Blog

We Were The Homework

by NTS Staff

Luis Hernandez came to NTS to build one web application for a college course. Two years later, he built an entire system with eight web apps and counting.

How does a college assignment turn into a two-year commitment? To get there, you have to start well before the assignment, in a primary school classroom in California. A boy named Luis Hernandez was refusing to do his homework. By his own count, he finished fewer than ten assignments in six years, was reprimanded for it almost daily, and didn’t care. What changed his mind wasn’t a teacher but his older brother, who was a dedicated student and dared his younger brother to earn straight A’s. Sibling competition may have been the motivator but by the end of high school, Luis, who had struggled with basic division was at the top of his calculus courses, and enrolled in college to earn a computer science degree.

Which is where NTS sneaks into the story. His university handed him one more assignment. Not only did he turn this one in on time, he submitted twice what was required, and continued working on it for two more years.

That assignment was us – NTS.

How we found Luis

Typically, we’d be telling you that we went out and recruited a software engineer. We didn’t. In late 2024, Luis was in his senior year and enrolled in a course called Race, Gender, Class in the Digital World,.  This class required students to volunteer with an outside organisation to solve a real-world problem. NTS was on the list of possible partners.

Why did Luis pick us? The answer starts in his hometown Salinas, California, a low-income agricultural town. Like many families there, the Hernandez family struggled financially. His parents came to California to build a better life. They had been born in a small village with so little access to education that, in Luis’s telling, they did not know Earth was a planet or that other planets shared the same galaxy. In Salinas, they raised a family and worked in the fields every day for years. Luis credits them with teaching their children about hard work and accomplishment by example. Today three of their children hold advanced STEM degrees.

So when Luis read the NTS mission in that university classroom, he didn’t deliberate. “Given the background of my own family, there was zero chance I wouldn’t help provide education to others in need.”

At school, the assignment was simple. In two months, create one web application, submit it and move on.

What Luis didn’t expect was a school running on spreadsheets. We were a bare-bones, Excel-driven operation.  While we knew exactly what information we needed to track and record, we didn’t have a system to analyze it. So, every term the files grew larger, and the numbers denser, and it would take hours to try and extract meaning.  We were desperate for a solution, with no idea where to start.

Luis had never done consulting work. He was honest, asking us to describe the problem. Then he worked through what was actually broken rather than what merely sounded broken, and came back with a proposal. Two months later he handed over two basic applications instead of the single one he owed, which he credits to the weekly meetings and lots of trial and error.

The part where he was supposed to leave

The course ended, we submitted an overwhelmingly positive evaluation, and by every reasonable expectation that was that.

But Luis had a lot of ideas and kept meeting with us. He was on fire. There was so much to learn and to do for NTS.

Over the following months he took a course on internet programming, taught himself new frameworks and presented an idea larger than anything we had ever envisioned.

The two applications he had built for NTS needed somewhere to live, so they had gone up on a subdomain of the school website which was our staff portal. But the architecture underneath the portal was dated and it was never going to grow with the school. Luis wanted to knock the whole thing down and rebuild it as a standalone system that could handle many more database operations. This was new to Luis so he sought mentorship from a school professor and then presented NTS with a proposal for his senior-year capstone project. We jumped at the chance.

So, the system Nyamboyo Technical School applications run on today began as a capstone project.

The portal

Jump back a decade. Luis discovered technology the way many children do, playing video games. Initially, he was lured in by the fantasy of living in game worlds. But, as he got older, what intrigued him was the craft – the beauty and imagination of these worlds. He began to ask, “How do people create a digital experience that feels like a magical portal to another world?” He learned about programmers and artists working side by side, which, while less magical, hooked him on a career in technology.

Today, Luis is a software engineer. NTS’ staff portal holds eight applications all of which he designed. Ask him which one brings him the greatest pride and he goes straight to the student health application, which manages student health records and raises a flag when a student’s measurements start moving in the wrong direction. Building it meant turning official CDC growth reference data into a working database table, a problem he found genuinely novel and rewarding. Still that isn’t the reason he names it. “Most of all, I’m exhilarated that the student health application can help students stay healthy, which is more important than anything.”

The young boy who was captivated by portals into other worlds, built one into ours.

Still  this hasn’t been a one-way relationship. In two years at NTS, Luis has learned how to design a system from nothing, to listen to people who may not be engineers but who know the problem best, and to mentor the volunteer engineers who came after him. He freelances now, working on large professional projects and is soon beginning graduate school for computer science. He hopes to grow a company that permanently commits part of itself to nonprofit work. “Nearly everyone can always devote at least some time towards good causes, regardless of how busy they are.”

