Excerpt by Juliet Cutler, FAUSA
Interview by Mary Adams, AWC The Hague
Since its founding, the International Women’s Writing Guild (IWWG) has championed the power of women’s voices, ensuring they are heard, celebrated and shared. In 2025, its anthology efforts align with the 69th United Nations Commission on the Status of Women. This event is a call to action, reminding us of the power of storytelling to illuminate the 12 critical areas of concern outlined in the Beijing Platform for Action – from education and health to climate justice and human rights. The 2025 IWWG Anthology, supported by The de Groot Foundation, brings together voices from around the world to reflect on these themes.
Women from FAWCO took the opportunity to share stories with IWWG that touched on 11 of the critical concerns: Human Rights, Education & Training, Poverty, Economy, Health, Power & Decision-Making, Institutional Mechanisms, Environment, Violence Against Women, Media and the Girl Child. The Human Rights Team is proud to publish these works and interviews with the six authors in the coming months.
The fourth instalment, “A Brighter World Led by Women” is an excerpt from Juliet Cutler’s new book, Lessons in Hope: A New Era for Maasai Women in Tanzania. This excerpt focuses on Solar Sister, a non-profit organization in Tanzania that empowers women by enabling them to become entrepreneurs in the clean energy sector. Juliet shares how Solar Sister is transforming the role of women in rural communities by building confidence and leadership on the pathway to greater autonomy and opportunities.
Excerpt
On a sunny Sunday afternoon, it’s relatively quiet in Arusha’s leafy Njiro neighborhood – a place where fancy supermarkets, salons, restaurants, and hotels cater to wealthy locals and expatriates alike. Located just southeast of downtown, Njiro has long been a regional center for Tanzania’s nonprofit sector, which remains robust in the Arusha Region. Conservation, community development, and social service organizations provide critical services to people in need and advocate for the region’s significant natural resources, which include not just the famous Serengeti National Park but also more than twenty other national parks and conservation areas that encompass nearly one-third of the country’s land mass. Arusha’s Njiro neighborhood serves as a springboard for much of this activity.
As we drive through the neighborhood, imposing gates guard sprawling bungalows and modern offices. Small local initiatives exist side by side with international heavy hitters, such as World Vision and the African Wildlife Foundation. Somewhere between these extremes is a modest-size nonprofit called Solar Sister.
With a regional office in Arusha, Solar Sister works to fight energy poverty in Tanzania and other sub-Saharan African countries by promoting solar energy in places where people live off the power grid and are reliant on firewood and kerosene for cooking, light, and warmth. As the organization’s name suggests, Solar Sister reaches these remote places by creating sisterhoods of local women who sell solar energy to their neighbors, creating a two-for-one impact by providing economic opportunities for women and bringing clean energy to places where people live in deep poverty and lack access to the power grid.
Solar Sister’s two-story office building is located just a block off Njiro’s main thoroughfare in a quiet corner of the neighborhood. As if harkening to its very mission, the organization’s office building is painted a bright sunshine color. It’s surrounded by lush green trees and plants. Though largely vacant on a Sunday afternoon, the office has a vibrant, welcoming feel, as does the woman who walks up to greet us as we pull into the building’s small, gravel parking lot.
We are here to interview Agness Joseph Porokwa – an accomplished graduate of the first secondary school for Maasai girls in East Africa and Solar Sister’s program manager in Tanzania. Dressed in a leopard-print top and black slacks, Agness’s hair is cut into a short bob, her fingernails are immaculately manicured, and she wears a flattering, deep purple shade of lipstick. While her appearance projects modern professionalism, Agness’s demeanor is friendly and soft-spoken, her smile warm and kind. As we stand in the parking lot, she introduces herself to the interview team and shakes each of our hands before leading us upstairs to Solar Sister’s office.
While the videographer sets up his equipment, I take in Agness’s place of work – a large, open room with desks and chairs scattered about to create a common workspace. Boxes of solar panels and lanterns are stacked around the perimeter of the room, and promotional materials adorn the walls. I can tell this is a functional, busy place that houses several employees; I suspect they spend as much time here as they do out in the field, well outside the comforts of Arusha’s Njiro neighborhood.
Solar Sister’s success is evident in the vibrant images that lend the room intimacy and purpose. Many women featured in the photos wear orange Solar Sister T-shirts. Some stand with their arms slung over each other’s shoulders, big smiles on their faces. Others hold solar lanterns, visibly delighted to demonstrate their use. One image I linger on features a group of children gathered around a table strewn with books. Though the background is dark, the children are studying by the light of a solar lantern.
