This blog post was written and submitted by LifeStraw Program Staff in Rachuonyo South Sub County.
They say every superhero needs a catchy name. Batman has his bats, Superman has his cape, and me? I'm known across Rachuonyo South as "Alulu" a title bestowed upon me by hundreds of enthusiastic learners who associate me with the sacred mantra: "Don't touch the red parts, and dispose that backwash water properly!" Move over, Avengers. There's a new hero in town, and my superpower is ensuring safe drinking water reaches every program school and the two health facilities in Rachuonyo South Sub County.
7:30 AM: The Spare Parts Tetris Championship
My day begins at the service centre, where I face my greatest nemesis: deciding which spare parts to carry. This isn't just packing, it's strategic warfare. Dirty water tank? Check. Cartridges? Absolutely. That mysterious widget that fixes the thing when the other thing stops working? You bet.
The trick is coordination. If you don't plan properly with the schools about what they need, you'll end up looking like a mobile hardware store, carrying everything including the kitchen sink (ironically, we deal with water, so maybe that's appropriate?). Or worse, you'll arrive at a school ready to fix a cartridge issue only to discover they actually needed a simple fix of a loose backwash handle. Proper organization isn't just crucial, it's the difference between being a hero and being the person who carried 4 boxes of unused spare parts on a motorbike through hilly terrain. Trust me, your back will send you strongly worded complaints.
8:00 AM: The Motorbike Chronicles
Now, I must confess something: I know how to ride a motorbike. Theoretically. In practice? Let's just say fear and I have developed a very close relationship. So instead of channeling my inner stunt rider, I embrace my role as a professional pillion passenger. My bike guy is a man of many talents: punctuality being his strongest suit, road sympathy being his weakest. Those murram roads that meander between schools like confused snakes? He treats them like Formula One racetracks. Those hilly landscapes that could legitimately break a hip bone? He views them as minor suggestions rather than actual obstacles.
I've made peace with the fact that every ride is part commute, part extreme sport. The bumps have taught me a valuable lesson in physics: everything that goes up must come down; usually with your spine as the landing pad. But hey, at least we keep time!
8:30 AM: School Number One - Weather Report (AKA Nature's Mood Swings)
We arrive at the first school of the day, and already the weather in Homabay County is showing its true colors. During rainy season, it's like that friend who can't decide what to wear. In the morning, the sun comes out with such intensity that you're convinced it's personally offended by the existence of moisture. I'm talking "could literally roast a stone" levels of heat (not that I've tried, stones aren't particularly edible, and I prefer my lunch to be less... geological).
Then, just when you've reached peak perspiration and questioned all your life choices, the rain arrives like it's been holding a grudge. Suddenly, you're navigating a completely different landscape, one where "road" becomes a generous term for "that muddy area between two schools."
But the passion to serve? That's weather-proof, bump-proof, and stone-roasting-heat-proof. The child, our biggest stakeholder, doesn't get a day off from needing safe water, so neither do I.
09:00 AM: The Grand Entrance (School 1)
Nothing and I mean NOTHING prepares you for the emotional tsunami of walking into a school and hearing hundreds of voices screaming "ALULU!" It's like being a rock star, except instead of guitars, I'm carrying spare parts, and instead of groupies, I have health club officials who are genuinely excited about proper filter maintenance (and honestly? That's way cooler).
These screams aren't just about me, they're about what I represent. Every child knows that Alulu means the LifeStraw Community Purifiers are getting checked, cleaned, and fixed. Alulu means their access to safe drinking water continues. Alulu means someone cares enough to brave the hip-breaking hills and stone-roasting sun to make sure they're healthy.
09:10 AM - 10:00 AM: The Real Work Begins
Once the celebrity welcome dies down, it's time to get serious. Out comes the mWater survey app, my trusty sidekick in data collection. Now, I won't lie: the form is long. Like, "should come with its own intermission" long. But here's the beautiful secret: that length is actually what makes the feedback collection interactive and enjoyable. I sit down with the head teacher, the LifeStraw teacher, or any available staff member at the school or health facility, and we go through everything:
The Inspection Checklist:
- Are the LifeStraw Community Purifiers properly displayed? (Because if learners can't reach them, we might as well have hidden treasure)
- Are they placed on tables? (Floor water is not the move, people)
- Do they have water in them? (Kind of defeats the purpose otherwise)
- Are they under shade? (Remember that stone-roasting sun I mentioned?)
- What's the current condition? Any damage? Malfunctioning units?