Building something out of nothing

There’s a pattern in the Hernandez family, and it has nothing to do with software.

His parents built a life out of a piece of California that offered them modest living but great opportunity. He has spent two years doing a version of the same thing for a school half a world away.

Our students will probably never meet him. Yet, today, they are using the library application that Luis built to find the books they want to read in our new library. So everyday, Luis is a part of their lives.

 

 

Want to support what is happening at NTS?       www.nyamboyotechnical.org

A Farewell and Thank you to NTS

by NTS Staff

There is a moment that happens in our workshops that we have started watching for. A student finishes a task — wires a connection, completes a seam, lays a course of brick — and then, without being asked, turns to the student next to them and shows them how.

Nobody asked them to do it. They just did.

We did not plan this. We noticed it happening and started paying attention.

Something They Already Knew How to Do

Most of our students come from large families. Many of them have younger brothers and sisters, and many have had to step in for parents — taking on responsibilities at home that most young people their age have never had to think about. Helping someone learn is not a new experience for them. They arrived at NTS already knowing how to do it.

What surprised us was watching that same instinct move sideways, from siblings and family to fellow students. A student who understood a concept would turn to the person next to them and explain it naturally, the same way they might at home. They were not waiting to be asked. They were not performing for a teacher. They were just helping.

Once we saw it, we started making more room for it.

Everyone Has Something to Teach

Being capable and knowing you are capable are not the same thing, and for many of our students, the second one comes harder.

What peer teaching does is make it plain that every student in the room knows something the others do not yet know. That knowledge does not only come from the teacher or the textbook. It comes from the person sitting next to you.

Students who have been quiet begin to speak. Students who have struggled in one area turn out to be the person others come to in another. A student who finds English difficult may be the steadiest pair of hands in the electrical workshop. A student still finding their footing in tailoring may explain a concept in a way that finally clicks for someone who needed it said differently. Every student carries something worth sharing. It is not always where you expect it.

Teaching Is the Deepest Kind of Learning

You do not fully understand something until you have to explain it to someone else.

When a student thinks they understand a concept, they can carry that feeling quietly and never really test it. But when they have to put that understanding into words for another person, into steps that someone else can actually follow, they find out quickly and precisely where their knowledge holds and where it does not. The gaps show up. And because they are the ones who found them, they are the ones who want to fill them.

This is not a replacement for instruction. It makes instruction go deeper.

What Our Teachers Are Doing With It

What began as something students did on their own has grown into something the whole school is building on. Peer teaching is now making its way into formal curriculum plans. Teachers are designing workshops around it, building in time for students to lead explanations, and pairing students with intention rather than leaving it to chance.

That is a significant step. When teachers incorporate something into their lesson plans, it means they trust it. It means they have seen it work.

What We Are Seeing

Students hold onto skills better. But more than that, students who are used to receiving instruction find out that they have something to give. That does not stay in the workshop. It goes home with them. It changes how they see themselves.

At NTS we talk a great deal about what our students will do after they graduate — the trades they will practice, the businesses they will build, the families they will support. This habit of turning to someone who is struggling and offering a hand is not a trade skill but essential to success building a community anywhere. And we are proud to see it growing at NTS.

Want to support what is happening at NTS?       www.nyamboyotechnical.org

Meet Agnes Nyabiage Otwere, Our New English Teacher

by NTS Staff

Welcome, Agnes Nyabiage Otwere, Our New English Teacher!

Please join NTS as we welcome our new senior English teacher, Agnes Nyabiage Otwere. We wanted skill, heart, and the spark to inspire. We searched for three months and met many strong candidates. When Agnes walked into the building, we knew within minutes we had our match.

Agnes is a good listener with a strong background in youth training. In her interview, we asked her how she would handle a student falling behind. She said she would first try to understand why. Then she would help the student directly, or bring in the necessary support . Her answer showed empathy and a practical problem-solving approach, the perfect touch for NTS students.

Agnes credits her family for her love of both work and education. Education always came first for her parents. Rather than push her toward marriage, as Kenyan tradition expects, they pushed her toward her professional dreams. They cheered her through every stage of her schooling, and when she felt discouraged, they would not let her settle for less than her best. That support has shaped the teacher she is today.

Her interest in English was sparked at Rangenyo Girls High School where she focused on writing and spoken English. By graduation, she was fluent and certain she wanted to be an English educator.