A poster behind the desk where Agness has taken a seat depicts the United Nations’ seventeen Sustainable Development Goals. Even though I do not yet fully understand the work that Agness and Solar Sister are doing in Tanzania, it’s clear that they’re working toward several of these lofty international goals, including “affordable and clean energy,” “gender equality,” and “no poverty.”
Agness watches me closely as I study the images around the room. She’s eager to share about her work, and even before we begin the recorded interview, she starts telling me about the various people and groups pictured around the office.
“We recruit, train, and support women to be the suppliers of clean energy in their communities,” she says as she points to a picture of ten or so women gathered in a happy-looking group. “These are participants in one of our training seminars.”
I ask her to tell me more about the women in the photograph. She looks at the image as she speaks, and I can tell by the soft expression on her face that she knows these women and their stories personally. “Imagine you are one of these women who wakes up and goes to bed without reliable power. To make dinner, you must start early, because it takes time to collect wood to make a fire. Your eyes sting and your lungs hurt from the woodsmoke every day. You wash dishes in the dark by the light of a kerosene lamp. The burden of energy poverty falls on these women”—she points at the image again—“but at Solar Sister, we are changing this.”
A wide smile extends across Agness’s face and her eyes light up. With this brief introduction to her work, she’s hooked me. I want to know more about how Solar Sister is changing the equation for the women whose images surround us. We’re ready for the interview at just the right moment, and as the camera starts to roll, I prompt her, “Tell me about your work at Solar Sister.”
Her eyes still alight, Agness begins: “I work as a country program manager at Solar Sister Tanzania. We are working across the country with women to eradicate poverty through the clean energy industry. How do we do this? We have employees in every district. We call them business development associates. Their job is to recruit, train, and support women. The women we recruit live in places without electricity. Only 63 percent of Tanzania is covered by electricity, so there are many places that are totally untouched. They have no government services or hospitals or electricity. We go there. We spend time with women, and we teach them the benefits of solar energy.” She picks up an orange lantern with a solar panel on top. “For example, this small solar lantern costs 12,000 shillings [about $4.60]. If a woman buys this lantern, she can save on the cost of kerosene every day and use that money for something else. She will bring cleaner air into the house. She can extend the hours for her children to study. She can have extra hours to do her work.”
Agness points to another image on the wall, this one showcasing five women, each of them holding a different part of a solar system. One has a small solar panel; two hold LED lamps; another has a battery; the last holds a cluster of charging cables. “For a woman who can buy a phone-charging product like this one,” Agness says, pointing to the woman holding the cables, “she can make money by charging the phones in her community. She can charge ten phones each day for 200 to 500 shillings each, and that’s a little bit of income [about $2 per day]. In the village, that’s actually not a small amount of money. It can buy something else to support the family.”
I quickly grasp the ways in which a single solar lantern or a small solar system can improve life for a woman who lives without electricity. I want to know more about how Solar Sister is creating networks of women entrepreneurs who are more broadly promoting clean energy in Tanzania, so I ask Agness to tell me more about that aspect of the organization’s work.
“Solar Sister does not manufacture solar products,” she explains. “We buy from suppliers that provide a two-year warranty, so we make sure our solar products are reliable. We buy the products and then sell them at a reduced price to women who are interested in starting clean energy businesses. Our prices ensure that entrepreneurs will make 18 to 20 percent on each product they sell. These women are already embedded in remote communities or places where people can’t afford to connect to the power grid, so they are perfect ambassadors for clean energy. These women are trying to create a change. They are improving life for other women and families.”
She shows me a black bag with a Solar Sister logo on the front. She pulls out promotional brochures, a receipt book, and a cash bag. “Our entrepreneurs get all the tools they need to start a small business. They are trained in a sisterhood group of five to ten women. They go through twelve modules that are designed to help them grow a business while also building their confidence. Every month has its own specific topic. So, the women benefit personally from using solar power, and then, by creating a small business, they benefit even more. Beyond this, they gain courage and confidence. We build leaders in the community. They inspire each other. We see the difference. We see how women are transforming from one stage to another.”
When she pauses to catch her breath, I find myself so inspired by her work that I can’t help but interject, “Agness, you must be so proud of your work. It’s clear you are changing lives.”
She smiles bashfully and looks away, but her enthusiasm has already said it all. She obviously finds her work rewarding and is delighted to share Solar Sister’s innovative model – one that brings electricity to women but also gives them newfound skills and confidence. I know that Solar Sister serves a population of women who have had few opportunities for growth and success; I suspect the sisterhood model provides a source of encouragement even beyond what I can imagine, and I can’t help but reflect on the sisterhoods that have uplifted me over the years. “There isn’t much a group of women can’t do when they put their heads together,” I say to Agness, and we both smile because we know it’s true.
