection and to actively involve them in their children’s holistic development. By empowering parents through community programs and workshops focused on safeguarding practices, they can create safer, more nurturing environments. This engagement will not only prevent abuse but also enhance collaboration between schools and families to address trauma and promote student well-being. Prioritizing parental involvement allows us to move from reacting to abuse to preventing it, ensuring every child has a safe, supportive environment to learn and grow. Freely In Hope  works actively in slums in Kenya to support schools and caregivers with child protection. Collaborating for Systemic Change Kibera has over 500  NGOs operating across various sectors, but the oversaturation of organizations, often working in silos, limits systemic change. The fragmentation of efforts leads to duplication rather than a unified approach to solving education challenges. To achieve meaningful, long-term impact, stakeholders must come together under a shared vision. NGOs, community leaders, and government agencies should align their efforts, pool resources, and leverage each other’s strengths to create cohesive and sustainable solutions. An example of successful collaboration is Dignitas, an education development organization that empowers schools in Nairobi’s informal settlements through leadership training and infrastructure support. They partner with different schools and organizations and drive a collective approach to their impact. This kind of partnership can play a vital role in bolstering local schools, but we must go further—encouraging local innovation, fostering resourcefulness, and reducing dependency on external aid. Resources vs. Resourcefulness Another significant barrier to quality education in Kibera is the lack of resources. Schools in low-income areas often lack basic supplies, and many households face food insecurity, which means that education sometimes takes a back seat to survival needs. Yet, true transformation will not come from relying on external donations alone. Communities must be empowered to solve their challenges creatively using the resources they have. For instance, schools could repurpose available spaces to create gardens, providing food for school meals and reducing the cost of education for families. This not only addresses an immediate need but also fosters self-sufficiency and resilience within the community. Partnerships with organizations that can provide essential supplies or training are still important, but local leaders must drive the solutions for sustainable change. The challenges facing education in Kibera are complex and multifaceted, but they are not insurmountable. Through collective action, innovative solutions, and a relentless focus on equity, we can transform education for children in informal settlements. The future of Kibera’s children should not be determined by the income bracket they were born into. Every child deserves access to quality education that equips them with the tools to break the cycle of poverty and build a better future. At Metis, we remain committed to driving this change, empowering local leaders, and fostering collaboration to create a brighter future for all. Contributed by: Mary Asiko, Geoffrey Ooko, Frederick Magige (Becky School), Francis Odhiambo (Chezacheza Dance Foundation), Duncan Masiru (Little Rock ECD), June Omune (Dignitas), Lydia Matioli (Freely in Hope), Victor Odhiambo (Garden Of Hope), Keith Obiero, and Muthoni Gakwa, Naftaly Muroki, Alvin Kiiru (Metis Collective). Becky School:   Mary Asiko  (Founder), Geoffrey Ooko (Teacher) and Frederick Magige (Teacher). Chezacheza Dance Foundation :  Francis Odhiambo  (Founder). Little Rock Inclusive ECD Centre : Dan Masiru  (Teacher). Dignitas Project:  June Omune  (Development Director). Freely in Hope Kenya:   Lydia Matioli  (Program & Partnerships Director). Garden of Hope : Victor Odhiambo  (Founder). Carolina for Kibera (CFK Africa) :Keith Obiero (Program Lead, Youth Leadership & Education). Metis Collective : Muthoni Gakwa  (Executive Director), Naftaly Muroki  (Senior Community & Advocacy Manager) and  Alvin Kiiru  (Alumni Consultant).