At Kisii University she added the missing piece, pairing education with her English studies. The university gave her confidence and depth, and she graduated ready to teach.

In the classroom, Agnes covers the four pillars of English. She teaches reading, writing, speaking, and listening. She wants her students to do more than pass the national NITA exam. She wants them to live in English, to use it every day, with confidence and ease. She enjoys building lesson plans and leading classroom discussions, but what excites her most is what happens outside of class. Today, she is launching a “Lunch in English” program. Students share lunch with her or another teacher, and the conversation runs in English, on whatever passion they choose.

Agnes’ goal is to be a teacher who changes lives. “My life journey reflects determination, hard work, and a strong passion for education. I am committed to making a difference through teaching and helping students achieve their full potential.”

As she says this, her smile gives her away. Her energy and her optimism are contagious.

Welcome to NTS, Agnes. We are so fortunate to have you as a vital member of our community!

When Students Become Teachers

by NTS Staff

There is a moment that happens in our workshops that we have started watching for. A student finishes a task — wires a connection, completes a seam, lays a course of brick — and then, without being asked, turns to the student next to them and shows them how.

Nobody asked them to do it. They just did.

We did not plan this. We noticed it happening and started paying attention.

Something They Already Knew How to Do

Most of our students come from large families. Many of them have younger brothers and sisters, and many have had to step in for parents — taking on responsibilities at home that most young people their age have never had to think about. Helping someone learn is not a new experience for them. They arrived at NTS already knowing how to do it.

What surprised us was watching that same instinct move sideways, from siblings and family to fellow students. A student who understood a concept would turn to the person next to them and explain it naturally, the same way they might at home. They were not waiting to be asked. They were not performing for a teacher. They were just helping.

Once we saw it, we started making more room for it.

Everyone Has Something to Teach

Being capable and knowing you are capable are not the same thing, and for many of our students, the second one comes harder.

What peer teaching does is make it plain that every student in the room knows something the others do not yet know. That knowledge does not only come from the teacher or the textbook. It comes from the person sitting next to you.

Students who have been quiet begin to speak. Students who have struggled in one area turn out to be the person others come to in another. A student who finds English difficult may be the steadiest pair of hands in the electrical workshop. A student still finding their footing in tailoring may explain a concept in a way that finally clicks for someone who needed it said differently. Every student carries something worth sharing. It is not always where you expect it.

Teaching Is the Deepest Kind of Learning

You do not fully understand something until you have to explain it to someone else.

When a student thinks they understand a concept, they can carry that feeling quietly and never really test it. But when they have to put that understanding into words for another person, into steps that someone else can actually follow, they find out quickly and precisely where their knowledge holds and where it does not. The gaps show up. And because they are the ones who found them, they are the ones who want to fill them.

This is not a replacement for instruction. It makes instruction go deeper.

What Our Teachers Are Doing With It

What began as something students did on their own has grown into something the whole school is building on. Peer teaching is now making its way into formal curriculum plans. Teachers are designing workshops around it, building in time for students to lead explanations, and pairing students with intention rather than leaving it to chance.

That is a significant step. When teachers incorporate something into their lesson plans, it means they trust it. It means they have seen it work.

What We Are Seeing

Students hold onto skills better. But more than that, students who are used to receiving instruction find out that they have something to give. That does not stay in the workshop. It goes home with them. It changes how they see themselves.

At NTS we talk a great deal about what our students will do after they graduate — the trades they will practice, the businesses they will build, the families they will support. This habit of turning to someone who is struggling and offering a hand is not a trade skill but essential to success building a community anywhere. And we are proud to see it growing at NTS.

Want to support what is happening at NTS?       www.nyamboyotechnical.org

Yes, You Can Teach Old-ish Dogs New Tricks!

By NTS staff

Every September, without fail, our teachers faced the same mountain.  Curriculum.

A new school year meant rebuilding their curriculum from scratch. Which topics needed to be covered for the NITA national exam? In what order? Over how many weeks? Where was that worksheet from last year — the good one, the one that actually worked? Was it in that folder? That notebook? Did it even get written down?

Our teachers are skilled professionals and deeply committed to their students. But NTS, like most vocational schools in rural Kenya, had no formal curriculum. Teachers organized their lessons around the NITA requirements for the national exam, which gave them a framework, but not a plan. What filled the gap was memory, improvisation, and an enormous amount of repeated effort. Every year, the work of building a coherent course started over. Every year, the pressure landed fresh on the same shoulders.