Agness places her hands on the desk in front of her. “Our vision is to see a brighter world led by women,” she says with passion. “That’s what we really want to see. It doesn’t matter how long it takes, but that’s the vision. That’s what we want to see.” She nods and smiles, letting a little silence surround that statement.
As a segue into talking about her life before Solar Sister, I ask Agness if her upbringing prepared her for this work.
“The village where I grew up is called Emboreet,” she tells me. “It is in the Simanjiro District of the Manyara Region, and many people there struggle with poverty, so of course I understand the challenges many women face personally. When I was a young girl, I really wanted to go to school, but it was difficult to get money to pay for it. My mom and dad believed in education and wanted me to be educated, but the challenge was income. We had no money. We had no cows. We had no support. When I graduated from primary school, I was asking, ‘What’s next?’ Fortunately, I was selected for a scholarship at the Maasai Secondary School for Girls. I was among the lucky ones who got the chance to pursue an education and gain other skills. Who would have thought I would go to college and study community and gender development? Among the Maasai, not many girls get the opportunity to go to school, so you can spot them.”
While it is difficult to gather accurate demographic data about the Maasai, most estimates suggest that fewer than 50 percent of Maasai girls enroll in primary school, and only 10 percent of girls make it to secondary school. The Maasai are one of more than 120 cultural groups in Tanzania, and they remain among the poorest people on the planet. Maasai women and girls like Agness often bear the brunt of this poverty. They rise early to milk cows and goats. They cook, clean, and care for children without access to running water or electricity. Many must walk miles just to get the minimum amount of water required to sustain their families. They live in austere, mud-walled homes in places where access to healthcare is limited and preventable diseases are prevalent. Too many Maasai girls still endure female genital mutilation and forced child marriages as early as age ten or eleven, though both practices are illegal in Tanzania.
These challenges mean many Maasai girls are unable to attend school. Some are denied access because their families see more value in a dowry than in an education. Others can’t afford even basic school supplies. For many, the workload at home means they don’t have time to study. Yet if you ask most Maasai girls like Agness if they want an education, they will emphatically tell you that they do. They know it is a pathway out of poverty and into a life where they will have fewer challenges and more choices.
In the late 1990s, a group of Maasai elders began discussing how to help their people face escalating challenges in a rapidly changing world. These elders knew that in order for the Maasai people to endure in the twenty-first century, they would require different skills and ways of being. They believed that the Maasai needed more access to education, and that girls required a special school that would honor their cultural identity and maintain Maasai traditions. And so the Maasai Secondary School for Girls was born in partnership with Operation Bootstrap Africa, a US-based nonprofit that would fund the school’s construction and operation.
In 2025, the school celebrates its thirty-year anniversary. Agness is one among hundreds of graduates who are now advancing positive changes within their own lives, communities, and country. Even with all the progress the school has made in educating Maasai girls, I know Agness is right—there is still more work to be done.
“Those few educated girls, they really need to go back to the community and contribute in a positive way,” Agness says. “This is what I’m doing through Solar Sister.”
Like most graduates of the Maasai Secondary School for Girls, Agness feels her education requires more of her – that with her good fortune has come a responsibility to give back to her community so that more women and girls can have the opportunities she has had.
“In my home district – Simanjiro District – we gave seven midwives these big solar lanterns,” she says. “This is an example of women helping more women. The midwives can help women who are delivering at night. The impact is exponential. In 2020, a donor gave one hospital in every district a solar system. That had a big impact. I’m helping to do something for the community. Even if I’m touching only one person’s life, at least I’m helping. That is my dream for my two children, too, that they grow up willing to change somebody’s life. That is what I pray for them.”
As we close the interview, I tell Agness how inspired I am by her work. She and Solar Sister are changing people’s lives across Tanzania – 2.3 million of them, in fact, which is the number of people Solar Sister has reached since its work began in 2013. Together, Agness and a sisterhood of women are lighting the way, literally transforming poverty into power.
Author
This essay is adapted from Juliet Cutler’s book, Lessons in Hope: A New Era for Maasai Women in Tanzania, published this month. In this inspiring collection of interviews and portraits, over twenty Maasai women share the ways education has transformed their lives by giving them the tools to overcome poverty and empowering them to make profound differences in their communities. As graduates of the first secondary school for Maasai girls in East Africa, these thriving leaders now hold positions in education, health care, nonprofits, government, and business. Their stories reveal a veritable cadre of Maasai women working toward positive change within their own culture and offering a compelling, optimistic vision for the future. Proceeds from the sale of this book support education for Maasai girls.
