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“Spill some ghee (clarified butter), that’s all right. But never a drop of water. That is what they said in our village,” 20-year-old Pratap recounts. He has only heard tales. Tales from the time when men would set out for Umerkot early in the morning with empty water bags/vessels on their camels. A trek of 20 kilometres took up to five hours. There they would fill up the bags and return the way they had come from. At home they would empty their water bags into earthen pitchers that stood in their courtyards. Some households had as many as twenty of them so as to cut down on the number of camel trips to the town.

The sweet water from Umerkot was for human consumption only, recalls Pratap. For bathing and washing up, they used the bitter water they got from their wells which everyone affirmed contributed to their skin rash and itching. It was too bitter, even for livestock to consume for which usually the tarai (natural pond) outside the village, sufficed. But it filled only when the rains were good and there had been too many waterless summers that had made these ponds cracked clay. Most families migrated to the barrage area on the western edge of the desert, rich with canals and agriculture where they worked as farm labourers and their livestock fed in the pastures and drank from the canals and ponds.

“Livestock was wealth for us and we could not afford to let them die. There were times when all men would be away with the cattle. Sometimes whole families moved and the village was completely deserted,” says Pratap. He goes on to explain that in such cases they would remain there to take part in either the wheat or cotton harvest depending on the time of year. They would return with bags of wheat and cash as wages just in time to harvest their millets and cluster beans that few men had remained behind to tend.

At the turn of the century, as road networks improved, water tankers began reaching remote villages. Families in Bandi responded by constructing underground concrete tanks, and soon the practice of importing water from Umerkot became a lifeline.

Pratap recalls those early days but cannot say what a single 1000‑litre tanker cost when the system first began. He does remember paying PKR 12,000 (USD 43) for one, before the installation of Bandi’s reverse‑osmosis plant in May 2021, built through the support of a collaborative project by Community World Service Asia, CWS Japan, and Japan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Today, a tanker is needed every five to six days on average, with families spending around PKR 15,000 (USD 53) per month. In the scorching summer months, demand rises, more tankers roll in, and costs climb even higher. For the people of Bandi, it has been a relentless struggle, yet they have paid whatever was necessary, because no price is too great for the water that sustains life.

A combined approach that amalgamates solar powered technology with community-based management systems was harnessed to ensure sustainable access to safe drinking water where many similarly installed plants have become abandoned sites in the middle of sand dunes.

The process includes remote sensing and aerial imagery to identify potential groundwater zones, surveys to assess water quality and quantity, mapping out suitable locations for drilling and installation, and Hydrogeological validation using scientific and indigenous knowledge.

Tests carried out for subsoil water showed a Total Dissolved Solids (TDS) level of near 14,000 which is very high for human consumption and to purify which, a ‘sea membrane’ fitted RO plant was necessary. Work began on the plant and a Water Management Committee (WMC) to tend to RO plant affairs was also set up under the project to ensure community ownership and participation. Just as the year’s warmest months came upon Bandi, the solar-powered RO plant came into action.

“May 2021 put an end to the water tanker’s business from our village. The only time we have ever called for a tanker since then is for weddings when we have guests from other villages,” reports Pratap who heads the WMC.

The best outcome of the RO plant is that children are in school because now families save, on average, PKR 15,000 (USD 53) every month. Also, says Pratap, the quality of food has improved for everyone. Following the installation, each household now has access to approximately 40 litres of safe drinking water per day.

“Now there is no family that only has chilli paste with millet flatbread.” Even better, he says as an afterthought, is the availability of milch cattle in the village year round. “Now we have milk tea and milk for children. I cannot recall a time since May 2021 that I’ve had black tea at home.”

With migration enforced by the need to protect their livestock now obviated, only one or two men per family move to the irrigated areas in March for the wheat harvest. Most family members, especially women, remain in the village to tend to local agriculture, children and cattle. Schools that were deserted every year in March now continue to hum with the activity of children at their lessons.

Every morning with sunrise, the plant fills up the 2000-litre storage tank for the 75 households of Bandi. Outside the little building housing the plant, activity begins early as women stream in with their pitchers followed a little later by livestock with the waiting time reduced to less than three minutes. TDS levels have reduced to around 250 ppm, with water now accessible to village homes within a maximum distance of 300 meters.

