About
Mission Statement
Compassion
We genuinely care and seek to make a positive difference.
Respect
We admire and appreciate different qualities.
Inclusion
We recognise the value of all individuals regardless of gender, age, ability, income, education, race or religion.
Unity
Our collective strength leads to harmony.
Perseverance
Keep on working to achieve our goals.
Supportiveness
We are all here for each other.
Who we are
At the core of KwaYa are over 1,000 passionate volunteers from every corner of Australia. These everyday heroes carve out time from their busy lives to drive our mission forward, making an extraordinary impact on children and young adults in Africa through education and mentorship.
We’re a not-for-profit organization committed to full transparency. We’re audited annually and report to the Australian Charities and Not-for-profits Commission, ensuring every contribution is used exactly as intended.
Our promise is simple but powerful: 100% of every dollar raised goes directly to the project it was meant for, creating real change where it’s needed most.
A Moment
Lush vegetation springs from the red soil as we navigate the pot-holed streets of Uganda. Women walk gracefully with water-laden jerry cans atop their heads, past makeshift homes of rusty iron, hastily built after fleeing war-torn villages years ago.
Our bus slows for another deep pothole, rolling from side to side. I glance at the faces around me—thirteen thousand kilometres from home, wide-eyed, tense, but excited. For months, they’ve fundraised for children they’ve never met, sacrificing comforts and relying on the support of friends and family. Now, they’re here, ready to embrace an experience like no other.
I smile inwardly, knowing what awaits them. In fourteen days, they will be forever changed. This journey is more profound than any luxury retreat. I am the first to receive the hugs, to soak in the wide smiles and eager faces. We are here to give, but we will receive so much more.
We’ll eat, sleep, and work alongside these incredible people. We’ll immerse ourselves in dance, song, art, and renovation projects, pouring our energy into improving a slum school. Our faces wet with tears, we’ll deliver donations to orphanages and comfort children who have so little.
As we dive into a culture so different from our own, we’ll rejoice in the love they share with us. Yet, privately, we’ll grieve for their basic needs—the things we discard at home, they treasure in gratitude.
A little girl clings to my leg, her clothes in rags, her nose running. I wonder where her family is—if she has one. Kneeling, I take her in my arms, and she hugs me tightly. My heart aches for her future. Today, we bring gifts to her school, but they won’t be enough for her or the countless others in the slum.
When I try to release her, she holds on tighter. It breaks my heart—I want to take her with me, knowing that what I throw away in a day could feed her for a week. How can I walk away, knowing the life she faces?
How?
“Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.
One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.
As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.
He came closer still and called out "Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?"
The young man paused, looked up, and replied "Throwing starfish into the ocean."
"I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?" asked the somewhat startled wise man.
To this, the young man replied, "The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in, they'll die."
Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, "But, young man, do you not realise that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference!"
At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said,
"It made a difference for that one.”
Loren Eiseley
That’s how.
Marsha Gusti - President and Founder - KwaYa Australia