Free The Blue Sweater: Bridging the Gap Between Rich and Poor in an Interconnected World by Jacqueline Novogratz Page B

and Constance, the only three female parliamentarians in the country, had emerged from the first generation of women given a chance to succeed in a society where modern political leadership was in its infancy in 1987.

    Rwanda had been independent for less than 30 years, and women still had many fewer rights than men. Though they were a tiny minority in the 60-person Rwandan Parliament, these three strong, visionary, capable individuals were paving the way for generations of Rwandan girls and women.
    Of the three, Prudence seemed the most grounded, dynamic, and authoritative. She came to every meeting prepared with facts, always knowing the various players involved in any decision we needed to make. She reminded us that opening banks to women would be threatening to the status quo, so we should remember to tread lightly, but with savvy.
    "I dream of a day," she told me, "when women will have more power, when they will be afforded the respect that men receive. And you know, I can see it coming," she said, always with a twinkle in her eye.
    I adored her.
    Prudence delighted in visiting the rural areas with me, always wearing long dresses on her sturdy frame, carrying herself with a regal air that was never at odds with her kind nature. Her soft, melodic voice narrated local stories peppered with colloquialisms that gave the poorest women of the hillsides permission to have a sense of hope. Though I understood barely a word of her speeches because she always spoke in Kinyarwanda, I loved watching her in action, feeling the confidence she exuded and the sense of warmth and comfort she imparted to the women around her.
    Prudence and Rwanda's then president, Juvenal Habyarimana, both hailed from the north of the country, so she had some access to high circles. She was also aware of the power of her feminine wiles and unafraid to use them. "To get a man to trust you," she once advised me, her black eyes sparkling behind thick-framed glasses, "wipe off a bit of imaginary dust from the shoulder of his jacket. It will communicate that you notice and that you care-and might slightly disarm him, which can be a good thing, yes?"
    If Prudence was the visionary spokeswoman, Constance was the workhorse-a nun with circular, wire-rimmed glasses sitting on round cheeks, always dressed in her brown habit, deeply committed to serving the poor through action, not just prayer. Although she served in Parliament, she spent at least part of her days working more actively with the church and the women's groups she loved. Once when I needed to discuss our new organization's operational structure with her, she told me to come to her parish. She was busy doing something that she wanted me to see.

    Boniface drove me to the outskirts of Kigali, where we saw the brick church standing tall amid fields of sorghum and sunflowers. We parked the car and I walked instinctively toward the sunflowers, looking for my favorite parliamentarian in a nun's habit. She walked with a jump in her step, waving her hand back and forth like a fan the way the children did, her bespectacled face beaming.
    "Those sunflowers are no competition for the brilliance of your smile," I called out.
    Constance laughed. "Oh no, oh no! I am just so happy today. Just you come and look at these sunflowers," she called. "They are magnificent, yes?"
    "Yes," I laughed with her. "They are wonderful! But what are you doing here?"
    Constance didn't respond, but pulled me by the hand so that we skipped like schoolgirls past the fields, where I had to tell her again how beautiful the sunflowers were, and then inside the barn, where boys were riding stationary bikes to fuel a rudimentary contraption that pressed sunflower seeds into oil.
    "Good exercise, yes?" Constance grinned.
    "Constance! Is this your business?"
    "Not my business," she said. "But you know I am supporting women's income-generating projects through the church. It is my real passion and the reason I am so supportive of our work to