Written by Muthoni Gakwa — Executive Director, Metis Teachers and innovators at the Metis Teacher Conference on EdTech, August 22, 2024 This blog post represents the voices of 40 teachers from across Kenya—each representing a diverse range of perspectives, from rural areas with limited internet access to urban slums and well-resourced schools. Our goal was clear: to explore how to integrate both low-tech and high-tech interventions into classrooms while keeping the focus on meaningful learning outcomes. In our gathering, we didn’t just discuss tools and technologies. We delved into the broader implications of tech in education, exploring how it can empower teachers, foster inclusion, and ultimately, transform students' lives. Here’s what we learned, organized around key thematic areas. 1. Teacher Empowerment and Training Empowering teachers is foundational to the successful integration of technology in education. Continuous support and professional development ensure that teachers can confidently use tech to enhance learning outcomes, making it a seamless part of their teaching practice. Many educators arrived feeling unsure about their ability to integrate technology into their teaching. Through collaborative learning and hands-on training, they left the session with newfound confidence. This empowerment is not a one-time event—it requires continuous professional learning, equipping teachers to handle tech effectively and adapt to new tools as they emerge. 2. Inclusion and Accessibility Developing inclusive tech solutions is essential. These solutions must cater to students with different abilities and backgrounds, ensuring that technology bridges gaps and promotes equity in education rather than exacerbating existing disparities. One of the most pressing challenges discussed was ensuring that technology in education is inclusive and accessible to all students, regardless of their background or abilities. Whether from underserved rural areas or well-resourced urban schools, the teachers emphasized the need for tech solutions that cater to varying levels of access and special needs. 3. Policy and Governance Aligning educational policies with technological advancements creates a sustainable environment for tech integration. Clear governance and strong leadership are key to driving these changes and ensuring that technology enhances the curriculum and pedagogy. For technology to be effectively integrated into education, alignment with educational policies and governance structures is crucial. Our discussions highlighted the need for policies that support tech integration and curriculum harmonization. Leadership at all levels must understand and advocate for these changes to create a supportive environment for educators. 4. Pedagogy and Curriculum Development Technology should complement, not overshadow, pedagogy. It’s vital to ensure that digital content is aligned with educational goals and enhances the learning process, making education more relevant and engaging for students. Technology should not be an end in itself; it must support and enhance sound pedagogical practices. We explored how to digitize content in a way that remains relevant and accessible, ensuring that technology serves as a tool to enhance, not replace, effective teaching methods. 5. Infrastructure and Technology Integration A strong infrastructure—comprising devices, connectivity, and safety measures—is essential for successful tech integration. Schools must embrace both high-tech and low-tech solutions, ensuring that all students benefit from technological advancements. The success of tech in education depends heavily on infrastructure—access to devices, connectivity, and safe learning environments. The teachers explored both low-tech and high-tech solutions, recognizing that while some schools may have advanced resources, others may rely on simpler tools. Safety and privacy were also significant concerns, with a focus on protecting students in a digital world. 6. Parental and Community Engagement Parental and community engagement is vital for the successful integration of technology in education. Strong partnerships and active involvement ensure that students receive the support they need both at school and at home, making the learning experience more holistic and impactful. The integration of technology in education is most successful when parents and the broader community are actively involved. Teachers emphasized the importance of parental empowerment and community partnerships in supporting educational technology. Engaging parents helps bridge the gap between school and home, ensuring that learning continues outside the classroom. 7. Collaboration and Networking Collaboration and trust are crucial for the successful integration of technology in education. By sharing resources and experiences, educators can develop more effective strategies and solutions that benefit all learners.Collaboration emerged as a critical factor in successfully integrating technology. The gathering provided a platform for teachers to network, share experiences, and learn from one another. This spirit of collaboration is essential for driving innovation and ensuring that best practices are shared and adopted widely. 8. Safety and Privacy Safety and privacy must be prioritized in the integration of educational technology. Implementing strong protocols and ensuring safe environments for students is essential for fostering trust and enabling effective learning. As technology becomes more prevalent in education, ensuring the safety and privacy of students is paramount. Discussions covered both online and offline safety, emphasizing the need for robust protocols to protect students while they engage with digital tools. Conclusion The lessons learned from this gathering highlight the importance of a holistic approach to integrating technology in education. At Metis, we are committed to ensuring that technology is a means to an end—not the end itself. By focusing on empowering teachers, fostering inclusion, aligning policies, integrating technology with pedagogy, building strong infrastructure, engaging parents and communities, fostering collaboration, and prioritizing safety, we can create an educational environment where every learner thrives. As we look to the future, these lessons will guide our efforts to innovate and improve education in Kenya and beyond.