But it has been seen that virtually hundreds of RO plants lie derelict and unserviceable after only a couple of years of service. How then does the Bandi plant continue to work five years after installation? “Every member family of the WMC contributes a monthly subscription of PKR 200 (USD 0.72) which is saved for maintenance of the plant. Not even the smallest fault goes unattended,” explains Pratap.

That’s the reason for the smiles in Bandi.

Sindh province in Pakistan is widely known for its vibrant craftsmanship and rich cultural heritage. The region paints a serene picture of its desert landscapes and a myriad of colors seeping through the fabric of local clothes. However, beneath this cultural splendour, many communities grapple with the challenges of inadequate infrastructure and severe climatic conditions. They are at the mercy of recurring droughts, limited sanitation, and an escalating hunger crisis. With annual rainfall often falling below 200 mm, livelihoods are precarious, and poverty is widespread.

District Umerkot is particularly hard-hit, with many residents living below the poverty line. In this struggle for survival, basic needs often take precedence over education and healthcare. Families are forced to prioritise food and water, leaving schooling and medical care as distant concerns. Accessing private medical services is often a luxury, or, in desperate situations, a burden of debt.

In a region where the choice between health and livelihood is a daily struggle, Community World Service Asia (CWSA) has stepped in to provide a transformative solution: a mobile health unit that delivers accessible medical assistance without requiring any sacrifice. For those who have endured years of pain and suffering from untreated illnesses, the introduction of free medical services right in their communities has been nothing short of a miracle. Previously, many had to travel long distances or sell livestock to afford treatment. Now, help is just a doorstep away.

Umerkot has a total of 42 union councils, and three of these, UC Faqeer Abdullah, Seekhro, and Kaplor, come into CWSA’s focus area. There are 153 villages in these union councils, with a combined population of nearly 85,000 people.

The medical camps are open to all; men, women, and children, but it is the women who have voiced the greatest joy and relief. As active caregivers at home and hardworking labourers in the fields, they often bear the weight of exhaustion from long hours of strenuous work, limited rest, and neglecting their own well-being. This relentless strain leaves them with weakened immune systems, making them more susceptible to illness. Common health issues include leg pain, scabies, digestive disorders, and complications related to pregnancy, both antenatal and postnatal, all exacerbated by the lack of clean water and proper sanitation.

In UC Kaplor, there are no hospitals or clinics nearby. The only option is to travel 50 km to Umerkot city, a journey that takes hours on foot under the scorching sun, often with only a small bottle of water for sustenance.

Radha, a mother of five from Kaplor, shared her experience of accessing medical services. “Previously, even for a minor illness, we had to travel all the way to Umerkot city for a check‑up. This journey was not only exhausting but also very costly. The bus fare alone was difficult to manage, not to mention the doctor’s fee and medicine bills.” To add to the hardship, women were not allowed to travel on their own, making it mandatory to be accompanied by a male guardian, doubling the expense.

She recalled how the rickety, overcrowded minivan worn thin by years of use, rattling along broken roads as one of the few lifelines connecting isolated communities to their destination. Those dust, bad air filled journeys had mothers clutching their sick children close to them, to leave them feeling even worse. The entire trip cost nearly PKR 5,000 to 10,000 (USD 17 -35), an amount that could otherwise feed their entire household. For her and countless others, the ‘free’ medical camp meant not only immediate relief but also peace of mind and dignity. Her daughter, who suffered from urinary problems, received free consultation too, reinforcing how important such interventions are when entire families and whole villages carry multiple untreated health issues.

Another recipient of the health camp, Akla, recounted the death of a relative due to the absence of an emergency health facility and lack of reliable transport. She also spoke of her daughter‑in‑law’s emergency C‑section at a city hospital, an ordeal that left the family with a bill of PKR 75,000 (USD 250). “It’s either your property or your livestock,” she said. In their case, it was livestock that had to be sold to pay the bill.

Now, apart from the mobile health units making stops from village to village, the same people battered by sickness, fatigue and torment are able to access what was once a non functional government dispensary revived again in 2025 by CWSA. The distance is cut down to merely 2km and expense to nearly none.

Both the mobile health units and the medical dispensary are staffed by a dedicated team, including a Women Medical Officer (WMO), a Lady Health Visitor (LHV), a Medical Technician, and a Community Mobiliser. This diverse team ensures efficient operations while maintaining cultural sensitivity. The WMO and LHV are responsible for examining and diagnosing patients, while the Medical Technician dispenses prescribed medications. Community Mobilisers conduct health awareness sessions that focus on disease prevention and basic health practices, including family planning counseling. These camps provide primary healthcare services and essential medicines at no cost to the community. Serious cases are referred to the nearest taluka and district hospitals for further diagnosis and treatment.

