The Night Before
As I write this stream-of-consciousness post, I am sitting in my office at the Neema International headquarters—a beautiful four-acre plot at the foothills of Mount Kilimanjaro. Outside, I hear the sound of 70 children and teenagers running around, listening to music, playing soccer, and laughing with their friends (even though it is time for them to go to bed). These are kids who call Neema home—children who either live here during the holidays when they aren’t at their various boarding schools, or students who were lucky enough to be the right age at the right time when Neema started its own school, Uru Community Pre and Primary School, and therefore attend this school and live here full time.
These are children who have nowhere else to go— some that I have known for nearly 15 years. As sad as it is to say, their parents or families don’t want them, and no one else can take them in—and even if they wanted to, many couldn’t afford to feed them, let alone educate and provide for them. These children have become my family. They are not only the reason I moved to Tanzania, but also the reason I am alive—as strange as it feels to say this, as I have a husband and a son whom I love so deeply.
Throughout people’s lives, the phrase “the night before” has meant many different things—but it always signifies that something big is about to happen. The beginning of something great. A major change.
Today, Neema’s pre and primary school began its new school year (schools in Tanzania run on a calendar-year schedule). We started this school ten years ago, and it has been incredible to watch the students and teachers grow, the facility flourish, and the families thrive. I could live solely off the joy and smiles I see inside these gates—the laughter, the learning, the hope, the challenges, the growth. Every bit of it is beautiful.
This year, our school looks extra special. We are now equipped with gorgeous donated furniture from the Shlenker School in Houston. Our students and teachers keep saying that their school feels “so fancy”—like an international school!
For those who don’t know our full story: while I have been sponsoring students to attend private schools in Tanzania since 2012, it wasn’t until 2016 that I was able to start my own school, Uru Community Pre and Primary School (UCPAPS). Our first graduating class completed primary school at the end of 2024. Unfortunately, quality secondary school options in this region are virtually non-existent, and too often corporal punishment returns as the norm. The nurturing, student-centered environment Neema works so hard to build is frequently undone. I was determined not to let that happen to our UCPAPS students—we had worked far too hard.
At this time last year, I was planning to purchase an already-established local secondary school so our 2024 UCPAPS graduates could remain under the Neema umbrella. But the school for sale didn’t fully align with our mission or values, and even the facility itself wasn’t what I envisioned for our kids. So on January 31, 2025, I made the decision to pursue what felt like a completely crazy plan: within 11 months, I would buy land, raise $500,000 USD, fully build and furnish an entire secondary school, hire staff, design uniforms, and be ready to open when the new school year began on January 13, 2026.
It has been one hell of a year. I don’t know if I’ve ever been so overwhelmed or exhausted in my life—but I am also so incredibly excited. Even though we are opening one day late, tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m., the 2024 and 2025 UCPAPS graduates will board a bus and head to our brand-new school, Uru Community Secondary School (UCSS), where they will become the inaugural students of this institution. The dream has become a reality, and I truly cannot believe our school will officially open tomorrow morning— I just got chills throughout my entire body as I typed that sentence.
I came to Moshi this past Thursday to stay in Uru with the kids for a few days to help prepare for the opening. Even though I am back to proper village life in terms of water, electricity, and relative luxuries, I haven’t been this happy in a while. THIS is what I fell in love with about Tanzania. The simplicity, the village, the people. It has somehow been some of the most stressful and relaxing weeks at the same time.
While the secondary school was originally meant to open today, few things in Tanzania ever go 100% according to plan, and we had a few hiccups. In the end, it worked out beautifully—I got to be present for the pre and primary students’ first day, and tomorrow I get to personally escort our secondary students into their new school year and experience it fully.
This year, we will begin with only Form 1 and Form 2—the first two grades of Tanzanian secondary school—which allows us to start small while finishing additional construction and working out any kinks. Currently, the school includes a vocational training center for carpentry and sewing, a mental health room with access to a counselor, a full gym, arts and crafts space, and a music center. We also have a beautiful library and computer lab, a fully stocked science laboratory, and a 100 ft x 40 ft dining/student hall that will eventually include a stage for debates, graduations, drama performances, and public speaking. Add to that sports fields and courts—and most importantly, an incredible group of staff and teachers who are excited to welcome our students into a safe, loving environment where they can truly grow.
Every January, after a wonderful month-long Christmas break, our students usually feel sad as they prepare to return to school. While we are deeply grateful that sponsors have allowed us to send our children to high-quality private schools, those environments require them to leave home and conform to a very strict, military-like school culture—shaved heads for both boys and girls, rigid uniforms, no jewelry, no nail polish, no individuality.
Tonight, on the night before our school opens, our students are joyful. They are wearing different hairstyles, painted nails, funky jewelry, and big, beautiful smiles. They’ve laid out their clothes for tomorrow: soft grey short-sleeved cotton polo shirts with the UCSS logo embroidered on the chest; black pants or shorts for boys, and black skirts or pants for girls (girls here are never given the option to wear pants to school—until now). On Mondays and Wednesdays, they’ll wear this uniform. Tuesdays and Thursdays are sports days, with grey tracksuits and sky-blue UCSS t-shirts. And Fridays? Black bottoms or even jeans with their Neema t-shirt. Watching them light up as I handed out their uniforms was one of the highlights of my year.
Tomorrow is going to be a great day.
While the purpose of this post was mainly to share my thoughts and excitement, I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t also share that we are truly struggling financially right now. We used a significant portion of our emergency fund to complete this project—because our students’ safety and futures come first. Additionally, the dollar has not rebounded since its sharp drop in January 2025, leaving our budget extremely tight. We still have facilities to complete, final finishes to install, and we must rebuild our emergency reserves.
We are still offering naming rights for school buildings, and we are engraving donor names on plaques in the student courtyard for gifts of $2,500 and $5,000 USD.
Below is a list of completed buildings and those still remaining. For other gifts, here’s how far your contribution can go in helping us finish this project:
https://www.neemainternational.org/s/construction-list-for-new-school.pdf
A bag of cement: $8
4-liter tin of blackboard paint: $20
Truckload of sand: $100
Truckload of aggregate: $150
In addition to construction, here’s how your support can help us run the school:
Full student uniform set: $75
One month of a teacher’s salary: $400
Feed the secondary school for one month (150 meals/day): $2,500
One year of student health insurance: $100
Transportation for one employee for one month: $50
Huge thank you to everyone who helped us out on giving Tuesday and to all of you who have been a part of this incredible journey. I cannot wait to send photos of the day tomorrow. Be sure to check in on our instagram and Facebook— @neemaintl !!!
Tonight, as the campus grows quiet and the children sleep, I am overwhelmed with gratitude. This school exists because people chose to care—because you chose to say yes, to give, to believe, and to walk this journey with us. Tomorrow, when our students step into their new classrooms, they will be stepping into a future that once felt out of reach. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for helping turn love into action and dreams into something real. I need to go to bed now — so beyond excited for the day!!!!! sending love from Tanzania! xoxo love, Mandy