Written by Mercy Wambui — Metis Fellow Mercy Wambui presenting videos on innovative climate change solutions to learners in Siaya. The first World Environment Day was celebrated on 5th June, 1973 with the theme "One Earth" —  a noble celebration with a most appropriate theme. This is our only home, and if we do not care for it, it will not sustain us. For fifty years, we have celebrated this day each year and as I wake up today, I ask myself, what more can we do for our home? In the past few years, we have experienced such harsh weather, from extended droughts to flooding. What better theme to suit this 51st World Environment Day than "Land Restoration, Desertification, and Drought Resilience," remembering that we only have one earth — our only home. Land restoration is critical in combating the severe impacts of desertification and drought. By restoring degraded lands, we can improve biodiversity, enhance water retention, and increase the resilience of ecosystems and communities. Desertification, often caused by human activities and climate change, threatens the livelihoods of millions, making it essential to adopt sustainable land management practices. Building drought resilience not only mitigates the adverse effects of climate change but also ensures food security and sustainable development for future generations. At  Angaza Africa, we understand the urgency of these environmental challenges. Founded in 2012 as a Self-Awareness program to prepare teenagers and youth for life and career success, Angaza has evolved significantly. After 2020, we expanded our focus to include environmental awareness, realising the urgent need to involve children in the environment conversation and our collective responsibility to keep our home — the earth, clean and balanced for all living beings. Our value-based programs integrate environmental awareness with key life skills in self-awareness. As students plant and grow kitchen gardens, they learn the value of work ethics, responsibility, persistence, and grit. They also learn how to grow healthy organic food, promote biodiversity, and maintain ecological balance, supporting all life forms, from soil organisms to pollinators like bees. At Gatina Primary School, learners were involved in a three-month process of planting and growing a vegetable garden. From garden preparations to plantings and caring for the vegetables, the students were actively engaged. Gatina Primary School learners engaging in garden preparation By the end of the term, the garden was flourishing, and they could harvest fresh produce. This hands-on experience not only instilled in them the value of hard work, responsibility, and perseverance but also taught them crucial lessons about sustainable food production and the importance of biodiversity. The vegetable garden at Gatina Primary School Angaza Africa has always prided itself on ensuring that every learning activity is fun, learner-led, thought-provoking, and enhances creativity and imagination. We believe that everyone is full of potential; we just need to discover, nurture, and utilise it to our highest purpose. As an educator by passion and by choice, I believe that teachers make history and create the future every day. Therefore, educators are a crucial part of this journey. My life purpose is to empower educators with the resources, knowledge, and skills to nurture and groom the learners they interact with daily. Supporting educators is essential because, in turn, they support and inspire their learners. By providing educators with the resources and training they need, we ensure they can effectively impart knowledge and foster environmental stewardship among the learners. We hope to partner with more organisations as implementing partners in climate education and share our impactful collaboration stories. I also serve as the Africa Education Liaison for Climate Advocates Voces Unidas (CAVU), providing a free international STEAM curriculum, Climate Innovation Challenge, designed to help learners create climate change innovative solutions while enhancing learners' storytelling and video-making skills. As we celebrate World Environment Day today, aiming to raise awareness about the environmental problems faced by our planet and promote sustainable practices, let us not leave any learner behind. Let us teach our children why they need to care for the environment. Let us show them alternatives to single-use plastic by training them to use recyclable water bottles, demonstrate waste segregation, plant trees and engage them in other activities that promote environmental conservation. We can restore our earth and home; we only need to start from our home, our classroom, our office, and our neighbourhood. As we mark this significant day, let us recommit to restoring our lands and strengthening our resilience against the growing challenges of desertification and drought. Learn more about our work here.

