More Than a Backpack
By Hariet Mwangi
EFAC Alumna, class of 2024
This is part of a series of reflections from EFAC Scholars participating in EFAC’s Climb Kilimanjaro & Elevate Education Fundraising Expedition.
When I signed up for the Kilimanjaro hike, I was in a very reflective period of my life. I was just about to graduate from the EFAC program and join the alumni. I really wanted to give back to the program for the sake of another child somewhere who, like me eight years ago, was so scared of their education being cut short. And I got the amazing chance to be one out of two scholars to represent EFAC on this incredible project.
The time came after three months of training in the gym and even hiking Mount Kenya, I got to meet an amazing team. The moment I met them, I knew I had to do my best to not let them down—six hikers, three guides, and 20 porters. They were all so athletic and warm. I had never met nicer people and cooler strangers. We quickly bonded and became a team. Everyone was there for one another. Unlike Mount Kenya, this time I felt more prepared. I had been training for this climb. I was also not overconfident because I knew it was tougher. Seven days in the mountains.
Kilimanjaro is beautiful, and it seems many people in the world truly understand that because there were so many people on the trail. The serenity and peace that come with hiking still baffles me. It’s like taking a break from life.
Every day on the mountain was different. Some days we walked more than others. The nights were even colder than what I experienced on Mount Kenya. If you know me, you know I am not even warm enough at home. Now imagine in the mountains?
With each step, I reflected on my journey. Every time I thought about giving up, I reminded myself why I was there: for a child somewhere who is lost and scared about their education. Eight years ago, that child was me. I had no idea what the future held, and yet, through EFAC, I found a path. This hike was my way of paying it forward, to ensure that another child would have the same opportunity that changed my life.
The guides became my lifeline. They walked with us, encouraged us, and ensured we were sage. Every time my legs ached and my spirit wavered, they reminded me to take one step at a time. “Pole, pole,” they would say, slowly, slowly. It was a lesson not just in hiking, but in life. The Tanzanian culture of patience and politeness stood out to me. They carried our loads, cooked our food, and cheered us on, yet they did it with humility and grace. I realized how much strength there is in community, in having people who walk with you through life’s challenges.
Having the porters and guides reminded me a lot of the EFAC mentorship program. I always had people holding my hand and leading me. People who had gone before me and were more familiar with the path. They tirelessly walked with me and reminded me how capable I was and the abilities and talents they saw in me. I am forever grateful to them.
What struck me most about the young porters, some as young as 15, carrying heavy loads up the mountain. Their resilience reminded me of my own journey, the privilege I now carry, and the responsibility that comes with it. With the little I have, I can make a difference. Seeing female porters among them was especially inspiring. They defied expectations, proving that strength knows no gender.
On the toughest days, I found solace in small victories. Reaching the next checkpoint, feeling the warmth of a cup of tea in my frozen hands, hearing words of encouragement from my fellow hikers, all these moments built my resilience. I learned to appreciate the journey, not just the destination. The mountain had a way of humbling me, of stripping away all distractions and forcing me to focus on the present moment. It taught me to embrace discomfort, to push past my limits, and to trust in the people around me.
Each morning I woke up with sore muscles but a determined heart. I carried the weight of my own struggles, but also the hope of a child who needed an education. I remembered my own fear and uncertainty eight years ago, and I walked for that child. The climb was brutal, yet I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I was here, I had this opportunity, and I had the ability to make a difference.
As I stood at the summit, exhausted but victorious, I knew this was only the beginning. The impact of EFAC in my life had come full circle. Now, it was my turn to make sure another child finds their way. This journey was never just about reaching the top, it was about lifting others as I climb.
Coming down the mountain, I carried more than just memories. I carried a renewed sense of purpose. I had seen strength in the eyes of the porters, determination in the steps of my fellow hikers, and kindness in the culture of the Tanzanian people. I had been reminded that with even the smallest effort, I could create change. The climb had changed me, and now, I was ready to use that change to uplift others.