I document everything meticulously. Enrollment numbers? Updated. Experiences with the program? Recorded. Challenges? Noted. Suggestions? Welcomed with open arms. Commitments from the school? Written in digital ink. And then comes my favorite part: repairs and replacements. This is where that carefully curated spare parts collection becomes pure gold. A broken tap here, a loose backwash there, and a mysterious leak that makes you question your engineering degree (or wish you had one) I tackle them all. There's something deeply satisfying about arriving at a school with a non-functional purifier and leaving it humming along perfectly. Before I leave any institution, I take photos of each purifier. Not just for documentation (though that's important), but because these photos tell stories. They show the journey from broken to fixed, from empty to full, from inaccessible to perfectly positioned.
Health Club Heroes
Let's talk about the unsung heroes of this entire operation: the health club officials. These young people are not just participants, they're ambassadors. Some of them have more cunning and strategy in maintaining these purifiers than some adults I know. Our continuous refresher training sessions with them aren't just about teaching maintenance procedures. They're about empowerment. These students take ownership of the program, and you can see it in their eyes when they proudly show you how clean they've kept their school's purifiers. They remind their fellow learners about the red parts (don't touch!), they monitor the backwash water disposal, and they report issues promptly. They're the LifeStraw program's best ambassadors, and frankly, they deserve medals. Or at least certificates.
10:15 AM: On to School Number Two (And Maybe Three!)
One school down, but the day is far from over! In a typical day, I visit multiple schools –sometimes two, three, or even more depending on their proximity and the conditions of those "character-building" roads. Each school brings its own unique set of challenges, stories, and of course, more enthusiastic "Alulu!" choruses. The bike guy revs up for another adventure, and off we go. The routine repeats: arrival, grand entrance, inspection, data collection, repairs, health club training, photos, and then on to the next institution. It's like a medical circuit, except instead of treating patients, I'm treating water purifiers and the communities that depend on them. By the afternoon, I've usually visited at least two or three schools, and if the weather gods are merciful and the roads cooperative, sometimes even a health facility gets added to the day's victories. Each stop follows the same thorough process because every institution deserves the same level of attention and care.
The beautiful thing about visiting multiple schools in one day is seeing the ripple effect of the program. School A might have a creative solution for filter placement that I can share with School B. School C's health club might have developed an innovative maintenance schedule that becomes a model for others. Every visit isn't just about fixing what's broken, it's about building a network of best practices across the sub-county.
3:30 PM: The Data Debrief
As the day winds down and my bike guy prepares for another thrilling ride back, I review everything collected on the mWater app from all the schools visited today. The beauty of this system is that it's all there, every detail from every school, every photo, and every piece of feedback. The data isn't just numbers and checkboxes. Its stories of communities gaining consistent access to safe drinking water. It's evidence of behavior change. It's proof that when you invest in proper monitoring, maintenance, and community engagement, sustainable impact happens.
4:30 PM: Reflections on the Ride Home
As we navigate back through those murram roads, I reflect on why this work matters. In Rachuonyo South Sub County, every school and health facility we support represents hundreds of lives impacted. Every properly functioning LifeStraw Community Purifier means fewer waterborne diseases, better health outcomes, and more time for learning instead of illness.
Sure, the challenges are real. The rainy season turns roads into obstacle courses. The sun occasionally makes you question if you've accidentally wandered into a furnace. The hills genuinely might break a hip if you're not careful.But then I remember those screams of "Alulu!" from not just one, but multiple schools in a single day. I remember the health club officials at each institution beaming with pride.
I remember the headteachers expressing gratitude for sustained support. I remember the sight of learners across different communities accessing clean water without fear of contamination. The passion to serve doesn't just block the challenges, it transforms them into meaningful parts of a bigger story. A story where every bump on that murram road leads to another school with safe water. Where every repair means another day of health for learners. Where every training session creates new ambassadors for safe water.
The Bottom Line
Being the LifeStraw Program Sub County Coordinator isn't just a job, it's a calling that comes with its own theme song, sung by hundreds of children who definitely understand the importance of safe water. It's a role that requires strategic thinking, mechanical skills, infinite patience with bumpy roads, stamina to visit multiple institutions in a day, and a genuine love for community service.
To my fellow field officers out there: keep carrying those perfectly organized spare parts. Keep braving those roads. Keep visiting school after school with the same energy and dedication. Keep training those health club champions. Keep taking those documentation photos. And most importantly, keep serving the child, our biggest stakeholder and the reason we do what we do. And if you ever find yourself in Rachuonyo South and hear children shouting "Alulu," just know that somewhere, safe water is flowing, filters are functioning, and one very grateful Sub-county coordinator is making sure it stays that way; one school, two schools, three schools at a time.
Stay hydrated, stay safe, and remember: everyone deserves access to safe water.