When 6-year-old Louie is asked what his mother does, he says, “ My mother started an organization that really cares about children and young people. They care about them so much, that they support them in the things they love doing.” Through the eyes of Louie, one can step back and really see the “Big Picture”. Louie's mother, Carol Owala, Metis Cohort 6 fellow and a long-time educator founded Big Picture Learning Kenya in 2018. Having grown up in Kibera, the biggest slum in Africa, she witnessed first-hand how learners in marginalized communities struggled with poverty, a lack of resources, and zero empowerment. “ The Kenyan education system is so exam-oriented. When you are a student in a community high school, chances are that you have already failed in your KCPE. You are constantly reminded that you are a failure, and that affects your self-esteem. You walk around knowing that you are a failure,” she relates. Carol’s mission is to change that narrative for all learners affected in this way. She explains, “At Big Picture Learning, we help learners believe that authentic learning comes from the pedagogy of confidence”. Simply put, the pedagogy of confidence is focused on recognizing and amplifying the strengths of underserved students. By helping them build confidence and self-efficacy, they begin to see themselves as agents of change within their own communities. Take Vyetty for example, he comes from a very humble background and has for the longest time, been struggling with his identity as a young person. He lied about himself to his peers, got expelled from two schools, and was suspended a few too many times as well. Big Picture Learning met Vyetty while he was in his last high school, and at that time, he didn’t believe he was going to make it to his KCSE. All this was happening at the peak of Covid 19, he had suffered some losses and was struggling with his overall mental health. Vyetty was then enrolled in the Big Picture Learning program where he took on a mental health project. During this process, he was able to identify fellow youth, who also suffered from mental health challenges. He found his gusto. He came up with a proposal, powered through research, interviewed young people within his community, and with the goal of helping them, developed a project based on understanding mental health, and how young ones would find support for it. A manual was created, and he also partnered with an organization that had previously trained him on website development, to develop a website that will help young people in marginalized communities access mental health support. He is currently exploring the possibility of using animal therapy. Through the agency facilitated by Big Picture Learning Kenya, Vyetty is now a solid anchor in his community to many of his peers. He knows that he has what it takes to change things for himself and for his community and is determined to be one of the fine details that creates life’s big picture. Vyetty will be featured on our youth panel at ReimaginED 2022. Don't miss out on the opportunity to hear from him and other learners as they discuss “Our dream for Kenya!" BPLK Impact Since 2018, with the support of Metis, Girl Rising and other committed partners, BPLK has reached 213 teachers and school leaders from 6 schools, which is expected to increase the quality of education for 3704 students. BPLK staff provided 141 hours of training, mentoring and ongoing feedback sessions and celebrated the graduation of 12 youths from its flagship students’ Leadership Academy(LA) program. The organization also sponsored 5 students (3 girls & 2 boys), to attend colleges and universities. In addition, BPLK has continued to refine its model by launching internal innovations including the compilation of the completion of a student leadership pilot program (Kuna Nuru) to inform its work and impact the broader education field.

"If not now then now now" This was one of the inspiring quotes that came up during the Community innovations for gender equity event that took place on the 29th of September 2022. This quote speaks deeply about the urgency to change the reality we currently live in. There are huge gaps in gender equality. The main goal for this event was to sensitize the participants on these gaps, and the community-based innovations that have been set up to bridge them. Girl Rising. The first to speak was Richa Hingorani the global program manager of Girl Rising. She first addressed some of the gaps we are currently facing post the COVID-19 pandemic which are: According to the global gender gap index, 2022 gender parity is not recovering. During the pandemic's peak, more than 11 million girls were at risk of never going back to school, with some studies showing this number as high as 20 million. More and more women and girls managed caregiving responsibilities, had reduced access to sexual and reproductive health rights, and had poorer ability/skillset to navigate challenges and adversities. What is their resolve? To “put girls at the centre and harness stories as the change agent” and: Use their story-based curriculum to help adolescents build voice, agency, and confidence. Use their story-based training, workshops and collaborations with educators to build more inclusive, equitable, aspirational learning environments. Create a community Environment and use their stories to build empathy and understanding, empowering parents and community members to be strong advocates for girls' education. Create a structural environment by collaborating with governments and the support of local organizations to advance local efforts to educate and empower girls. Create a cultural environment by running media campaigns that use these stories to raise awareness with the broad public and change harmful