Born in Lilongwe Central Hospital, Malawi, I was raised in a comfortable ex-pat lifestyle. But for as long as I can remember, I would often spend my afternoons “round the back”, at the staff quarters, with the Staff Kids. I would spend hours playing on the dusty dirt ground of their compound, games that would translate easily - “duck, duck, goose”, hide and seek. Or I’d take a football from home, which gave the kids endless enjoyment as it was a vast improvement from the hand made one they used (a dozen plastic bags wrapped on top of each other and secured with string). Our differences as young children didn’t seem to matter - it didn’t matter that I had a home with electricity, food, flushing toilets, a TV. It didn’t matter in that moment that they owned one pair of shoes and sometimes only had one meal a day. We would all play together so happily. These “play dates” lasted years, into my teens. 

I remember as a young teenager being curious about their schooling, so a group of the kids took me to see their government-run school, Mbabzi Primary School. It shocked me. Class sizes of 130, with one teacher. Children as old as 18 still in primary school because they keep failing the exams and continue to resit, in the hope that one day they will get a place in secondary school. Pages torn out of communal notebooks so that everyone can have at least a piece of paper to copy notes down. Lessons taking place outside on the dusty ground, with students getting sent home when it rained.

I had to do something. I was 16 years old when I raised enough funds to build the first new classroom at Mbabzi Primary School. I continued to fundraise (a lot of the time unsuccessfully) during my senior school, then through university. But I was always trying to do something to give back, however little. Whether it was collecting old stationery from home to donate to the school, or buying gifts for the children with my pocket money. 

Fast forward several more years, and, now with two young children, I paused my support for Malawi. It was only when my daughter first started school my passion and determination to do something was re-ignited. My children are so lucky; they will have a guaranteed high quality education from preschool all the way through university. They can join any after school clubs, go on school trips. On a much more basic level, they will never go hungry. Quite the opposite, they do not realise what a privilege it is to be able to refuse food, or pick and choose what and when they eat, or have multiple snacks during the day. At meal times when there are uneaten plates, I think back to the Staff Kids, who were often on one meal a day, even less in the hunger season.

In 2022, my charity, and purpose, became official. I registered “The Malawi Scholarship Programme” in the UK and then in Malawi. Since then, we have been changing lives through education. Education is so much more than learning — it provides opportunities, freedom and the chance to change a future. What we do at MSP is genuinely changing lives.

If you can relate to what I’ve shared, perhaps you’re a parent, or you too are aware of your own privilege. Perhaps you are grateful for the opportunities and life your education has given you and want to pass it on. Perhaps you are also from the Warm Heart of Africa and want to give back. If any of this resonates with you, then join me. I’d love to hear from you - alex@mspmalawi.org