It was exhausting. And it was unnecessary. We just didn’t know it yet.

A New Idea, and an Unfamiliar Skill

Last year, we introduced lesson plans.

That may sound simple. It was not. Formal lesson planning — the kind that maps out each class in advance, estimates how long each task will take, identifies reference materials, and builds in time for worksheets and homework — is not something taught in Kenyan schools. It was a new skill for our teachers, and a demanding one. It required a different kind of thinking. Not reactive, but anticipatory. Not “what will I teach today” but “what does this entire course need to accomplish, and how do we get there, step by step.”

We gave our teachers a template. Each lesson plan would identify the topic and its learning objectives, break the class into timed tasks, note the references and materials required, and attach any worksheets or homework assignments. That alone was a shift. But we added one more element that turned out to be the most important of all.

After each class, teachers started taking notes. What went well. What fell flat. What will need more time next year. What the students struggled to grasp and what clicked immediately.

A lesson plan is not just a map for the future. It becomes a record of the past. And that record is where the real value lives.

The Miracle of the Second Year

It was hard work. It took time teachers didn’t always feel they had. There were moments of frustration.  Mountains to climb

This year, something remarkable happened.

September arrived, and for the first time, our teachers walked a hill rather than climbing a mountain. The major planning was done. The course structure existed. The worksheets were there. The notes from last year told them exactly where to focus their energy — not on rebuilding, but on improving. Tighten this section. Expand that one. Last year, students found this concept confusing … so try a different approach.

The year started with relief. Quiet astonishment. This is what planning does. Not just the planning itself, but the compounding effect of planning over time. Every year the course gets a little better. Every year the teacher arrives a little more prepared. Every year the pressure is a little lighter.

Lightning struck, as they say. Our teachers understood, in their bones, what they had built.

What This Means for Our Students

It is easy to talk about lesson plans as a tool for teachers. But the person who benefits most is sitting in the classroom.

When a teacher is well-prepared, students feel it. The class has a shape to it. There is a beginning, a middle, and an end. Concepts build on each other rather than arriving in whatever order they were remembered. Materials are ready. Time is used well. The teacher, freed from the anxiety of improvisation, can focus entirely on the young people in front of them.

Our students come to NTS to become certified professionals — electricians, tailors, carpenters, hairdressers — who can walk into the Kenyan workforce and hold their own. The quality of their training determines the quality of that preparation. Better lesson plans mean better lessons. Better lessons mean better-prepared graduates. And better-prepared graduates mean more lives changed, more families lifted, more futures secured.

The chain runs all the way from a teacher’s notebook to a young person’s first day of work.

A Small Change with a Long Reach

We are proud of many things at NTS. Our 100% NITA pass rate. Our female empowerment programs. Our students who arrive with nothing and leave as certified professionals.

But we are also proud of a group of dedicated teachers who were asked to learn something new and unfamiliar, who pushed through the difficulty of it, who built something in year one that paid them back in year two — and will keep paying them back for every year that follows.

You can absolutely teach old-ish dogs new tricks. You just have to give them a good reason.

At NTS, the reason is always the same. The students. 

Training Hands and Healing Hearts

by NTS Staff

At Nyamboyo Technical School, we often talk about what our students do with their hands. Electrical Wiring. Tailoring. Masonry. Hairdressing. These are the trades that will shape our students’ futures. We are enormously proud of what they learn and accomplish in our classrooms and workshops. But hands, it turns out, are only part of the story.

Our students arrive at NTS carrying something that cannot be measured on a national exam. They carry the weight of lives shaped by poverty — by hunger, by crowded homes, by worries no teenager should have to hold alone. If we only address the technical side of our students’ education and ignore the emotional and psychological side, we are not truly preparing them for the world. We are only doing half the job.

That is why we launched our monthly counseling program.

What Poverty Does to a Young Person

Nyamboyo Village is a community of nearly 58,000 people. It is rich in culture and natural resources. It is also a place where many families live on very little. For our students, this means daily realities that most people in the outside world rarely have to think about.

It means going to bed hungry and coming to school the next day and trying to concentrate. It means living in homes that are deeply overcrowded, where there is no quiet space and no privacy, and where sleep is not always restful when you share a bed with 4 others. It means having no reliable access to clean water or sanitation. It means watching family members go without medical care because there is simply no way to afford it.

