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Every child has the right to education


The financial and social costs of poor literacy have been well documented (Greene, 2000). The consequences of poor reading and writing skills not only threaten the well-being of individual Americans, but the country as a whole. Globalization and technological advances have changed the nature of the workplace. Reading and writing are now essential skills in most white- and blue-collar jobs. Ensuring that adolescents become skilled readers and writers is not merely an option for America, it is an absolute necessity.


Learning to read and write is a fundamental right. Yet, 38 % of African adults (some 153 millions) are illiterate, two-thirds of these are women.

Africa is the only continent where more than half of parents are not able to help their children with homework due to illiteracy.

Adult literacy rates are below 50% in Benin, Burkina Faso, Chad, Ethiopia, Guinea, Mali, Niger, Senegal, Sierra Leone and The Gambia.

Only 1 % of national education budget of most African governments is earmarked to address the issue of literacy.

The situation is alarming as literacy is a crucial step to acquire the basic skills needed to cope with the many challenges children, youth and adults will face throughout their lives.

For many disadvantaged young people and adults, non-formal education is one of the main routes to learning. Non-formal education reaches people in their own context and ideally in their own local language.

Our Approach and Benefits 

One often-overlooked tool for improving students’ reading, as well as their learning from text, is writing. Writing has the theoretical potential for enhancing reading in three ways. First, reading and writing are both functional activities that can be combined to accomplish specific goals, such as learning new ideas presented in a text (Fitzgerald and Shanahan, 2000). For instance, writing about information in a science text should facilitate comprehension and learning, as it provides the reader with a means for recording, connecting, analyzing, personalizing, and manipulating key ideas from the text. Second, reading and writing are connected, as they draw upon common knowledge and cognitive processes (Shanahan, 2006). Consequently, improving students’ writing skills should result in improved reading skills. Third, reading and writing are both communication activities, and writers should gain insight about reading by creating their own texts (Tierney and Shanahan, 1991), leading to better comprehension of texts produced by others.

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you” Maya Angeolu

is Futsal the future of Football ?

IMG_0211 copyFutsal simply means a modified form of Football (soccer)  played with five players per side on a smaller, typically indoor, pitch or outdoor known as street. This type of football is getting popular day by day as youth are playing it often for fun. Last week we witnessed the end of qualification of Neymar Jr Five global signature football tournament in UAE. More than 250 teams registered to participate in 8 cities of united Arab emirates. The tournament is unique football concept organized by Red Bull in collaboration with 82events and Educationary (Rahza FZE) and sponsored by Dubai Stars, Zaabeel Advertising, Sun and Sand sport and Shop Ship. The uniqueness of the tournament is that unlike normal Futsal or Football there is no keeper in each team and the rules are simple they called it “outplay them all “ which means one player scores the player with the lowest number in the opponent’s team will go out, the game will either finish within 10 minutes or once the other team is being outplayed. In the qualifiers every team will play in the group stages best teams qualified for  knockout stages, quarter finals, semi finals and finals. At the end of each qualifiers two winners were awarded trophies and invitation to play the grand final at Dubai global village on 7th of April to choose the best team that will represent UAE in Brazil this summer. The winner from UAE will meet 34 other winners from different countries in order to compete in the presence of Neymar Jr. Futsal is not as popular as football because they don’t have the likes of Zinedine Zidane, Ronaldo etc but these days is getting more popular among youths as anyone can organize his team of 4 players be it friends, family or coworkers to just play football without the need of any coach or different march officials. Neymar five concept is one of those fun play and it is a street football which is more as it is outdoor. We will be seeing different type of concepts in the coming years.


Join us on 7th of April for the final in Dubai Global to see the lucky team that will go to Brazil to represent United Arab Emirates and compete with 35 other winners around the world.