social norms. Girl Rising's mission is to use the power of storytelling to change the way the world values girls, their education and opportunities by: Creating films, media content and educational resources that tell girls' stories and how educating girls' ripple effects transform families, communities and entire nations. Collaborating with organizations around the world to support locally-led change that accelerates and strengthens quality education and greater opportunity for girls. Activating change by inspiring individuals, from parents to presidents, to support action for girls' education. Their work builds voice, agency and confidence in girls so that they can persist in their education; fosters a more inclusive learning environment that leads to improved education outcomes for girls, and changes attitudes and social norms. Nairobi Metropolitan Service Next Brenda Imali Psychosocial support, gender mainstreaming in government at Nairobi Metropolitan Service spoke about “Gender mainstreaming in government”. Gender mainstreaming is a strategy for developing policies, legislation, programs, projects, society and community's development plans from a gender equality perspective to benefit both women and men. It may also be defined as the process of ensuring that gender is taken into account in all policies, processes and practices. She addressed three levels of Gender mainstreaming: At the legislation, policies, and strategies level At the organization/department level At the household/family level She highlighted the approaches by the government to gender mainstreaming: The NMS has come up with a youth-friendly service that deals with youth issues of both genders. They make special arrangements in service delivery that will address the unique needs of either gender They create employment for both genders in the youth-friendly centres. They provide training for healthcare workers and professionals on dealing with both genders. Another approach she highlighted was engaging stakeholders in gender mainstreaming. She explained that mainstreaming gender requires service providers in government agencies to : Assist young people in correctly understanding the true meaning and differentiating Gender, sex, gender roles and norms. Using adopting a supportive behaviour and attitude towards gender sensitivity, responsiveness, equity, and equality and easily identifying gender needs. Integrate gender issues into government facilities. Yazua Africa Our third speaker was Eric Mungai Founder and CEO, of Yazua Africa who addressed their approach to “Raising boys for leadership”. He posed this thought-provoking question : “How might we support young men to strengthen their leadership and entrepreneurial potential while innovating solutions for their communities?” Their approach provides a viable answer to this question. They create spaces where young men can learn, be challenged, and grow in their leaders! How do they do this? By using experiential activities and processes like Outdoor challenges Factory/ industry visits Group work Mentorship/coaching sessions by diverse mentors What is the impact of their work? Their first cohort has produced leaders in different fields: Accountants, Political, leaders, Police Officers, Footballers, Teachers, Talent Managers, Engineers, Doctors, Artists, Mechanics, Financial Investment Advisers, HR Directors and Acclaimed chefs. Any society that thrives must have a strong social development sector that caters to the well-being of its youth. Kenya's youth development agenda must be more than school enrolment; it must cater to the socio-eco development of young males especially. He concludes with this powerful message: “We are faced with a silent pandemic that continues to ravage our young bo: churn out angry, aimless, and dangerous boy. Our communities must have spaces for the positive development of boys. If we don’t do something for the boy child, we will have done NOTHING for the girl child; and NO ONE WILL BE SAFE.” The Malkia Initiative Our concluding speaker was Jedidiah Lemaron Founder and Executive Director, of The Malkia Initiative who had this big-picture question: “What if Maasai girls had power over their bodies and their futures?” The mission at Malkia Initiative is to contribute towards enhancing equity in education by reducing barriers to transition and increasing engagement and well-being of adolescent girls and youth through: Menstrual health and hygiene management Anti-FGM and child marriage campaigns AYSRHR information and education Referrals for SRHR counselling and services Advocacy for SRHR education reforms and inclusion Advocacy for meaningful youth participation What impact have they made so far? Over the past 6 years, they have reached and supported over 20,00 girls across the county and beyond with Menstrual products and education. Trained over 100 MHM ToTs in the county. Supported and carried Campaigns against Harmful Practices. Referred over 500 youths to healthcare facilities for SRHR services through social media. EAC reproductive health bill. East and Southern African Ministerial commitment to CSE Bill and SRHR(2021) to safeguard adolescents and Young people’s health and Future. MYEP training. Their goals for the future are: To develop a mentorship manual for Pastoral communities. To plant more Pad Banks across Kajiado Education scholarship fund for adolescent girls. Commission the first social enterprise for girls and women. The event proved to be a success as many in attendance expressed that they had learnt a lot more about current gaps and were inspired by the impact shared by the organizations that took part in presenting. We look forward to more conversations and innovations about gender equity that will be showcased at our ReimagiED event in December!