It also means something that is harder to name but just as real. It means growing up in households where the adults around you are under tremendous pressure. Poverty is exhausting and demoralizing. When adults are stretched to their limits by stress and hardship, children can become the nearest target for that frustration. Many of our students have experienced anger, harshness, or worse, directed at them at home — not because they are unloved, but because the adults around them are drowning.

These experiences do not simply disappear when a student steps through our gates. They travel with our young people. They shape how students feel about themselves, how they relate to others, how they handle setbacks, and how they imagine their futures. Research on poverty-related trauma tells us that when these experiences go unaddressed, they can hold a person back for years.

Small Groups, Big Conversations

Once a month, we gather our students into small groups to talk.

The groups are intentionally small. We have found that our students open up in ways they never would in a large assembly or a full classroom. When there are only a few people in the room, it feels safer. Students can speak at their own pace, in their own words. They can listen. They can discover that the thing they have been ashamed of or frightened by is something their classmates understand — because they have lived it too.

The Professionals Behind Our Program

One of the most important decisions we made in designing this program was bringing in professional counselors from outside NTS.

Our sessions are led by Alyce Ngige, director of Renewed Hope Counseling Center, who brings a team of six trained local counselors to work with our students each month. Their expertise is invaluable. But beyond their professional qualifications, something else matters enormously — they are not our students’ teachers.

That distinction turns out to be everything.

Our teachers are trusted, respected figures in our students’ lives, which is precisely why students may hesitate to be fully honest with them. Shame and embarrassment are powerful forces, especially for teenagers. A student who loves and respects a teacher may not be able to tell that teacher that she goes to bed hungry most nights, or that the anger in her home frightens her, or that she has questions about her own body that she has never felt safe enough to ask. The relationship that makes a teacher powerful in the classroom can create an invisible barrier in a counseling context.

With Alyce and her team, that barrier lifts. Students know that what they say in the room stays in the room. They are speaking with professionals whose entire purpose is to listen without judgment — not to grade them, not to report back to school leadership, not to see them in the hallway the next morning as their teacher. That distance creates freedom. And in that freedom, our students speak.

What We Talk About

The conversations are not easy. We address things that are rarely spoken about openly in our community. What it feels like to be hungry and embarrassed. What it does to a child to witness adult rage directed at them. The weight of worrying about a sick family member and knowing there is no money for a doctor. The shame that poverty can place on young shoulders.

We also discuss psycho-sexual health which is rarely addressed honestly in schools or homes in our region. Our students are teenagers navigating changes in their bodies and growing awareness of their own sexuality, often without reliable information or anyone safe to ask. Alyce and her team create a space where students can understand their bodies, ask questions without embarrassment, and receive accurate, respectful answers. This knowledge is not separate from their well-being — it is central to it.

What happens when these things are named aloud, in a safe space, among peers and guided by professionals? Something shifts. Students begin to understand that their struggles are not personal failings. They are the predictable consequences of circumstances that no child chose. That understanding is not a small thing. For many of our students, it is the beginning of something new.

What We Are Building

Experience has taught us that vocational training alone cannot accomplish that mission. A young woman who graduates as a certified hairdresser but has never been given the chance to process her own experiences — to grieve what was hard, to understand her own resilience, to build the kind of inner confidence that carries her through the inevitable obstacles of adult life — is less equipped than she could be.

Our counseling program is not a replacement for professional mental health services. In an ideal world, every student would have access to trained therapists and sustained psychological support. We are working toward expanding what we offer, including family support programs and crisis resources.

But what we have created is something real and meaningful.  It is a monthly space where young people are seen, heard, and reminded that they matter. Where the experiences they have survived are acknowledged. Where they build bonds with peers who understand. And where the idea takes root, quietly and steadily, that their futures are not determined by the circumstances of their childhoods.

An Invitation

If you are reading this, you are someone who cares about what happens to young people in Nyamboyo. We thank you for that.

Supporting NTS means supporting the whole student — the skilled professional they are becoming, and the full human being they already are. Our counseling program, like all of our support programs, depends on the generosity of people who believe that young people in remote, under-resourced communities deserve the same investment in their wellbeing that young people anywhere deserve.

If you would like to learn more or help us expand this program, we welcome you to get in touch at info@nyamboyotechnical.org.

Together, we are building something that lasts.

AFRIpads: When Practical Supports Dignity

By NTS staff

Last week, something powerful happened at Nyamboyo Technical School.

We held our annual AFRIpads training, a 2-day workshop on human reproduction and menstrual health.  This year, it wasn’t just “successful.” It was deeply moving — the kind of experience that reminds you why education, when paired with dignity and practical support, can change a young person’s life in an instant.

