A Voice of Hope. A Voice That Matters. Meet the Women of The ISL, Women’s Agribusiness Collective — Foindu women farmers.

VOICES OF HOPE SERIES 2 | FOINDU WOMEN FARMERS 6-10| IMPACT SIERRA LEONE, APRIL 2026

Welcome to the second chapter of our Voices of Hope Series. The journey continues as we introduce five more women farmers from Foindu—each with her own story of resilience, strength, and a growing vision for the future.

For years, 40 women in Foindu Village woke up before sunrise. Worked the soil with their hands. Fed their families. Survived.

And wondered if anyone in the world even knew they existed.

What they didn’t know: Someone WAS coming.

March 2019. Impact Sierra Leone arrived in Foindu Village. We found 40 women who had stories no one had heard. Dreams buried under years of just getting by. Hands that had worked the land the same way for generations—because what other choice did they have?

Since then, these 40 women of the ISL Women’s Agribusiness Collective have:

• Learned modern agribusiness practices that are transforming their farms

• Gained access to skills training that’s breaking generational cycles

• Become part of a community where their voices finally matter

And now? We’re building them a dedicated Impact Vocational Skills Training Center—a permanent space where hope, learning, and transformation happen every single day.

Starting NOW, you’re going to meet every single one of them.

The first chapter opened our eyes.
This one invites you to go deeper.

Beyond the fields and beyond survival, these are stories of women rising, learning, and stepping into new possibilities with the support of Impact Sierra Leone.

As we continue sharing the voices of 40 remarkable women, this chapter reminds us that transformation is a journey—one story at a time.

A Voice of Hope. A Voice That Matters. Meet Mariatu Dawo, Foindu woman farmer.

Mariatu Dawo

Some stories break you open.

This is one of them.

When the rebel war came to Sierra Leone, Mariatu Dawo didn’t have the luxury of falling apart. She had five children—three boys and two girls—who needed her to be strong.

So she ran.

She grabbed her children and fled Foindu Village, escaping to safer haven where they might be safe from the rebels. Where they might survive. Where she could keep her babies alive through the unspeakable.

And she did.

When the war finally ended in 2002, Mariatu came back home. Back to Foindu. Back to the land that had always been hers. But everything had changed.

She was alone now. Single. The sole provider for five children who needed food, shelter, and education.

So Mariatu did what she’s always done—she worked and rebuilt.

She farmed okra, pepper, cassava, cucumber, and potatoes. She planted. She harvested. She sold. Every shilling went to her children’s education. Every ounce of strength went into giving them what she never had.

But here’s the heartbreak she carries:

She tried. She tried so hard to give them a high-quality education. But there was no one to help. All the responsibility was on her.

No partner. No safety net. No backup plan.

Just Mariatu. And her will to survive.

Today, Mariatu is known as Unisa’s mom—one of our dedicated volunteers here in Foindu. And while she’s spent decades pouring into her children, she’s finally ready to pour into herself.

Her dream? To learn how to make soap.

Not just for her family, but to create an income stream that doesn’t depend solely on what the land produces each season. To build something sustainable. To show her children that even after war, even after struggle, even after carrying everything alone—you can still build something new.

When you ask Mariatu about her favorite colors, she’ll tell you: green, white, and red.

The colors of growth. Of peace. Of resilience.

The colors of strength itself.

“All the responsibility was on me. But I never stopped trying.” — Mariatu

This is what strength looks like. This is what a mother’s love can endure. This is why capacity building matters—because women like Mariatu have been building their families alone for decades.

Now? It’s time we help her build her future.

This is Mariatu Dawo. Survivor. Mother. Farmer. And a woman who deserves every opportunity coming her way

A Voice of Hope. A Voice That Matters. Meet Kadiatu Fornah, Foindu woman farmer.

Kadiatu Fornah

War doesn’t just take lives. It uproots them.

Kadiatu Fornah wasn’t born in Foindu Village. But when the war swept through Sierra Leone, it changed everything—including where she would call home.

Now married with four children, Kadiatu has planted new roots in Foindu. Her parents are gone. The life she knew before is gone. But she’s still here. Still standing and still building. And she’s building with her hands.

