Fastened for the Future

At first light on Pediatorkope Island in eastern Ghana, parents walk their children to the muddy banks of the Volta River. No yellow buses wait here. Instead, small wooden boats line the shore, ready to carry students to school on the mainland.

Children ages 4 to 15 pile into the narrow vessels — some with motors, others steered by hand. When families cannot afford a motorized ride or an adult to row, children must paddle themselves across the water.

The crossing takes about 20 minutes each way. On the river, the children sit quietly. Sometimes they sing softly to pass the time, but more often they stay focused on reaching the other side. They know the risk. Their parents do too.

From late April into November, high water and strong currents make the crossing more dangerous. Some children have fallen into the river, and not every child knows how to swim. There have been no confirmed drownings of Pediatorkope children, but fatal capsizes elsewhere along the river have claimed lives in recent years.

Still, they go.

Without school, young people in Pediatorkope have few options beyond fishing, selling the day’s catch or harvesting clams. Parents live with that fear because school may offer something different.

Each morning, as the boats pull away from the bank, some parents stay and wave until their child disappears from sight. Others cannot bear to watch.

Fifty miles and a world away

The effort to make the crossing safer began in Accra, Ghana’s capital. Members of the Accra Golden Lions Club, a 58-member group chartered in 1992, saw a local television report about children making the daily river commute — and couldn’t forget what they had seen.

For club president Nehemiah Yelu Attigah, the images hit close to home. He thought of his young son and the safety of their own morning routine.

“Imagine your child has to get into a wooden boat to cross a river every day,” Attigah said. “No parent should have to wonder if their child made it to school.”

Determined to help, the Lions set out to buy life jackets for students in Pediatorkope — but first, they needed to raise the money. They organized a car wash with the help of local Leos. They spent the day scrubbing cars with buckets of soapy water and spray wands, bringing in as much as they could for the project.

A little less fear

On delivery day, Attigah and his fellow Lions and Leos left Accra at sunrise with the life jackets. To reach the island community, they traveled the same route children take each day to school.

They rode in a motorboat, wearing borrowed life jackets. Even then, Attigah was afraid.

“As we made our way across the river, I thought, this boat could overturn and I could lose my life,” he recalled. “Imagine experiencing that every day.”

By the time they reached Pediatorkope Island, students in orange-and-brown school uniforms were already waiting.

The brightly colored life jackets stood out against the dusty ground as the Lions and Leos unpacked them. The children slipped them on as buckles were fastened and straps were pulled tight. Then came the hugs, a reflection of their immense gratitude. Nearby, parents watched — quiet, smiling.

With a life jacket wrapped around his small frame, Tetteh, 10, who dreams of becoming a teacher, was not thinking about the journey ahead, but about his mother.

“Now my mother doesn’t have to cry or be afraid when I go to school.”