What is AFRIpads?

AFRIpads is a social enterprise focused on menstrual health and hygiene, best known for manufacturing high-quality reusable sanitary pads and related menstrual products. Their approach goes beyond distributing materials, combining menstrual health education with practical solutions designed to remove barriers that keep girls out of school and limit confidence. Reusable kits are also more cost-effective and waste-reducing, which matters in rural communities where ongoing access to disposable products is unreliable.

A Strong Foundation — Then a Breakthrough

This term, our students have been learning about reproductive health. These lessons matter. They give students technical language so they can speak with less awkwardness about deeply personal issues. They build confidence. They created a foundation that allowed the AFRIpads sessions to go deeper — not as a first introduction, but as a real conversation.

And that conversation came alive.

From the start, students leaned in. They listened intently. They asked thoughtful questions. At times, the discussions were emotional — because for many of our teenagers, especially our girls, this topic is not theoretical. It’s personal, urgent, and tied to everyday survival.  Pregnancy can end a promising career.  HIV can be fatal.

Expert Leadership Makes the Difference

A big part of what made this training so impactful was the leadership behind it.

Norah Kadesa is our outside trainer and menstrual health expert, and she comes to NTS each year to lead this training. Her experience, clarity, and warmth set the tone immediately — students trust her, and that trust creates the conditions for honest learning.

She was joined by Rael Mogusu, our Deputy Director, who is also a registered nutritionist and an expert in female health. Together, Norah and Rael brought both professional expertise and deep cultural understanding, which helped students feel safe, seen, and respected.

Safe Spaces Create Honest Voices

After a joint session with all students — including an AFRIpads baseline survey to evaluate their knowledge — we separated into groups to create comfort and safety:

  • Boys met with Jones Obiria, NTS Founder and Director
  • Girls met with Norah Kadesa and Rael Mogusu

Then we did something new: we separated the younger girls, our Year 1 studentes, into their own smaller group.

That choice transformed everything.

You could see their innocence and curiosity right away — and you could also see their caution. Cultural norms often teach young people to stay silent about reproductive health. But slowly, the room changed.

Questions came with hesitantly raised hands.  Honest ones. Brave ones. Sometimes whispered at first, then spoken clearly. And every question — every single one — was met with care, clarity, and respect.

The result was something rare in rural communities: open dialogue without shame.

The Joy on Their Faces Was Unforgettable

Then came a moment we won’t forget.

When the girls received their AFRIpads menstrual materials, the room lit up.

Our students come from poverty, where access to menstrual hygiene products is limited or inconsistent. For some girls, this lack of access affects attendance, confidence, and health. It can quietly interrupt education in ways outsiders rarely see.

So when the pads were distributed, what we witnessed wasn’t just gratitude.

It was relief. It was joy.  It was dignity.

The younger girls were thrilled — smiling in a way that said, I feel seen. And the older girls, whose previous supplies had already been used up, were equally grateful to receive replacements.

A powerful reminder: when you combine education with practical support, you don’t just deliver information — you restore confidence.

Boys Engaged — and That Matters

The boys’ session was also a bright spot.

They participated actively and respectfully. They asked questions. They wanted to learn more. Their inclusion matters because reducing stigma around menstruation doesn’t happen when we educate girls alone — it happens when boys learn to understand, respect, and support.

One of the strongest outcomes from this training was seeing reproductive health education embraced by both genders.

What We Learned: Our Students Are Hungry for Knowledge

If there is one thing we would improve, it’s time.

In Kenya, it’s taboo to talk about reproduction in a family.  So, our students want to know more, to learn about their bodies.  We held Q&A session that went on for, literally hours, because students had so much to ask. That’s the kind of “challenge” we’re grateful for: teenagers hungry for knowledge and asking for more opportunities to learn.

We also heard something important from the boys: While education is essential, they also want to feel supported and included in practical ways. Moving forward, we will explore additional engagement resources for boys — materials and activities that reinforce their role as allies and informed peers.

We thank AFRIpads for their products and the investment they have made in creating education materials that protect dignity.  We thank our community for supporting this effort.  Our students are growing, not only into skilled professionals,  but also into confident, informed adults.

To be continued — because as our students ask for more, we’re listening.

Our New Generator – A Lifeline to the World

By NTS staff

In rural Kenya, you learn quickly that electricity is never something you can take for granted.

