Patricia Newman: Hi! This is Patricia Newman and I'm the author of Neema's Reason to Smile. I'm going to tell you a bit about how I came to write this book and then I'll share an excerpt with you.

Story ideas come from a lot of different places. The idea for Neema's Reason to Smile grew out of a phone call with Donna Rosenbloom, a librarian from New York. One of my author friends suggested to Donna that I would be a good fit for a project about the power of education, so Donna picked up the phone and called me. She told me about Christine Mwende and the town of Mtwapa, Kenya, where many kids are unable to go to school. Sometimes, they're too poor to buy the uniforms and supplies, and other times their parents don't understand the importance of traditional schooling. So Christine opened Jambo Jipya school because she believes everyone has the right to learn. She works with the chief of many Kenyan tribes to convince families that education is the key to a well paying job and a better life. Neema's Reason to Smile is a work of fiction but it's based on the real-life students at Jonbo Jitpus* school who understand the power of education and this is the way the book begins.

Mama and I climb the hill to our favorite rock overlooking the savannah. We dream of the future while elephants take mud baths in the fading light. I want to go to school, but without money, I can only dream.

"You could be a nurse," Mama says.

"Or a scientist!" I say.

We empty our pockets. One coin... then others... until they jingle with the promise of dreams come true. Mama counts out coins for our beans and rice. One lonely cin remains. I put it in the dream basket that Mama and I made for my school money. The next morning Mama balances a heavy fruit basket on my head.

"Off you go little one."

Mile after mile, my bare feet trace the dusty path that unwinds like the cheetah's tail all the way to town.

"Oranges! Mangoes! Bananas!" I call over the rumble of matatus carrying passengers.

"Two oranges here." The corn man drops coins and an ear of corn in my hand. "Still not in school? Do you want to be like me and roast corn your whole life?"

"Mama and I are saving for the government school."

"That school is free," he says.

"But uniforms, paper and pencils are not," I say.

I nibble one corn kernel at a time in the shade of the spice shop. A girl in a red skirt and white shirt gets by. A thought buzzes like a mosquito. The girl wears red and white, but government students wear blue and white. The buzzing grows louder. Is there another school in town?