The Power of Correspondence

Synchronicity has always fascinated me, particularly when I see it at work right in front of my nose. I was reminded of that on Monday, when I opened the mail box the day after my last post. I started visibly when I saw that the front page story of the Women for Women International newsletter was a letter from the founder, Zainab Salbi, about the power of the correspondence we have with the women we sponsor. Her letter felt so much like a response to my posting, that it took me a minute to realize it was nothing more than a timely coincidence. Because it's such a moving letter, I post it here as a bookend to my own piece, My Nigerian Sisters.

The Power of Correspondence
http://www.womenforwomen.org/documents/FinalFall2007Newsletter.pdf

As I walk up the front stairs of my home and see bills and junk mail poking out of the corners of my mailbox, a feeling of annoyance overcomes me. I open the mailbox and throw away half of the envelopes and go on with my evening. But I did not always feel this way about mail…that it is a nuisance and a chore. I remember my childhood in Baghdad – where most of the bills were never mailed but were hand delivered. A worker at the electric or water company would come to your house, read your meter, and hand you a bill stating how much you owed. When we heard the sounds of the horse and carriage clopping down the street coupled with a man yelling "Nafud! Nafud!" ("oil" in Arabic), we came out of our houses to purchase the much needed commodity to cook and heat our homes.

The delivery of mail was a completely different matter. One only received mail from loved ones, friends, or colleagues. Receiving mail provoked a personal feeling of excitement and joy to hear from the friend who had thought of me and reached out with a letter. I still feel that excitement when I receive a personal letter in my mailbox, with a hand-written address and a stamp. It reminds me of the moments of excitement that I felt as a child in Iraq. That excited feeling of someone reaching out to you from far away is very real for the women we serve through our Sponsorship Program.

According to the Country Directors, 90 percent of the women in our program have never received a personal letter in their lives. And in a culture and a context where personal letters are unusual, the impact of receiving one is far more important than many of you who write the letters to your sponsored sisters can imagine. For a woman to receive a letter in this context implies power and importance, which has a direct impact on her self-esteem. The woman realizes that “someone cares about me and I have a friend abroad."

I have had the privilege of witnessing the delivery of your letters delivered in the field.

Letters are delivered once a month when the women meet in their groups of 20 and attend their rights trainings. When a letter from you is delivered to your sister, the other women in her group huddle around, looking at the pictures you sent of your family or your garden, updating each other on how you and your family are doing, the health of your mother, the education of your child, your new pet. They care about the day-to-day occurrences of your life, like you are a member of their families. Even when a sister receives a simple note or greeting card with a poem inside, her days brighten and fill with hope. Your sisters keep your letters in the most precious places they have, under a pillow, in a jewelry box, with their children’s birth certificates or school degrees. A simple letter — which I know sometimes can be hard to write as you wonder what to say — increases your sister’s joy and her connection to the beauty of humanity, to your humanity.

Berra Kabarungi, our Rwanda Country Director, once quoted a Rwandan participant who had received a letter from her sponsor. The participant said, “If I can get a letter from someone so far away who says that they love me, and they have never even met me, who am I not to love my neighbors?”

In a country torn apart by war, that message of love that you can provide directly can affect the reconciliation of a community. In an interview with Honorata, former participant and current staff member in the DRC (Democratic Republic of the Congo), she told me that despite the atrocities she suffered when she was taken as a sex slave for many months, receiving a letter from someone who says that they cared restored her faith in humanity and meant that what happened to her mattered and was not ignored.

The next time you sit down to write a long letter or short note to say hello to your sister and to tell her that someone from far away cares, remember that your words will elicit a smile on your sister’s face and that behind that smile there is power…the power of keeping hope alive, the power of believing in humankind, and the power to have the courage to build peace.
--Zainab