cover
On a sunrise-lit sandy path beside the lagoon, Kaia walks toward her pale uncle, gripping a blue bucket. The uncle sits slumped against a leaning palm, eyes half-open as Kaia leans forward, brow furrowed.
Sunrise colored the lagoon on Tabiteuea North. Kaia skipped along the sandy path with her bucket. She saw her uncle resting, pale. "Uncle, are you okay?" she asked. "I feel weak," he whispered.
In the shady yard under late-morning sun, Kaia kneels beside her resting uncle and offers a metal cup of water. She pauses, eyebrows knitted, while uncle reaches weakly toward the cup.
Kaia brought him a cup of water, then paused. "I wonder if our water is safe," she murmured. She remembered rain on the roof. Maybe something was wrong. Kaia decided to ask for help.
Inside the open-air maneaba at midday, Kaia stands before Nei Toka, who beams and rests her hands on her hips. Sunlight streaks through palm-thatched rafters as Kaia lifts a worried chin, seeking guidance.
At the maneaba, Kaia met Nei Toka, the friendly WaSH officer. "Mauri, Kaia," said Nei Toka, smiling. "How can I help?" "My uncle is unwell," Kaia said. "Please teach me about safe water."
On the white beach under bright afternoon light, Nei Toka crouches and traces three overlapping circles in the sand with her finger. Beside her, Kaia squats attentively, eyes wide and lips parted in eagerness.
Nei Toka drew three circles in the sand. "Collect carefully, boil properly, and store and use water cleanly," she explained. Kaia nodded. "We can do that!" "Yes," said Nei Toka. "Let's start together."
In bright midday outside Kaia's wood-framed house, Nei Toka holds the downpipe steady while Kaia raises a long brush, sweeping damp leaves from the tin gutter. Water droplets glisten as both grin in satisfaction.
They walked to Kaia's home and looked up. "Leaves block the roof gutters," said Nei Toka. Kaia fetched a brush. Together they cleaned the gutters and downpipe. "Rain will flow cleanly now," Kaia cheered.
At the stone-ringed family well under clear morning sky, Kaia tightens a wooden lid with knotted rope while Nei Toka watches approvingly. A freshly swept platform encircles them, broom resting nearby, faint animal footprints fade in the surrounding dirt.
They visited the family well. "Keep animals away and cover it," Nei Toka said. Kaia tied the lid snugly and swept the platform. "No muddy feet here!" she laughed. "Great job," Nei Toka agreed.
In the small kitchen lit by afternoon sun through slatted windows, steam rises from a metal pot as Kaia studies a ticking wall clock. Beside the stove, Nei Toka nods, counting bubbles with a satisfied smile.
Inside, they filled a pot with collected water. "Boil until big bubbles dance for two minutes," said Nei Toka. Kaia watched the clock. "Two minutes!" she cried. They cooled the water safely on a table.
Outside under late-day light, Kaia scrubs a plastic bucket with soapy foam while Nei Toka holds another bucket, checking its shine. Clean lids and a bar of soap rest on a nearby bench, water puddles glimmering.
Kaia washed buckets with soap and rinsed them well. "Clean and covered," she said, placing lids on. "Use clean cups or a ladle," added Nei Toka. They practiced washing hands before pouring. Everyone smiled.
Inside the shaded veranda, Kaia sets a lidded bucket on a mat and hands a clean cup to her reclining uncle. Nei Toka stands beside them, arms held loosely, smiling as uncle drinks with relief.
Kaia carried a covered bucket to her uncle. "Here is boiled water," she said gently. He sipped from a clean cup. "Tastes fresh," he whispered. "Thank you, Kaia and Nei Toka."
Near the lagoon under a breezy mid-morning sky, uncle walks steadily toward a pandanus shade, smiling proudly. Kaia claps beside him while Nei Toka taps her open notebook, grinning at their shared progress.
Over days, her uncle rested and drank safely. He smiled more and walked to the shade. "I feel stronger," he said. Kaia grinned. "Small steps make big changes," Nei Toka added, tapping her notebook.
On the sandy village path in soft afternoon light, Nei Toka lifts a canvas bag over her shoulder as Kaia wraps her arms around Toka's waist. Both smile warmly, palm trees swaying behind them.
One afternoon, Nei Toka packed her bag. "Another village needs me," she said kindly. Kaia hugged her. "You taught me well." "You will teach others too," Nei Toka replied, waving from the path.
At home courtyard during fiery sunset, Kaia pours water from a covered bucket into a cup, hands freshly washed and still dripping. Behind her, the lagoon shimmers gold, and tidy gutters and well lids frame the scene.
At sunset, Kaia checked the gutters, the well, and the buckets. She washed her hands and poured water with a clean cup. "I promise to care for our water," she whispered. The lagoon glowed happily.