The top teams you will be seeing are :


Dubai 2 BAZ TEAM
Abu Dhabi 2 NIKE FC
Al Ain  1 CR 7
Al Ain 2 SANTOS A1
RAK 2 23B
Sharjah 1 FIVE GUYS
Sharjah 2 AL-NAHDA
Fujairah 1 AL FASIL
Fujairah 2 Z5

cara mengirim surat untuk sahabat

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Info Obat Obat 

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Info Toyota Medan

Di Indonesia harga mobil Toyota mungkin susah turunnya karena isu brand image, namun di Eropa hal yang terjadi sebaliknya. Toyota baru-baru ini menurunkan harga salah satu varian mobil sportnya, 86.

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Mike and I had known each other for more than twelve years. He was more like a brother to me than a friend and I trusted him with almost my whole heart. We aspired to become writers or filmmakers and most often, I told him, “Hey buddy, someday, I’ll be called the Shakespeare of this era,” we will laugh at it and continue to discuss our dreams.

We attended the same school together and while I finished first, Mike was a slow learner than I was and it was obvious that he was never going to make it through school. So I was sent to a creative writing school where I did an intensive two years course. He was still the same old Mike, dreaming and creating his world best known to him.

One day, I put him into a challenge; I asked him to write out a comedy script in the Hollywood standard from all his claims about screenplays and creative writing. I noticed in awe that he perfectly did not know how to go about it. He had his ideas but he did not know how to place them properly so I took him in and started giving him tips on how to write a script for TV, loglines and all.

It took Mike and I two months to go through with the daily lessons and as happy and self fulfilled as I felt, I put him up on a contest I was selected to for. He was a great success and sooner than I knew, he became famous in the arts. I was proud of him but in a public interview, Mike had boasted of taking out the time to study creative writing. How most times I came to him for assistance.

That broke my heart but when I tried to confront him, he asked me out of his house. We were supposed to promote each other but I was too blind to see his malice. As it is often said, nobility is like hereditary, it is only acquired and not learnt. I started taking up challenges and won several contests until the world wanted to know who was better between Mike and I.

There was a contest for the both of us to come up with our best scripts and with that, I had come up with this story and I titled it The Shakespeare of a New Era. It was recommended and came out best selling for over five years. I had achieved my dreams but when I looked at him, all I saw was the enemy I had grown within


On a cold Sunday afternoon when Mary and James took Kate and Prince to the park as it was routine for the family to go on picnics on weekends, little Kate was astonished to discover something she never would have been able to explain to anyone. “Daddy, look, there’s an owl in the woods. It’s looking straight at us.” She said subtly to her dad but as James paid the lesser attention to her and focused on the painting Prince was doing, Kate felt frustrated and discouraged to report the matter to her mom.

After an hour spent at the park, the family moved home for dinner with some friends and no one bothered to inquire what troubled little Kate. She was disheartened that no one listened to her so she moved up to her bedroom and sought for her dull. She started brushing the hair of her dull… “Are you alone?” Someone asked from the window that was a few inches away from her bed. Kate hopped in fright at the sound of the strange voice with broad eyes she sought to look around.

“Who goes there…?” She bleated and took her dull as her sword and pointed towards the direction she suspected the voice to have come from.

“Don’t be shy child…I am Gordon and I need your help,” said the owl that had perched on her widow pale.

“I knew it…You talked to me at the park this afternoon…What do you want with me?” She asked.

“My people perish from deforestation and I will like you to talk to your dad, he can help us and rebuild our remaining communities…We are a vital community to men and to nature but man is rapidly seizing what is ours,” Gordon said with a weird stare at the little girl.

“So what exactly am I going to tell Daddy?” Kat asked.

“We will be attacking their team by full moon and he has the authority to stop this war. We’re armed and nothing can stand on our way. I care about you and I know how you feel but if he doesn’t listen to you, let him be,” Gordon warned and minutes later, he flew off and varnished in the dark.

Speedily, Kate rushed to the dinner table and reported all that Gordon had told her but no one believed her. They laughed and mocked at her as though she had this fantasy thing going on. “I think I’ll have to start buying her more books than toys,” said James. That night, Kate was awaken by a fluke of the owls that had gathered almost all over the town. They flew in the house in a single file and went straight to her father’s bedroom. Kate was quick to follow closely behind and when Gordon and his army took hold of James, Kate bagged in and begged on her father’s behalf for his release.