Let’s take a short journey together through the eyes and shoes of Naserian, a 9-year-old girl with a future as wide as the earth ahead of her. Naserian is in grade 2, eager to learn, pass her exams and hopes to become a doctor. Unfortunately, this may only remain a dream for Naserian. She is among the majority of Maasai women in Kenya destined to live a life of poverty and cultural oppression. Even with free primary school education in Kenya, only 48 per cent of Maasai girls enrol, and only 10 per cent of these make it to secondary school. By the time Naserian is 13, she might be circumcised and soon afterwards married off to a man chosen by her father in exchange for cattle and cash. Her world of possibility has sadly been reduced to the confines of her culture. But, What if Maasai girls like Naserian had power over their bodies and their future? What if Boys and Girls had equal opportunities in Education? Can we build a national movement of girls' clubs that leverage storytelling to ensure girls have the community and safe spaces they need to thrive? These are a few bold questions that our fellows dared to ask. Just like Naserian, Jedidah Lemaron witnessed first-hand the inequality and gaps in her community from lack of basic infrastructure to gender discrimination against women and girls. As a result, she founded The Malkia Initiative in 2015 to bridge the gap. Judy Munene developed a passion for supporting girls’ education which was birthed by an unfortunate incident when she was in class seven (7). A group of girls dropped out of her class because they felt too big to learn with the small girl that she was. They became teenage mothers soon after and engaged in casual labour to cater for their children. Lillian Wamuyu is passionate about community development with over 15 years of experience in community-based programmes. Her vision is to build a transformative and integrative social enterprise, especially for the benefit of marginalized families. Metis had facilitated the common ground in which these grassroots leaders stand and has made it possible for collective conversations and impactful collaborations to take place to make it possible for girls like Naserian to have a different outcome. Since 2018, Metis has enabled 4 million learners like Naserian, across Kenya to access quality education by equipping education leaders like Jedidah, Judy and Lilian to create contextualized innovations for their communities. Our knowledge-sharing opportunities have enabled leaders to problem-solve, learn, and collaborate for collective impact. You too can be part of this. ReimaginED our annual learning summit, will take place on the 9th of December 2022. We have the privilege of bringing together changemakers to reimagine education in Kenya. This event provides a platform for innovators to showcase their work while showing #OurDreamForKenya. We aim to bring to life the possibility of “Accelerating competency-based learning” by taking a journey through the “What is” “What if” and, “What now” in education. This journey is a step toward our vision of A world where leaders and learners thrive. Will you be part of it?

