Stacey: The cleaning appointment had turned into hours, but I knew within the first few minutes of our conversation that I had made a lifelong friend. Simba had left his own large and loving family behind in Zimbabwe in order to come to America in order to provide for them; that in and of itself broke my heart. I couldn’t imagine the pain and the courage it took to move to a foreign land, leaving behind all that is familiar to take a chance on a dream. It broke my heart to learn that his son, who was the same age as my son, was less than a year old when head left Zimbabwe. I knew right then that I had to do something — Now — to help my new friend’s family! But more than that, I felt compelled in my spirit to try and find a way to help his entire village.

Simba: From that day forward Stacey and I were friends. She single-handedly changed my entire life! Every chance she could, she would refer me to her friends and family members for work. Stacey called me the hardest worker that she’d ever met, and I was grateful to have steady work that allowed me to take care of myself and my family back home.

Stacey: I was overjoyed when Simba was finally able to bring his family to the United States to live with him. His son, Cay, and my son, James, became instant friends. I remember taking Cay to his first big arcade and being amazed just watching him and seeing his excitement.

Simba: In August of 2012, I was finally able to go back to my home village in Zimbabwe and visit the rest of my family and friends. Zimbabwe is no stranger to drought, but what I found was a land devastated by years of dry skies and scorched earth. Children were sick and dying not only from diseases caused by the lack of fresh, clean water, but also due to hunger & lack of food. What little livestock that was left was skin and bones; barely alive themselves and unable to work the land. I was so distraught and upset that I immediately messaged Stacy to tell her of the horrible conditions I was seeing in the land of my birth. I had to do something to help.

Stacey: I was beside myself trying to think of ways to get help to the village. I got on the phone and began talking to business contacts, friends and family members. Every time Simba texted me or sent photos from his village my heart broke just a little bit more. I wracked my brain trying to come up with solutions.

Simba: I needed to experience, firsthand, the journey that my family members and the other villagers endured each and every day to provide our village with water. On the first day, we walked about seven miles one way through a barely passable path filled with rocks and brush. The oxen we led on that journey were so weak and frail it seemed they could fall over dead at any moment. When we reached our destination, it was not a creek but a dried bed where the villagers had dug a wide hole that was 15 feet deep. Although there was no scaffolding or bracing to hold the sand back, villagers were risking their lives by descending into this dangerous abyss.

Stacey: I couldn’t believe what I was seeing on the video. To say that I was shocked would be an understatement. Through my tears, I watched as villagers painstakingly used a large metal drum to separate the water from the sand at the bottom of the pit. Then one cup at a time, they put the water into a bucket that went from hand to hand until it reached the surface.

Simba: I could barely contain my sorrow. This is what my people did every single day to bring water back to the village. Not clean or fresh water. Not even purified water. This water was just as likely to bring about death as it was to sustain life. And they told me that it was never enough! They couldn’t even bring back enough water to drink and bathe, let alone to water the crops and give to the animals. My village needed a better source of water or people would not be able to survive. They needed a water well.

Stacey: The idea to hold a fundraiser to raise money for a Borehole (water well) for the village was the only logical way to proceed. Because of my contacts in the community, I knew we could raise the money but we needed to find a non-profit organization to do the work. I spent more than a year trying to partner with several organizations that gave us false hopes and either over promised or under delivered. Finally, we made the decision that the only way to get this project completed, the way we wanted, was to start our own non-profit agency. Thus, in January of 2014, Drill4Life was born!