At that note, James recommended his team to back off from the deforestation project they had embarked on and to his surprise, his crew members had a similar or worse experience with the owls of Gordon.



It was the last Sunday of the month and I got my family prepared for the grand harvest ceremony at our district congregation. It was a large hall that could occupy over three thousand people with extra space for the ushers to patrol. The whole neighborhood spent the past couple weeks talking about free will donations and voluntary community labor. My family and me had been busy preparing for the upcoming winter season and talks about charity and work was out of the topic for most of us but my wife so believed in that gospel. “Honey you must learn how to give because the more you give the more you will receive…” she said in a convincing tone and to my eight years old daughter was keen enough to grasp but when I looked her in the eyes, I could sense the sort of questions she badly wanted ask. During the meeting, the head of our district put up quite a speech on charity and the believe that if you give out your money and hard earned income, you will get it double by some miracle and BOOM! All of a sudden, armed robbers bagged in the hall with rifles and pistols pointing at everyone. “Heads down on the ground now!” They ordered and we simply obeyed. “Who is the leader here?” one of them asked but the hall was silent. No one showed up and in an attempt to speak, the guy fired at an old woman who sat next to my wife. I stared at the event with open eyes but then, I was convinced that if we gave them what they wanted, they will leave. To my surprise, my daughter stepped up to the pulpit and handed the basket of money to them saying, “here, we believe in freely you give freely you shall receive…We are giving you this money we gathered…” “Hold it there child, that money belongs to us and we worked breathlessly hard to assemble that. Put that away right now,” the leader interrupted. “What are you teaching these good people here? What you can’t practice? Who believes in this theory?” the guy asked and there was another old lady who stood up boldly. Bam! She was shot in the head. “Who else believes in the theory?” he added but the hall was dead silent this time. “Sir, I think my mom does,” my daughter said. “Jane, speak only for yourself I didn’t say a thing like that okay…” My wife responded in sobbing bleats.

Coming Home

After the war, we were all gathered in our camps to wait the new order from the commander. I was out of breath and losing my mind. I only hoped to see my wife again one last time before another war broke out in the country.

She was sitting alone at the porch and just as I had hoped, she was expecting to see me after nine months at the war front. Now I didn’t admire the pets she used to bring home and when I returned, she had cleared the house of all the pets as though she had anticipated what could make me happy.

A week and more, we stayed indoors and on that weekend, she wanted for us to take a walk by the beach. That was how my life got transformed. I was hoping to be out there with my family to get some fresh air of peace and to feel the love and comfort of being home again.

The little corridor at the west end of the street stood cold and void and I could hear the gentle moans of a poppy at the back ground. It was none of my business, I thought to myself but there was this urge that kept talking to me deep inside. I felt like my country was not secured once again and as a man of war, I ran off to the direction where the dog moaned.

The cute spotted poppy looked me in the eyes like a lover would and as I reached my hand gently on its silky fur, there was the touch I never wanted to let go. I squeezed my muscles from the biceps as I smoothed its back with a tender touch, one after one, I touched it, touched its hairy beady eyes and the touch did not seem to stop after all that hate I used to exude on pets, I really could not stop touching to the surprise of my dear wife.

“Honey, this is indeed a touching story of you…” She jested.


As a little girl, I had grown up to know that the rod is meant to straighten up the stubborn tendencies of a child as My dad, Castro, never failed to implement it when he wanted to make his point. He would use it at any point in time if I did something wrong and right after that, he will cite the verse that says that if you spoil the rod, you will spoil the child. Now how I didn’t understand why he had to repeat that phrase to me, I had adapted myself and made certain formulas to dodge away from his rod whenever I wanted things done my way. At eighteen, he still possessed the tendency to use his rod and I wasn’t allowed to make friends with boys. “The only thing that can ever merge you to a guy should be school work, do you understand?” He’d say and I nodded simply, knowing I had a plan to give curriculum excuses whenever Tim showed up in his presence.