As a farmer, Kadiatu works the soil—planting groundnut and pepper, coaxing life from the earth season after season. And in the kitchen? She’s known for her groundnut soup, the kind that won her a spot in the Saybenche Cooking Competition.

When you ask her about her favorite color,

She’ll tell you white. Pure. Clean. A fresh start.

That’s what Kadiatu is reaching for.

For years, she’s carried the weight of providing for her family alone. But something shifted when Impact Sierra Leone arrived in Foindu.

“We’re glad with what ISL is doing. Now our kids can go to school.”

That sentence holds everything. Hope. Relief. Gratitude. The knowledge that her children won’t carry the same burdens she did.

But Kadiatu isn’t just thinking about her kids’ future—she’s thinking about her own.

She wants to learn how to make gara clothing.

The traditional tie-dye fabric of Sierra Leone—bold, vibrant, deeply cultural. She’s waiting for the Vocational Training Center to be completed so she can learn this skill. So she can create something beautiful with her hands. So she can turn fabric into income, tradition into opportunity.

“Thank you to ISL. God bless all our supporters. God’s blessing on ISL and strength to build the vocational school.” — Kadiatu

That’s not just gratitude. That’s a prayer. A mother praying for the tools that will transform her family’s future.

A woman who’s survived war, loss, and displacement—now standing on the edge of something new.

Kadiatu knows what it means to start over. And she’s ready to do it again—this time with support, with skills, with hope.

This is Kadiatu Fornah. A farmer. A mother. A woman who chooses white—because she believes in new beginnings.

A Voice of Hope. A Voice That Matters. Meet Adamasay Koroma , Foindu woman farmer.

Adamasay Koroma

Some setbacks last a lifetime.

Adamasay Koroma was born in Foindu Village. She built her life here. Married. Started a family. And then—the Rebel war came.

It didn’t just disrupt her life. It set her back. Years lost. Dreams delayed. A future that had to be rebuilt from scratch.

Now a mother of five, Adamasay has spent years working the land—planting groundnut, cucumber, and potatoes. Feeding her family with her own hands. Making do with what she has.

This past Christmas, she competed with the Upsorbeh team in the cooking competition, standing alongside other women who understand what it means to survive and still show up. They prepared krain krain soup.

When you ask Adamasay about her favorite color, she’ll tell you white.

A blank canvas. A fresh start. A chance to rewrite what war tried to erase.

And that’s exactly what she’s reaching for.

For years, the weight of providing for five children felt impossible. Education costs. School supplies. Uniforms. How do you give your children the future you never had when everything is stacked against you?

Then Impact Sierra Leone arrived.

“I’m happy ISL came to us. They’ve made school-going easy for our kids.”

That relief—that exhale—is everything. When your children can go to school without you breaking under the financial strain, you finally have space to think about yourself.

And Adamasay knows exactly what she wants:

To learn gara-making.

The art of creating Sierra Leone’s iconic tie-dye fabric. Not just for tradition’s sake, but because she sees what it could mean for her family. Income. Independence. A skill that turns cloth into currency.

“I want to learn gara-making because it will help my children.” — Adamasay

That’s a mother’s heart right there. Even when she’s dreaming about her own skills, she’s thinking about them. About what she can build. About what she can leave behind.

The war set her back. But Adamasay Koroma is not staying back.

She’s moving forward—one skill, one harvest, one white canvas at a time.

This is Adamasay Koroma. A mother who refuses to let setbacks have the final word. A woman ready to create her own comeback story.

A Voice of Hope. A Voice That Matters. Meet Mabinty Gbla, Foindu woman farmer.

Mabinty Gbla

Some losses can never be replaced.

Mabinty Gbla was born in Foindu Village. She built a life here. A home here. Filled it with memories, photographs, and the faces of people she loved.

And the civil war came to Sierra Leone

It didn’t just take lives. It took everything.

Her house—destroyed. Her valuables—gone. Those precious photographs that held her history, her family, her before—all of it, erased.

The people she loved? Most of them are gone now, too.

“All my people are dead.”