The doctors and field mobilisers prioritise solutions that are adaptable to the community’s environment and daily routines. They promote safe practices such as boiling water before drinking, frequently washing hands, thoroughly rinsing food, and using simple home remedies alongside prescribed medications.

In recognition of its supportive role, CWSA collaborates closely with the District Health Administration and other relevant stakeholders. Since launching the first camp in July 2025, the initiative has reached 56 remote villages and engaged over 26,000 participants through various project activities. To date, 150 mobile health camps have been conducted across 60 villages, providing curative health services to 17,295 individuals, along with free essential medicines and health consultations.

Additionally, the project team has held 260 health education sessions with 7,712 community members. These sessions have addressed critical topics such as maternal, newborn, and child health (MNCH), child-spacing, hygiene practices, and the prevention of common diseases. Critical cases, including malnourished children, are identified, screened, and referred to specialised healthcare facilities for advanced treatment.

The mobile health units continue to support communities with their health and medical needs. In January of 2026, their latest stop served the brick kiln workers and their families. In collaboration with District Administration and SPARC (Society for the Protection of the Right of the Child), the initiative aimed at providing consultations, treatment, free medicines, and health awareness sessions for a segment of society very much ignored by the system, often working and living in extremely unsafe and unsuitable conditions. They remain invisible to labour protections, denied basic rights leaving them trapped in exploitative conditions with little support from formal systems. During labour, they are exposed to toxic smoke, dust, and fumes from burning wood and coal. This leads to high rates of chronic respiratory illness and other health problems.

Many workers and their families live on or near kiln sites with no access to basic amenities such as clean water, sanitation, or protective equipment, and long working hours under extreme heat only compound these risks. They are often trapped in a cycle of poverty and debt, borrowing from the kiln owners to cover basic needs, including medical expenses, with little chance of ever repaying these loans. In such conditions, health and wellbeing become secondary to survival. During this camp, 256 patients working on brick kiln sites were examined, treated, and provided essential medicine along with prevention awareness.

One worker shared his experience about the long working hours and difficult conditions faced by families at the brick kiln.

“We work here at brick kiln sites for about 12 hours a day, and sometimes even longer,” he said, adding that “most of us belong to poor families and work here together with our entire family members.”

He explained that living conditions at the site are extremely limited. “We do not have proper shelters, sanitation, or health facilities,” he said. He added that survival depends on constant labour, “For our livelihood and daily meals, we have to work very hard.”

Because of these hardships, healthcare becomes difficult to afford. “In such conditions, we cannot afford the additional burden of medical expenses,” they explained, noting that “if my family and I visit a doctor, we have to pay more than PKR 2,000 (7 USD).”

The brick kiln workers expressed appreciation for the medical support they received at the camp. These camps have not only treated thousands of patients but also restored dignity, hope, and resilience to families who had resigned themselves to suffering. The mobile health initiative has demonstrated that when healthcare is brought closer to the people, barriers of distance, cost, and neglect can be broken down, and preventable illness no longer needs to become a lifelong burden. As these units continue their journey from village to village, they stand as a testament to what is possible when communities are prioritised, partnerships are strengthened, and the health needs of even the most remote populations are met with compassion, commitment, and sustained action.

In its fresh whitewash and with its newly painted doors, the dispensary of village Jumo Nohri looks as if it was built recently. But it first opened in 2003 with staff, including a doctor (man), Lady Health Visitor (LHV) and dispenser. Riaz Ahmed, of the same village, says that the arrangement worked well for only about three years. At that time, though the dispenser attended daily, the doctor was assigned for only two days a week. “Even when he was here, he hardly ever worked in the dispensary. Instead, he went around the village to see patients who called him. That was not free; we paid what we could afford,” alleges the man.

Though there is no data of health issues in the area, Noor Muhammad of Community World Service Asia (CWSA) says that at the time of rehabilitating the dispensary they heard of cases of diphtheria and measles because of lack of immunisation. Allah Dad, the government dispenser who has served at the facility since June 2025, explained that past immunisation efforts were poorly managed and ultimately ineffective.

