The Story of a Maasai Girl Who Refused to Give Up

My name is Natoiwok Teresia Saetwa. I was born in Orbil village in Simanjiro District, Manyara Region, in northern Tanzania. My home lies in the heart of Maasai land, where our people have lived a traditional pastoral life for generations. We live in bomas, enclosed family homesteads surrounded by thorn fences where cattle, goats, and people live side by side. Our lives are deeply connected to our traditions, our livestock, and the land. These traditions are the foundation of our identity, but they can also make change very difficult, especially for girls.

From the moment I was born, my life seemed to follow a path already decided for me. When I was only six months old, I was adopted by another woman within my extended family. Among the Maasai, adoption within the family is not unusual. It is often done to strengthen family ties or to support relatives who do not have children. But my story was different. My biological mother was one of seven wives. When her husband discovered that I was not his biological child, he gave me away to his half-sister, a woman who had only one son. I was too young to understand what had happened. I grew up believing she was my real mother. She loved me deeply and cared for me as her own, but somewhere inside me there was always a quiet feeling that I did not completely belong.

As I grew older, the expectations placed on Maasai girls became part of my daily life. Like other girls in my community, my days were filled with responsibilities. I helped care for livestock, walked long distances to fetch water, collected firewood, and supported the work of the household. These duties were considered preparation for the life of a Maasai woman. Education was not seen as necessary for girls because our future was expected to be marriage.

But deep inside me, there was a different dream forming.
When I was ten years old, the first school in our village finally opened. It was a small and simple building, but to me it looked like a door to another world. I begged my mother to allow me to attend. To my surprise, she agreed. That decision changed the direction of my life.
School quickly became my safe place. I loved learning, and I worked hard in every subject. I consistently finished at the top of my class. Yet even while I was succeeding in school, I knew the expectations of my culture were still waiting for me. In our community, girls are often promised in marriage at a young age. By the time I was twelve, a husband had already been chosen for me. He was much older and already had other wives. It was understood that one day I would leave school and become another wife in his household.

The thought terrified me.
When I reached Form Two, I approached the age when girls in my community go through an important rite of passage into womanhood. It is a tradition that has existed for generations, and most girls are expected to pass through it without question. I remember feeling a deep fear inside me, knowing what many girls had endured before me. But in a quiet and courageous act of kindness, the woman responsible for guiding me through that moment chose a different path. She allowed the community to believe the ritual had been completed, while in truth she spared me from it. Her decision protected me in a way I did not fully understand at the time. Looking back, I realize how brave that quiet act was. In a place where traditions are rarely questioned, she chose compassion. That moment stayed with me, shaping my understanding that change can begin even with the smallest acts of courage.

Around that same period, education began opening new possibilities in my life. After completing Standard Seven, the Maasai Women Development Organization(MWEDO) selected me to join a one-year pre-secondary program designed to prepare students from rural communities for the transition into secondary education. During that year I studied hard and later sat for entrance examinations at a Catholic school, where I was accepted to begin my secondary school studies.

MWEDO continued to support my education throughout this journey. They supported me through pre-secondary school, secondary school, and later high school. For nearly seven years, they stood beside me and helped me continue my education at a time when many girls in my community were leaving school for marriage. Their support gave me not only an education but also the confidence to believe that my future could be different.

After finishing high school, another challenge appeared. I was accepted into university to study Business Administration with Accounting. It was a dream come true, yet my family did not have the financial means to support me. The organization that had supported my education for many years also did not have sufficient resources to continue supporting me at the university level. Once again, I found myself standing at a difficult crossroads. I spent months knocking on doors, asking for help, writing applications, and searching for any opportunity that might allow me to continue my education.

Then July 2013 arrived, the month I was supposed to begin my first year at university. At that time, the person who had previously promised to support my education suddenly withdrew their help. Everything collapsed at once. I had no money for university fees, no accommodation, and no clear plan for how I would survive in the city.

My mother advised me to return home to the village. She reminded me of a common African saying, Mkono hauwezi kukuna sehemu ambayo haifiki. It means that you cannot scratch a place your hand cannot reach. In other words, if something is beyond your ability, you must accept it.

But I could not accept it.
I had come too far to give up.
With nothing but determination, I traveled to Dar es Salaam anyway. I did not know where I would stay or how I would manage. Someone told me about an elderly Muslim man who owned a small hostel for students. I went to see him and told him the truth about my situation. I told him I was a Maasai girl who had come to start university but had nowhere to stay.

As I spoke, tears filled my eyes.
Perhaps he saw the desperation in my face, or perhaps he simply believed in helping someone who was trying to change her life. Whatever the reason, he showed me a kindness I will never forget. He allowed me to stay in a small bed in a room shared with four other students. He never told the others that I was not paying. To them, I was just another student.

Sometimes I had nothing, not even food. There were days when hunger felt heavier than all the worries in my heart. When that happened, I would quietly walk into his house and eat whatever they were eating that day. I never asked for anything special, only what was already on the table. Afterward, I would return silently to the hostel and lie down on my small bed, grateful that at least I had a place to sleep, even though I did not know what the next day would bring.

For three months, that small bed was the only certainty in my life. Everything else had to be figured out slowly, one step at a time. Food, clothes, university fees, and basic needs were problems I faced every single day. There were moments when I felt overwhelmed by fear and exhaustion, but each morning I reminded myself why I had started this journey.

Eventually, my perseverance paid off. I managed to complete my degree and later interned at Arusha University. Determined to continue learning, I began applying for scholarships for a Master’s degree.

Eventually, I was awarded a scholarship from a German organization led by Dr. Martin Krajewski, a German doctor who has worked with Catholic hospitals in Tanzania and has dedicated much of his spare time to helping vulnerable children in Africa, including children from very difficult backgrounds and many albino children who face great challenges. His compassion and commitment to supporting young people through education opened a new chapter in my life. Through this opportunity, I was able to pursue a Master’s degree in Social Science, specializing in Project Planning and Management, an achievement that once seemed far beyond my reach.

Completing my postgraduate education was one of the proudest moments of my life. But it was also bittersweet. I knew that my journey was the exception rather than the rule. Many Maasai girls with the same dreams never have the chance to pursue them. Many are married as children, and their opportunities for education disappear before they even begin.

This realization led me to establish Maasai Women Blazing Trails, a nonprofit organization dedicated to empowering Maasai girls and women. In building this vision, I was fortunate to receive encouragement and support from Robert Lange, an American donor whose organization, the International Collaborative of Science, Environment, and Education, has spent many years supporting communities in Africa, particularly Maasai communities. Through his dedication to education, environmental awareness, and community development, he has helped create opportunities for communities that often lack access to resources. His support strengthened my determination to transform my personal journey into a mission that could benefit many more girls.

For me, education was more than a personal achievement. It was a lifeline that allowed me to imagine a different future. I was fortunate that along my journey, a few courageous individuals chose to believe in me when the path ahead seemed impossible. Today, I carry that same belief for the girls growing up in Maasai communities. Every girl deserves the chance to learn, to dream, and to shape her own future. Through Maasai Women Blazing Trails, we are working to ensure that these girls are not forced to abandon their education or their dreams. With the partnership of supporters who believe in the power of education, we can create opportunities for many more girls to stand where I stand today, not limited by tradition, but empowered to become leaders, innovators, and voices for change in their communities.

If my story speaks to you, I invite you to be part of this journey. Your support can help keep a girl in school, protect her from early marriage, and give her the chance to build her own future. Whether through partnership, sponsorship, or simply reaching out to learn more, you can help change a life. Together, we can ensure that no Maasai girl has to give up on her dreams.