That’s a weight no one should have to carry. But Mabinty does. Every single day.

Now married and trying to rebuild, Mabinty has done what she’s always done—she works. She farms groundnuts. She shows up. This past Christmas, she competed with the Sabenche team in the cooking competition, pouring her heart into what little she could create.

When you ask Mabinty about her favorite color, she’ll tell you black.

The color of mourning. Of loss. Of everything

the war took that she’ll never get back.

But here’s what war couldn’t destroy: Mabinty’s will to build again.

When Impact Sierra Leone came to Foindu, something shifted. For the first time in years, Mabinty felt something she thought was gone forever—possibility.

She discovered it during our Empowerment workshop when we introduced arts and crafts. Her hands—so used to loss—created something beautiful. And for a moment, she remembered what hope felt like, and there was a smile.

Now, Mabinty is ready for more.

She wants to learn cake-making and gara fabric-making.

Not just for herself, but because she sees what it could mean: income to support her family. A way to help send kids to school. A skill that turns grief into something tangible, something that feeds people, something that rebuilds what war tried to destroy.

“Thank you, ISL, for your help and effort. Praise to the donors and partners. Because of you, our kids can go to school.” — Mabinty

That gratitude—coming from a woman who’s lost almost everything—hits differently, doesn’t it?

Because Mabinty isn’t just learning skills. She’s reclaiming her life. One cake. One piece of gara fabric. One day at a time.

The war took her house. Her photographs.

Her people.

But it didn’t take her hope.

This is Mabinty Gbla. A survivor who’s done mourning what’s gone. A woman ready to create what comes next.

A Voice of Hope. A Voice That Matters. Meet Fatmata Koromah, Foindu woman farmer.

Imagine bringing children into the world during war. Not in a hospital. Not in peace. But in the chaos of Sierra Leone’s civil war—where homes were being destroyed and anything valuable was being taken or burned.

That was Fatmata Koroma’s reality.

She didn’t give birth in Foindu Village. She came here later, carrying children born in the midst of unspeakable violence. Children who entered a world where their mother’s house was destroyed. Where family heirlooms, photographs, security—everything—was ripped away.

Now married and trying to build what war stole, Fatmata works as a farmer, planting groundnuts season after season. Her hands know the soil well. Her heart knows survival even better

This past Christmas, she competed with the Saybanor team in the cooking competition during the annual ISL Christmas Day of Hope event. And if you ask her what she loves to cook most, she’ll tell you cassava—the crop that’s fed her family through the hardest times.

When you ask about her favorite color, she’ll say red.

Bold. Unapologetic. The color of life itself.

And life—real life, not just survival—is exactly what Fatmata is reaching for.

For years, she’s carried the weight of raising children born into trauma. Children who deserved education, opportunity, a childhood that wasn’t defined by loss.

But how do you provide that when you’re starting from nothing?

Then Impact Sierra Leone came.

And everything began to shift.

“ISL has really done me more good. My children can now get the basics of education without worry.” — Fatmata

Read that again. Without worry.

For a mother who gave birth during war, who watched her home destroyed, who has spent years just trying to keep her family alive—the ability to send her children to school without worry is everything.

But Fatmata isn’t stopping there.

She wants to learn soap-making and how to design gara fabrics.

Not just to create income, but to support her children’s education long-term. To build something sustainable. To turn survival into stability.

“I’m grateful. And I pray for ISL.” — Fatmata says

That’s not just gratitude. That’s a mother’s prayer for the people who’ve helped her children access something she never had—a fighting chance.

Fatmata gave birth in war. But she’s raising her children in hope.

This is Fatmata Koroma. A mother who survived the unimaginable. A woman who’s building a future her children will never have to escape from.

Thank you for reading our stories.

We invite you today to be a part of the ISL Impact Vocational Skills Training Center Building project. Support us, DONATE TODAY and make the Community, The ISL Women’s Agribusiness Collective, and the Foindu Village, Northern Sierra Leone, a dream come alive. 

ISL, United We Stand, Together We Rise

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A Voice of Hope. A Voice That Matters. Meet the Women of The ISL, Women’s Agribusiness Collective — Foindu women farmers.