In the brief years when the dispensary functioned in the early 2000s, the absence of a lady doctor meant that women, particularly expectant mothers, had no access to proper care. Families relied entirely on the village midwife, often untrained. For serious complications, patients had to travel nearly forty kilometres to hospitals in Umerkot or Chhachro. While public transport was affordable, emergencies required hiring a private vehicle, an expense of around PKR 10,000 (USD 36), far beyond the reach of most families. Those unable to bear the cost were left without options, often resigning themselves to fate.

By 2006, the dispensary had fallen into disuse. For nearly two decades, it remained largely defunct, staffed only by a part-time dispenser and offering no meaningful services to the community.

In mid-2025, the District Health Officer at Umerkot requested CWSA to revitalise the Jumo Nohri dispensary. CWSA taking charge meant a full staff headed by Dr Misbah Marri, two LHVs, namely Musarat who also doubles as counsellor and social mobiliser and Farkhanda, with medical technician Waqas Ahmed. This staff divides their week in two-day shifts between this dispensary and two others in nearby villages. However, before operations could begin in August, the building being almost ramshackle required a facelift. New doors and a fresh coat of whitewash changed the aura of the facility.

Dr Misbah Marri says that she treats some 40 to 50 patients a day on her two days in this dispensary. The most common complaints she has to deal with are skin and gastro-intestinal problems which she attributes to contaminated water. Then there are respiratory tract infections, especially during the colder months of the year. Her patients come from about a dozen nearby villages whose collective population is between 10,000 to 12,000. Since this catchment is covered by the three dispensaries that CWSA manages, patients are within range of medical assistance six days a week. According to the doctor, she and her staff focus on mother and child health, ante and post-natal care, women in general and elderly and special persons.

“We have many antenatal cases of severely malnourished women,” says Dr Marri. “Deficiencies such as in B complex and folic acid result in malformed babies. As well as that, for the same reason, we hear of so many miscarriages.” The doctor who has been with CWSA since 2023, is of the view that Thar is particularly affected by these disorders. Between the months of August 2025, when the CWSA team began work here and November, she noticed a marked improvement in general health of women, especially pregnant individuals, because of the supplements they are being administered on a regular basis. However, she says there are still cases that have to be referred to the government’s Peoples Primary Healthcare Initiative.

Waqas Ahmed, a medical technician with Community World Service Asia (CWSA), explains that poverty has long prevented local families from accessing even basic health supplements. Many relied on traditional home remedies, which offered little relief. Under previous government arrangements, essential medicines such as the antibiotic syrup Augmentin were available only at a cost of PKR 800 (approximately USD 3) per pack, far beyond the reach of most villagers, who endured their illnesses in silence. Today, with these medicines provided free of charge, the community has seen a marked decline in respiratory tract infections.

Lady Health Visitor (LHV) Musarat, who also serves as a social mobiliser, has been conducting regular health awareness sessions in the area. In her four months of service, she has observed a troubling pattern.

She narrates the case of a woman brought in on a camel cart because she was unable to walk even if assisted, leave alone walking on her own. She was bleeding heavily when Dr Marri and LHV Farkhanda provided her first aid for high blood pressure. During treatment the patient fainted but was soon stabilised and referred to Civil Hospital, Umerkot. In November, the woman was in the pink of health, according to Musarat.

Farkhanda relates the case of a woman named Zainab who was so weak from under nourishment that she could not even speak. She was severely anaemic and the doctor suspected heavy intestinal helminth infection. She was administered a drip and given necessary anti-helminth drugs as well as vitamin supplements. She too visits the health facility on her own now along with her two children.

Riaz Ahmed of the village says that since the CWSA intervention, the Jumo Nohri dispensary has been a boon for local women. He says it is a first-class facility right at their doorsteps. Earlier, the nearest facility for them was the Umerkot hospital, almost 45kilometres and a considerable expense away. But that does not mean that men are not benefitting, he adds. “We too get quality medication and for which we pay nothing.”

Though Kumbhar Bhada lies only 45 kilometres east of Umerkot town, its setting among vast sand dunes gives it the feel of a remote desert settlement. Home to around a hundred families, all of whom are Muslim, the village has long struggled with limited educational facilities. Two government schools exist, one co-educational and another for boys, but opportunities for girls have remained scarce. In the early years of this century, the government allocated a single room to function as a girls’ school. For a community where families often have ten or more children, this provision was far from sufficient, leaving many girls without access to meaningful education.

