If you think back to your school days, you might recall learning about Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. It’s a fairly intuitive psychology concept. Basically, it says humans need to take care of bodily needs before graduating to lofty goals like love, belonging, and self-actualization.
For those of us who operate mainly within the upper sections of that pyramid day in and day out, it can be difficult to imagine what life would look like for the 771 million people who spend a good portion of each day worrying about how to fulfill their bodily needs — like finding water. Anyone who collects water from a source not at home will automatically need to think about water more than someone with ready access to clean water.
With so much being said about gratitude in today’s world, it’s hard for those of us who stand on a sturdy physiological foundation without much fear of it crumbling to imagine what it would be like to conduct our everyday lives without it. By being born in an industrialized country with relatively easy access to water, we can’t fully understand.
But today, I aim to help you get a bit closer to that understanding.
“I am…thankful that I had the opportunity to escape from the chains of illiteracy,” said Ibrahim Bangura, teacher at Borope Community School, where we installed a well in 2020.
“I am born and raised in this village,” Ibrahim continued.
“A village of more than one thousand people and one functioning water well. I feel bad for my students and family members. We are left with no option but to drink water from the stream or an open water well.
“The children, because of health problems, are absent from school frequently. Drinking water from an unacceptable source leaves the children open to waterborne diseases. The children are reporting diarrhea, dysentery, bloated stomachs, and fevers. The other important aspect is the children are always late coming to school. They spend most of their mornings standing in long lines, waiting to fetch water.”
“[I am] thankful I am in primary school and I don’t have to wear a white uniform, because it would have long been stained from using unsafe and unclean water,” said 12-year-old student Alimamy B., also from Borope Community School.
“I always spend my mornings and evenings fetching water,” Alimamy continued.
“We would use water from just any place, but all the streams and shallow wells are no longer providing sufficient water. We, the children, carry the bulk of responsibility of fetching water for [our] homes.
“Whenever [I am] sent to fetch water, [my] parents will be upset thinking I am busy playing with my friends. I was [punished] one time when I spent more than two hours just to bring a bucket of water home. I explained, [but] there was nothing I could do to escape the [punishment]. The next day, I convinced all the other children at the water well the day before, and they explained to my mother. I already received the [punishment], but I did that so it will not happen to me again.”
“I am thankful to have a roof and food because there are others with neither,” said 20-year-old mother Fatmata Conteh from Lungi Lol Community, whose well we rehabilitated in 2022.
“A husband found me at a young age. I now have three children, and I have no plan of having any more anytime soon. I am currently a suckling mother. The pain I feel every day is not small. [I feel] more pain seeing young girls my age group going to school while I sit home suckling a child, bare feet and no money.”
Even people in a country with common water infrastructure can imagine what it’s like to be grateful for their mother — and, sometimes, what it feels like to be responsible for younger siblings or family members.
“I am very grateful to have a mother,” said 13-year-old Samuel from Masoila Community, which received a new well from us in 2021.
“She is the only provider for me and my siblings. At my age, it is my responsibility to take care of my family. I have to be a man at an early age, with a lot of responsibilities. I have had [a] hernia since I was a baby, and the doctor had advised waiting until I [was] older for the surgery.
“I am older now, no father anymore, and definitely no money for the surgery. I limit myself on the activities I do daily [so as] not to aggravate the hernia. Most of the time, I feel a lot of pain, but I have to do my part to take care of the family. I wear tight clothes and underpants so pressure can reduce the pain on my stomach.
“What is a big issue is carrying heavy buckets on my head. To avoid that, I am using a wheelbarrow from a neighbor to fetch water easily without the use of [my] head to carry buckets.”
This article is not an attempt to shame or humble anyone with a consistent water supply. Instead, it’s a reminder.
When you think of what you’re thankful for this Thanksgiving (whether or not your family forces you to say what you’re thankful for out loud like mine sometimes did), remember to count those needs that live in the bottom tiers of your own personal hierarchy of needs. They’re just as important, even if we forget to think about them sometimes.
And, lastly, I’d like to acknowledge how grateful we at The Water Project are for you, dear reader. You drive our work forward; there is no Water Project (and there are no water projects) without you.
If you’re thankful for what you have, and have some to spare, consider taking advantage of our special 2X donation match going on now through December 25th to help bring a community a much-needed safe water source. With the match, each contribution will go twice as far toward getting people the clean water they need.
As our founder Peter likes to say, we want everyone in the world to be able to take water for granted like we do. But just this once — don’t take your water for granted.
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