At Nyamboyo Technical School, power outages are a normal part of life—but “normal” doesn’t mean easy. In our area, outages happen for all kinds of reasons: severe weather, improperly maintained equipment, and even government shutdowns connected to periods of political violence. The result is the same: the lights go out, the internet drops, the phones struggle, and suddenly the simplest tasks become complicated.

When the power is down, it doesn’t just affect the classroom. It limits our communication and can completely shut down the workflow between NTS and our U.S. team, as well as with our vendors, service providers and emergency medical providers. In a school that depends on coordination—supplies, reports, payroll, planning, documents, donor updates—losing power can freeze progress instantly.

The hardest part is the unpredictability.

If we knew outages would happen every day from 2–4 p.m., we could plan around it. But that’s not how it works. The power might go down for ten minutes or ten hours. It might go off right as we’re trying to complete something time-sensitive with our U.S. colleagues—an urgent decision, a financial deadline, a critical document that needs to be sent, a call that can’t be rescheduled. And because the causes are outside our control, you can’t “problem solve” your way out of it in the moment. You can only wait.

Until now.

After weighing the impact of these outages on school operations, our Board made a clear decision: We needed a new generator—one that is efficient, quiet, and reliable. Not a temporary fix. Not a patchwork solution. A real operational backbone that would protect our ability to function even when the grid fails.

And then our Board did what strong Boards do. They came together and raised the funds.

Because of their commitment and follow-through, NTS now has a new generator.  It’s a Maybach MB6000LHEW with dual welding capability, which means it can also be used for welding when the school needs to make repairs to any of our steel infrastructure.  It runs on diesel for up to 8 hours and powers the entire school.

This is more than equipment—it’s a shift in what is possible for our school. For the first time, we are not at the mercy of forces that have felt beyond our control. We have power when we need it. We can keep working. We can stay connected. We can run the school with confidence and consistency.

The benefits are immediate. Our staff can communicate reliably. Our operations can move forward even during outages. Our students benefit as we become more “wired” in how we work—more able to use technology, more able to plan and deliver learning consistently, more able to function like the professional institution we are building.

This is what empowerment looks like in practice: not a big speech, but a practical tool that removes a barrier and unlocks momentum.

And we’re not stopping here.

The next step is solar energy.  So, to be continued…

NTS Library – Meet Luke Kugler, Co-Founder

When the call came for funding to create a student library at NTS, Luke Kugler did not hesitate. At just 15 years old and a sophomore at a US high school, Luke saw an opportunity to make a difference and jumped right in.

Luke joined the NTS community a year ago when he responded to an ad for US teens to become penpals with students at NTS in Kenya through the Marafiki Penpal Program.

Luke was introduced to Wycliffe, a first-year electrical student and their friendship began. Luke looks forward to his communications with his friend halfway across the world and cherishes the relationship between them. Through this connection, Luke became committed to ensuring that Wycliffe and his classmates receive the best educational experience possible. After learning about the library project, Luke decided to take the initiative of reaching out to donors and advocating for NTS. He had no idea that his support for this project would be so powerful.

To kick off the fundraiser, Luke made a commitment by donating $100 of his own money that he earned.  This contribution made a statement to future donors, seeing that Luke truly believed in the mission of NTS.  He set the tone for the campaign and motivated others to make contributions by stressing the value that library resources would bring to the school. Thanks to his efforts, Luke has helped raise nearly $3,000 for the students of NTS who are in the process of selecting books for their new library.

Driven by a genuine desire to help others, Luke finds fulfillment in giving back. He treasures the smile he sees on the faces of the people he has touched and finds nothing more rewarding. He is grateful for the chance to enrich the lives of NTS students while building meaningful connections beyond his community. Through this experience, Luke is gaining first-hand insights into a culture, environment, and society different from his own.

Besides school and working with NTS, Luke’s great passion is fencing – a combat sport that combines strategy, agility, and skill. In fencing, two opponents engage using flexible swords (that do not cause harm), aiming to score points by touching their opponent through intricate maneuvers and blade work. There are three disciplines in modern fencing, each using different variations of a blade and have different rules for engagement. Typically, the first person to score 15 points wins the match or “bout.”

Luke discovered fencing when he was 10 during an after-school program. What began as a casual interest quickly revealed a natural talent. Today, he is nationally ranked in the US and practices 5 days a week. While he acknowledges he doesn’t win every match – and this, he admits can be hard – he always regroups knowing that he has many more opportunities ahead of him. Luke will tell you it takes hard work to master the grace of defeat. He believes understanding his weaknesses ultimately transforms them into strengths.