Interview with the Author
I believe that storytelling and solidarity go hand in hand. When we truly listen to each other’s stories – across borders, cultures and experiences – we build a more compassionate and just world. I’m grateful for the opportunity to contribute to this anthology and to continue walking alongside those who are making hope real, one story at a time. I also appreciate FAWCO’s ongoing commitment to human rights. It’s one of many reasons I'm a member of FAUSA.
Why did you choose to participate in the IWWG anthology reflecting on Beijing Platform for Action progress?
The Beijing Platform for Action was a landmark moment in the global fight for gender equality, and its call to action still resonates deeply today. I chose to participate in the IWWG anthology because I believe we must continue to measure our progress – and hold ourselves accountable – when it comes to women’s rights. Through my work in Tanzania, and especially through the stories I share in my forthcoming book, "Lessons in Hope," I’ve seen both the incredible strides we’ve made and the challenges that persist. This anthology provided an opportunity to reflect on that tension and to uplift voices from the frontlines of change.
How do your personal experiences influence the way you approach human rights topics in your writing?
My writing is deeply rooted in lived experience. When I first moved to Tanzania in 1999 to teach at a school for Maasai girls, I knew I would learn a lot, but I didn’t anticipate how profoundly I would be changed. Those experiences – bearing witness to the power of education, the courage of young women standing up against forced marriage or female genital mutilation (FGM), and the bonds formed across cultures – became the foundation for my writing and my advocacy in Tanzania. I approach human rights not as abstract issues but as deeply personal, human stories of resilience and transformation.
Can you describe how your background – whether cultural, academic, or professional – shapes your views on human rights for women?
I come from a background in education, storytelling, and nonprofit work, and all three have shaped my perspective. As a teacher and curriculum designer, I’ve seen firsthand how education can transform lives and communities. As a writer, I understand the importance of amplifying marginalized voices and using stories to foster empathy, challenge injustice, and build connections across divides. As an exhibit developer, which in many ways is a form of storytelling, I help create public experiences that center marginalized histories and deepen understanding across cultures. Whether I’m designing an exhibit for a First Nation or writing about the experiences of Maasai girls in Tanzania, I approach each project with the same goal: to foster empathy, elevate dignity, and inspire action. And through my work with organizations like Operation Bootstrap Africa and Eripoto for Girls & Women, I’ve had the privilege of partnering with grassroots leaders who are making real change. Culturally, I grew up with certain privileges I wasn’t even aware of until I lived in Tanzania. That contrast continues to inform my commitment to equity and justice.
What role do you think storytelling plays in human rights advocacy and creating social change?
Storytelling is one of the most powerful tools we have for building empathy and inspiring action. Facts and statistics can tell us what is happening, but stories help us understand why it matters. In both of my books, I focus on individual women and girls who are navigating systems of inequality – and who, in many cases, are rewriting the narrative. Their courage and agency are what move readers, challenge assumptions, and create openings for deeper conversations. I believe storytelling makes human rights real, personal, and impossible to ignore.
How do you see the role of authors evolving in the human rights movement, especially with the rise of digital media and social platforms?
The digital age has expanded the reach of writers, but also increased our responsibility. Authors now have powerful platforms to not only tell stories, but to engage audiences in dialogue, support grassroots movements, and elevate underrepresented voices. We’re no longer just storytellers – we're collaborators, advocates, and bridge-builders. I see this as a positive evolution. Through social platforms, I’ve been able to stay connected with the communities I write about, share updates about ongoing work, and support organizations like Eripoto in real time.
What impact do you hope your work will have on public awareness or attitudes toward human rights for women?
My deepest hope is that readers walk away with both a broader understanding and a deeper sense of connection. I want people to see the dignity and strength of women and girls around the world – not as victims, but as agents of change. I also hope my work inspires readers to consider their own roles in advancing gender equity, whether through advocacy, education, or supporting grassroots efforts. Awareness is the first step, but action is the ultimate goal.
Looking ahead, what are some human rights issues or themes you would like to explore more in your future works?
I’m particularly interested in exploring the intersection of climate change and gender. In many parts of the world, including East Africa, environmental shifts are disproportionately affecting women, especially those in rural communities. I’d also like to delve more into indigenous rights and cultural preservation – topics I’ve begun exploring through recent professional work with First Nations in the US. There are so many critical stories waiting to be told, and I hope to continue using my writing to shine a light on them.