No official teacher was appointed, however. In this vacuum, an NGO sent a woman teacher to work in the village. This private project lasted some five years and with its end the school closed down in 2007. Though some rare girl students joined the boys school, most simply dropped out and became their family’s help in household chores or in the fields. In a nutshell, since about 2007 there was no girls’ school in the village. For parents, themselves generally uneducated, this was no significant setback. Girls at home meant they could be gainfully employed with the parents to help at home and in the fields. However, there were also those rare parents who wanted their daughters to be educated.

In January 2024, community elders appealed to Community World Service Asia (CWSA) to revive the abandoned girls’ school and bring it back to life with a dedicated teacher. Responding to this call, CWSA appointed a qualified woman teacher and equipped the school with resources to make learning both meaningful and enjoyable. Children were introduced to sports equipment such as hoops and balls, and delighted in the novelty of a steel frame fitted with two swings. Classrooms were enriched with colourful teaching aids, foam blocks marked with alphabets and numbers, along with picture books, transforming lessons into engaging experiences.

Another highlight, under a sister project also implemented by CWSA, was the introduction of a school feeding programme, ensuring that every child received a nutritious lunch. The menu varied daily, with vegetables and lentils forming the staple, and chicken biryani served once a week, a meal that not only nourished but also brought joy to the students. This initiative helped safeguard children from malnutrition and encouraged regular school attendance.

As the single classroom could not accommodate cooking and serving, the community rallied together to expand the facilities. A hut was built beside the classroom to serve as a dining area, while a small shed became the cookhouse. The village community centre was also handed over to the school, repurposed as a pantry. These collective efforts created a welcoming environment where children could learn, play, and thrive.

Rather tentatively the attendance register listed some 35 students in the first week. Numbers slowly ticked upward and soon there were 80 until the rolls now stand at 120. As the students take their classes in the single room, two local women in the hut adjacent to it prepare lunch. During the break, the students take turns, 20 at a time, to be fed.

Gulshan, third among five sisters and seven brothers, is in Grade 2 and says she is eight years old. She started classes some years ago in the coeducation school, but soon dropped out. She has no idea if her parents thought it improper to her, a grown girl even at the age of eight, to be studying with boys, but she says she was put to work helping her mother with household chores. During the farming season, she went with her parents to their small holding where she minded her younger brother while the parents worked.

Though one of her older brothers takes local transport to Kaplor, six kilometres away, to attend school in Grade 5, none of her other sisters are in school. Some of her younger siblings do attend the local mosque for religious lessons, however. Quite clearly her family is not one that lays any great merit on girls’ education.

Gulshan has been in school since it restarted in January 2024 and in almost two years has worked her way to Grade 2. In between, her attendance became irregular and she relates that her parents would take her to work in the fields. Outside of farming season, when her father goes to work in a confectionery shop in Karachi, her mother insists she stays home to help with housework. She says she wanted to be in school and it was only after much pleading with the elders that she was able to resume classes. She affirms that she will continue to attend school even if the lunch programme comes to an end when the CWSA project ends in 2026. She has to fulfil her dream of being a doctor one day.

Eleven-year-old Ayaza, the third among three sisters and six brothers, carries a story marked by resilience. Living with a polio-affected leg that causes her to walk with a limp, she refuses to let this challenge define her. In fact, she considers herself fortunate compared to one of her brothers, who suffers from polio in both legs and can only crawl. When her parents are busy tending their small plot of land , where Ayaza also lends a hand, her father supplements the family’s income by working as a labourer on construction sites. For the family, however, education has never been a priority. Only one of her brothers attends the local boys’ school, leaving Ayaza and most of her siblings without access to formal learning.

When asked about her future, eleven-year-old Ayaza speaks with quiet conviction. After completing Grade 7, she dreams of becoming a teacher. Her heart is firmly set on this path, and she insists she will do whatever it takes to achieve it. For Ayaza, the daily school lunch is not the only motivation to attend classes; she carries with her higher ambitions and the hope of shaping young minds one day.

For Grade 2 students, both girls read surprisingly well from their primers. Even random pages are read fluently. This surely is a reflection on the efficiency of the teacher and her teaching methods.

