A few moments after Omar’s call, a figure appeared in the hallway and promptly moved toward them, a woman wearing a dark, loose-fitting robe and colorful green hijab around her head and neck with a face that was young, pleasant and respectful.

“As-Salaam-Alaikum,” she said softly, greeting them.  Peace be unto you.

“Peace be unto you,” replied Omar, glancing past the woman as he briefly noticed another figure in the hallway before it disappeared.

“How may I help you?” the young woman asked politely.

“I am Omar Maher, and this is my fiancée, Mona Baraka.  We phoned yesterday.”

The woman nodded obligingly.  “Yes.  Of course.  We’ve been expecting you.  You asked for some information about our school.”

“We did.  We’re writing a story on the children of Kharga and would appreciate learning about your institution and perhaps meeting some of your children.”

“Of course,” said the woman, smiling and bowing. “We are happy to help.”  She extended her smile to Mona and back to Omar.  “You are both journalists?”

“We are.”

“Wonderful,” she replied, gesturing to the house behind her.  “I am Rehema.  It is my honor to show you around.”

The second half of the dining room appeared as expected: simple, practical and clean, with all chairs neatly arranged around each table.

On the far wall, a door led into a large and equally simple kitchen.

“Our Rainbow of Hope house has been here for several years now helping children from nearly fifty kilometers away.”

“How many children do you have?”  asked Omar.

“Twenty-nine.  Sometimes more, sometimes less.”  She slowly led them through the sitting or sizeable living area before heading back into the hallway and toward the rear of the house.  “But we have helped hundreds since we began.”

The two nodded while continuing to follow.

“It seems like a very…” Omar said, “constructive place for them.”

The young woman briefly turned to face them before cracking a door open to another large room.  This one was a classroom filled with perhaps two dozen children of varying ages.  Nearly all of them silently glanced up before resuming their work.

“Excellent manners.”

“Yes,” she said with a proud smile.  “At Rainbow, we have strong values to ensure our children become healthy, responsible adults someday.”

Omar and Mona nodded in unison and smiled back as Rehema finished closing the door and moved on.  “You have done stories on other orphanages?” she asked.

“Yes,” fibbed Mona.  “But we are more interested in the smaller, more personal schools.”

“Yes, of course.  We have much fewer problems with our children than the larger institutions.”

“What kinds of problems?”

“Nothing I’m sure you have not seen.  Behavioral issues and difficulties adjusting.  Abusiveness between children.  Familied children…”

Mona stopped.  “Familied children?”

Rehema’s expression was matter-of-fact.  “Yes.”

“I don’t… can you explain?”

The younger woman shrugged.  “Most orphans in Africa are not parentless,” she said.

Omar and Mona shared a surprised glance.