He was the brightest in class and I could very well learn a lot of things from him despite my dad. One day, we scheduled a rendezvous and from all indications, father won’t be coming home as early as usual so I’d asked Tim to come pick me up so we could go together for a one on one gala.

Quite unfortunately for me, dad showed up five minutes before the time Tim had to come and pick me up. He sat at the porch reading his newspaper and making certain notes while I stared out the window at my room praying for Tim not to show up. But he did and I could tell from his slow walk that he had been scheming what to tell him once he got close enough. “Good morning sir,” he called out but dad simply nodded and waited for him to declare his reason for visiting. “I’ve come to see Juliet…” He blushed.

Dad didn’t show any signs of nervousness so he called me and right in front of him, he asked, “Why has he come to see you Juliet?” His voice as usual was gruff and my strategy hit me the moment it came to me.

“Oh yes I’d asked Tim to help me with an assignment and I still have his books which I borrowed.” I said. “Oh poor you…Look I have done the home work, I will rather you come to class tomorrow with the novel, See You Another day by Abron Hooks. That’s what we’ll be reading this week.” I said.

“Okay, in that case, don’t forget to come along with those other novels for I haven’t finished reading them…” He said smoothly.

“But you know the tittles don’t you? Since I have a library of novels here…I mean, you could be a little more specific.” I urged Tim in the coded language I had developed.

“Yes, Come with…Meet me at the usual place by Marquees Johnson, Don’t Forget to Text Next Time by Raymond Ham, Come Prepared by James Fried.”

“Is he going to read all these books?” Dad asked after a long stare at the both of us.

“Oh most certainly dad, he’s the brightest in my class.” I said confidently.

“I see, well I have two books I’d like you to read my young man, Never Step Foot to This Place Again By Daddy and Daddy is Not Stupid by Juliet…” He said and waited for Tim to shamefully walk out of the compound.


Betty was a ten years old girl with a beautiful aspiration to lead but the means through which she hoped to have this dream come to pass was nonetheless, the coarsest method of getting most of her friends in trouble on her behalf. Serena being her most loyal mate in the band could swallow up most of her malicious attitudes at school and at home. Cristmass approached and every parent recommended their child to be of positive conduct at school. They were required to bring back good results but as Betty saw herself as queen over subjects like Paul the hen-peck and Serena, she completely felt reluctant to get most of her assignments done.

One day, the English teacher came to class and asked everyone to present their home works but unfortunately for Betty again, she had not done hers and when she was asked why, she blamed it on Serena who had nothing to defend herself with. “I gave her my book over the weekend and she didn’t bring it back to me, look what you’ve done Serena, now I’ll have to face punishment for your crime.” Betty argued but the teacher had punished Serena by transferring her scores for the test to Betty.

That evening, Serena made a solemn wish for Betty to change but there was a condition to this wish. If she didn’t change, Santa will have to skip her room and she will not be getting any gifts this season. On the last day of school, she had purposed to seize her mates’ candies and while she did the search, their English teacher observed with keenness as she bullied at the other weaker pupils and took their candies. At the break out for the holidays, most of the children in her neighborhood ran about with their gifts from Santa at the watch of their parents. Betty felt lonely and isolated at her door step and her English teacher had been watching from a distance.

“Hello Betty, I see you’re unusually all by yourself…Are you okay?” The teacher said.

“Santa didn’t think of me, I feel doomed.” She cried out.

“I tell you what, maybe it’s because you’ve not been nice to your friends lately. Remember Easter is coming. You can start treating Serena nicely and maybe the Eater Bony will reconsider.” Her teacher said quite positively.

“Are you sure?” she bleated in tears.

“You could start right away and you’ll see.” So she ran in and out with a pack full of candies and started sharing with Serena and the rest of them who played in the field meanwhile, her special present waited at her doorstep when she returned from playing. When she opened it, she looked furious and damned the fact that she had been kind for nothing, her present was a pencil and an English text book…

“They will pay double for all my candies,” she groaned and ran off.