Looking ahead, Luke intends to remain actively involved with NTS and the library project. It would be a dream come true for him to someday visit NTS and meet Wycliffe and his family. Luke’s aspirations for the future include pursuing a career in either computer science or medicine. But in the meantime, he is driven to find and follow his passions.

To every NTS student, Luke shares this heartfelt message: “Staying in school is crucial. We have one life to experience so make the most of it. Get your education and do what matters to you – find what brings you joy.”

With his unwavering dedication and inspiring outlook, Luke Kugler is truly making a mark on his community and beyond.

Click here learn more about supporting the NTS library.

 

The State of Dental Care in Kenya – Our Vision for Improvements at NTS

by Megha Rana

What is the Issue at Hand?
Kenya faces a shortage of dental workers and dentists, leaving much of the population underserved for their dental needs. According to the Economic Survey, in 2020 Kenya had 1,090 registered dentists. However, following the pandemic around 2023, statistics from the Dentists Association of Kenya indicate that the number of dentists dropped significantly. Today, the estimated dentist to patient ratio is one to 70,000 people. Compare this to the WHO recommendation for a maximum dentist to patient ratio of one to 7,000. The lack of dentists and dental assistants in Kenya has created severe barriers to dental care for the lower and middle classes.

To compound this, the government does not view dental services as an essential part of healthcare, leading to high out-of-pocket costs which those financially struggling cannot afford. Yet, much of the Kenyan population suffers from dental diseases, which can further complicate into life-threatening conditions. An estimated 34% of the Kenyan adult population suffer from untreated dental disease (tooth-related), and 98% of the adult population suffer from periodontitis or gum-related disease. Periodontitis has been linked to respiratory disease, chronic kidney disease, rheumatoid arthritis, cognitive impairment, obesity, metabolic syndrome, and cancer.

NTS Attempts to Create a Dental Clinic
This year, NTS realized that none of our students have ever received dental care and decided to find a dental care partner, with the end goal of creating a clinic. As a long-term volunteer, I offered to take on this task in confidence that I would be able to find outside organizations. The hope was that these organizations would come to NTS to provide dental care or host a clinic at their site. Initially, I reached out to 20 organizations expecting that at least one would have a network through which I could wend my way. I also contacted dental schools, first in our Kisii region and then broadly. Not one dental school replied back.

Barriers, Barriers, Barriers
First, not one dental school responded despite multiple emails sent. The NGO’s I did contact, all had reasons for why they could not help. These ranged from losing funding during the pandemic and downsizing, to closing, to focusing their work on other areas of Kenya. Some lacked the resources to take on new patients, particularly a new school.

What Does this Mean for the Average Kenyan?
Like anyone, I hate to lose a battle. I am a scientist and have contacts to network within the medical world. So, what struck me most intensely was this: How does the low-income Kenyan, with no connections to the dental or medical world, limited phone access, and no internet for research, begin to find help? Who could they possibly reach out to? Even if they have some success, how will they afford treatment when there are few government subsidies? I also wonder about dental organizations and how they must struggle to survive, bombarded with patients and yet not making a dent in the thousands of people who need care. Are they well-supplied? Do they have access to trained clinicians, hygienists, or trained international volunteers? And what happens to communities when the organizations that keep the lives and health of thousands afloat, can no longer survive themselves?

References

Business Daily. “Kenya’s dentist shortage leaves rural poor underserved.” Business Daily. 22 Dec. 2020. https://www.businessdailyafrica.com/bd/economy/kenya-s-dentist-shortage-leaves-rural-poor-underserved-2111646#google_vignette

Gitonga, A. “Kenya faced with shortage of dentists.” Health. 1 Nov. 2023. https://www.standardmedia.co.ke/health/health-science/article/2001459677/kenya-faced-with-shortage-of-dentists

Ogada, Cyril, and Laetitia C. Rispel. ““Dentists are never seen”: Perspectives of key policy actors on multiple job holding among dentists in Nairobi, Kenya.” Jun. 2024, doi:10.21203/rs.3.rs-4518350/v1

Okumu, Brenda A et al. “Geospatial Analysis of Dental Access and Workforce Distribution in Kenya.” Annals of global health vol. 88,1 104. 21 Nov. 2022, doi:10.5334/aogh.3903

Winning, L., Linden, G. Periodontitis and systemic disease. BDJ Team 2, 15163 (2015). https://doi.org/10.1038/bdjteam.2015.163