* "...the authors sensitively convey Uwitonze's wealth of strength through adversity and the familial love...that helped her navigate her experience." Publishers Weekly, starred review"Touching." Kirkus Reviews"A stunning debut about hope, perseverance, and what becomes possible when you take a risk." Junior Library Guild, Winter 2020 selection"This book deserves a place in every library. It is a testimony to the power of faith and perseverance." Patricia S. Brown, Educational Reviewer, School Library Connection
Her Own Two Feet: A Rwandan Girl's Brave Fight to Walk
Narrated by Mirirai Sithole
Meredith DavisUnabridged — 3 hours, 52 minutes
Her Own Two Feet: A Rwandan Girl's Brave Fight to Walk
Narrated by Mirirai Sithole
Meredith DavisUnabridged — 3 hours, 52 minutes
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Overview
Editorial Reviews
11/08/2019
Gr 4–8—Uwitonze, one of seven siblings, was born with clubfeet in a small village in Rwanda. She got around by crawling until she was seven years old. Eventually, she taught herself—with some help from her younger sister—how to walk on the tops of her feet. Walking was painful, slow, and would likely not be sustainable as she grew into adulthood. Through Africa New Life Ministries, an organization that enables donors to sponsor the education of Rwandan children, nine-year-old Uwitonze traveled to Texas to receive treatment for her feet. She lived with a host family, the Davises, for a year, undergoing multiple surgeries, 58 hospital visits, and 31 casts on her legs. Uwitonze, who navigated homesickness and daunting physical challenges, made tough decisions and persevered. Davis, the host mother, captures the child's humor and resilience. A glossary with select words and sentences in Kinyarwanda, a national Bantu language spoken in Rwanda, is included. Readers interested in hearing Kinyarwanda spoken aloud can find a recording of Uwitonze reading the glossary at
Product Details
BN ID: | 2940174030398 |
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Publisher: | Scholastic, Inc. |
Publication date: | 10/01/2019 |
Edition description: | Unabridged |
Age Range: | 8 - 12 Years |
Read an Excerpt
Rebeka traced the shape of her curled feet through the blanket that covered her and her little sister, Medeatrece. Everybody was asleep and she needed to go to the bathroom. She wanted to go by herself, without bothering anybody, but she was also afraid. Wild dogs roamed the Rwandan countryside after dark and could easily get into her yard. She heard no howling, so maybe they were nowhere near.She wriggled out from under the covers and scooted to the end of the bed. It filled up almost the entire room, wedged between two mud walls with just enough space for the door to swing open.“Rebeka?”“Shhhh, Medea. Go back to sleep,” Rebeka whispered.“I awake!”Rebeka could see the whites of her little sister’s eyes in the moonlit room. She wasn’t going back to sleep.“I have to go to the bathroom,” said Rebeka.“Me, too,” said Medea, scrambling from under the covers.“You’re just going because I’m going.” Rebeka knew she should tell her little sister to stay put, but it would be nice to have some company. Besides, it was hard to argue with a stubborn two-year-old. Rebeka crawled across the concrete floor of their home, following Medea outside. She lifted one shoulder and then the other, letting her arms swing forward like pendulums and then placing them back down. Her shadow stretched strange in the moonlight.“I first!” said Medea, skipping to the latrine. Papa had dug a deep hole a good distance from the house so they wouldn’t smell the stink, and built a small shed around it for privacy.Rebeka listened carefully for howling or snuffling, but all she heard was the soft breath of a cow and the scratch of a goat moving in his stall. No dogs. She crawled quickly across the red dirt yard. She had long grown used to the grit that dug into her skin. She’d spent her whole life on the ground. But the tough calluses on her knees and knuckles couldn’t protect her if she landed in a pile of goat or cow poo, crawling in the dark. She hoped for the best and kept going.“Ow!” She brushed the dirt under her knee and picked up something small and hard. Round on one side, pointy on the other, a kernel of maize. Mama had spread a bunch of ears on a blanket to dry in the sun the day before. Rebeka dropped the kernel and crawled the rest of the way to the latrine.“I done!” said Medea.“Good job!” Rebeka took a deep breath so she wouldn’t smell the stink and crawled inside. It had taken her a while to figure out how to go to the bathroom on her own, but she’d done it. She had figured out how to do lots of things in her first four years of life. After she was done, she and Medea washed their hands in a bucket. The slippery soap was hard to hold, especially since her middle fingers were always curled stubbornly to her palms.Once they were done, they shook their hands dry and hurried back to the house. Their bed was still warm as they settled side by side under the blanket, like two kernels of maize on the cob. Medea reached out and tickled Rebeka’s side. She wasn’t ready for sleep, not quite yet, and neither was Rebeka. Nighttime was the perfect time to whisper, whether it was secrets or stories or dreams or just silliness.It all felt important when it was whispered.“I play chickens,” said Medea.“Tomorrow,” whispered Rebeka. “You can chase the chickens tomorrow. Maybe I will chase, too, someday.”“Rebeka crawl chickens.”“No, run! Like you, Medea.”“How?”Rebeka sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe magic. Maybe doctors. Maybe God.” She touched her curled toes to Medea’s warm feet. “Go back to sleep.”“Ndagukunda, Rebeka.”“I love you, too, Medea.”