What skills and mindsets do Kenyan learners need to thrive in the 21st century–and who gets to answer this question? Over the past 10 weeks, our team has been hard at work exploring these questions. At Metis, our focus to date has been on Fellows and the growth of their leadership and ventures. We deeply believe that collective leadership is an essential lever for improving learning outcomes for students. But what are the outcomes towards which we collectively strive? What is our shared vision for education? Who gets to decide? Our Collective enjoyed the process of co-creating this vision with youth, caregivers, policymakers, and practitioners, situating it within our local context, and thinking about how we can each orient our efforts towards shared outcomes. Through a design-thinking inspired approach and conversations with ~120 people across the education ecosystem, from educators to learners to parents to community members to funders to partners, Metis has co-created a vision for these requisite skills and mindsets that will serve as our North Star, orienting our work and all we do. These internal skills and mindsets are supplemented by external factors that have been flagged as critical to enabling the inculcation and strengthening of these skills and mindsets. How did we do it? We created outlines for workshops and conversations designed to source large amounts of raw data. We deliberately designed questions to be creative and open-ended, to optimise for accuracy in the stories we heard. An example of this was asking participants to draw pictures before and after they saw a positive change in a learner. When conducting these workshops and conversations, we aimed to solve for the diversity of participants, which took us to locations around Kenya like Kibera, Magadi, and Mombasa, as well as to virtual rooms with leading education thinkers relevant to Metis. We designed these conversations to be inclusive of all voices who’re affected by education because we strongly believe that learners’ and caregivers’ input is just as important as that of education experts. Then came codifying this output. We typed up all the raw output that we solicited from the first stage and analysed each piece of text critically. For each distinct piece of text, we identified as many themes as we possibly could, distinguishing between internal (e.g., confidence, problem-solving, community-centred) and external (e.g., safe space, access to resources) themes. This resulted in an output of ~35 internal themes and ~25 external themes. We next focused on grouping related themes. For each theme, we evaluated it against every other theme to ask ourselves if they were related. We also counted how many times each theme came up as a way to guide prioritisation. Using both these steps, we then identified five major internal themes (chosen by priority and encompassing related ‘smaller’ themes) and four major external themes. As we did this, we also ensured that our themes complemented frameworks such as Kenya’s CBC–think of the double helix of a DNA strand that’s connected. In parallel, as we worked to identify these themes, i.e., relevant skills and mindsets, we realised that communicating these would need to be supplemented with further storytelling from within our Collective. We, therefore, designed open-ended questions to allow Fellows and alumni to tell stories around these themes–how did their programmes and organisations work on these skills and mindsets, and what examples did they have of learners displaying these? Once our themes were finalised, we then set out to source these stories so that we could capture what our North Star was–not just defining the important skills and mindsets, but bolstering these definitions with stories sourced from our community. Stay tuned for future blog posts, where we share the themes we came up with and related stories from our Collective! Metis Team.

By Cherrelle Druppers and Francis Odhiambo For this guest blog, we are joined by Cherrelle Druppers and Francula Odhiambo from ChezaCheza Dance. We were lucky to have them join us at our retreat in May. ChezaCheza empowers youth in underprivileged neighborhoods through dance. Their classes incorporate life skills and capacity building in order to empower the children within the community and create a safe and creative space where children can express themselves. At ChezaCheza, we believe that dance and movement can be an excellent tool for learning so when Metis asked us to create an alternative learning experience for their Fellows, we used what we do best, dance! Usually, we work with young children and adolescent, providing life skills education through dance. We got nervous and thought hard about which approach to take with these adults. Should we change our curriculum? What music should we use? Can they even dance? We decided to shake it all off and do what we know: creating a safe, fun, and an interactive environment to dance. As the class began, we explained who we were and what we do. Immediately some people got excited, while doubt covered other faces. In some whispers you could hear, “But I can’t dance”. As the sweet beats of the Kenyan afro music started playing, you could see shoulders relax and bodies swinging side to side. “Oh, this is not so hard after all” you could hear one Fellow say. Familiarity with the music and moves started to grow, and people felt comfortable enough to express themselves through movement. We asked everybody how they felt and not to tell us, but show it in a move. Every move, by every fellow, showed a unique expression of how that person was feeling. You felt the doubt and reservations people initially had just melted away, and a feeling of complete joy started to arise. Even a short dance routine did not seem to scare anyone any more, and there was an absolute focus on getting the steps right as a group. A performance at the end created a sense of accomplishment and community, with fellows cheering and applauding for the moves of their peers. Most importantly, we did a debrief and asked the Fellows what they learned from this experience. They told us they felt safe, creative, and challenged. It showed that sitting behind a desk is not the only way to learn something. They saw that you could learn by doing, using body language to communicate, and lead by example. So, is there a difference between teaching adults and teaching children? Well, adults might have more reservations and constraints at learning something new than children. However, if you create a learning environment where people feel safe, encouraged, accepted, and that mistakes are part of the learning process, then you see that adults are just big children longing for the same feeling of safety and security. So if we as adults want this, why not create such environments for the children we work with every day?