In the two years since CWSA rehabilitated the school, a Children’s Day and a Cultural Day festivals have been held. Both events were fun-filled days of games and eats attended by students of the other two schools as well. According to the parents, despite the schools functioning since the mid-1990s, these events were the first such to have ever taken place in the village. It seems this might be the reason parental interest in their children’s education has risen and the students are not being withdrawn to help at home.

As the CWSA project draws to an end in late 2026, the school will be handed over to the government and a lady teacher appointed here. Going by the yearning for education seen among the students, it is clear that the village committee will raise a clamour in the event of government apathy. Surely children like Gulshan and Ayaza and all the others who dream of being useful adults need to be given the chance to prove themselves.

In 2016, Nangar of Mallay ji Bhit died of tuberculosis of the lungs. In his final weeks, he was also haemorrhaging violently from the nose and mouth and had to be hospitalised in Karachi. In that trying time, Ameenat tended to her home and five daughters while her only son looked after the ailing father in the hospital. Ameenat says her husband’s hospitalisation cost the family about PKR 400,000 (approx. USD 1428).

She sold her two buffalos, one cow, three goats, a donkey and the cart to pay for the treatment. But when she was left with nothing more to sell, she borrowed from family and friends. Sadly, Nangar’s illness was so far gone that there was no coming back and when he passed away, Ameenat was under a debt of PKR 250,000 (approx. USD 893) and with no assets. She was lucky that her relatives wrote off their loans to her. There still remained a substantial sum owed to others. She and her eldest son eventually repaid after much hard work over three years during which she worked as a sharecropper, while her son tended other people’s livestock.

Ameenat’s most handy skill is mud plastering of houses for which she is called by householders in the village. As well as that, during season she goes chilli pepper or cotton picking which fetches PKR 500 (approx. USD 1.79) for every 40 kilograms picked.

Between 2021 and 2024, things were comparatively better for her and she wedded off her son and two of the older daughters. To complete the count, she says, she still has to wed three more girls. Now with her son working as a helper on a waste management truck for PKR 15,000 (approx. USD 54) a month, she was always worried it would take a long time to arrange the necessary dowry for the girls.
“My son gives me Rs 5000 to 7000 [approx. USD 18 to 25] a month from his salary. But that is only enough for household expenses, not to put away for dowry,” says Ameenat.

Her fortune changed when she became one of the participants under a food security and livelihoods initiative implemented by Community World Service Asia (CWSA) and financially supported by Diakonie Katastrophenhilfe (DKH). In October and November 2024, she received the first two installments of multi-purpose cash assistance under the project. That year, her portion as sharecropper was reasonable and the cash was used partially for food while the bulk was spent on dowry items. It was the goat that came with the package that was the biggest boon because it soon delivered a very healthy kid.

Ameenat says she would normally have worried about the health of her goat in the dry season starting in March, but in 2025, she had hydroponic fodder to augment the dry fodder she had saved from the past harvest. The kid gambolling around her yard looks very healthy and she says though it is now weaned, it had plenty of milk when it needed because of the green fodder she was trained to grow. The bonus was the supplemental feed for the goat which also increased its milk production and she was able to have her own supply for morning and evening tea.

The kitchen garden was another great bonus. Since the death of Nangar, the family rarely had vegetables to dine on but that was not the case now. This was only when her son came home for a day or two and brought a supply from town. In November 2025, she was preparing her little patch for the third round of gardening.

“We used to have homemade chilli and garlic chutney with chapatti [flatbread] because we could rarely afford vegetables. But now there is so much and in such variety that when vegetables are in season we always dine well and also give away to others,” says Ameenat. She is proud that she now entertains visitors with good milk tea and excellent vegetable stews.

“Since this intervention, our life has changed for the better. I can now look forward to buying my own livestock again. If luck holds out I will have at least one buffalo in good time,” says Ameenat.

At Community World Service Asia, school meals go beyond filling plates; they nurture growth, learning, and well-being. As Sphere’s Regional Partner in Asia, we integrate Sphere food security and nutrition standards into our school feeding project, supported by PWS&D and CFGB, to ensure every child receives safe, balanced, and culturally appropriate meals.

Our approach focuses on:

  • Assessing nutrition and food security to meet children’s real needs
  • Preparing meals with locally sourced, balanced ingredients
  • Upholding hygiene and food safety at every step

By combining care, local knowledge, and international standards, children are eating healthier, attending school more regularly, and thriving academically.

Because when meals are made with care, children learn better, grow stronger, and dream bigger.