For over forty years, she has been the director of a small private school. Not a large institution
with abundant resources, but a modest school built on commitment, sacrifice, and love for
children. Day after day, year after year, she showed up—not for recognition, but because she
believed that education could change lives.
There were no shortcuts in her journey. Only consistency.

She taught, guided, corrected, encouraged. She welcomed generations of children, many of
whom returned years later as adults—grateful, transformed, and carrying with them the seeds she
had planted. Her work was never about titles. It was about responsibility.

My father, too, was an educator.
In his own way, he carried the same belief: that knowledge is something to be shared, and that
teaching is an act of service. Together, without ever making speeches about it, my parents built a
life centered around learning, discipline, and dignity.
Growing up in that environment, I did not always realize what I was witnessing. It felt normal. It
felt like everyday life.

Only later did I understand that what I had seen was dedication in its purest form.
Today, as I work to build the Ecole Communautaire Barraud in Thiès, Senegal, I do so with
that same spirit. Not to replicate their path, but to honor it. To continue something that started
long before me.

This project is not just mine.
It is part of a family story—one that believes, quietly but firmly, that education matters.
And if I can contribute even a small piece to that legacy, then I am already on the right path.