Art, especially the kind crafted on our Ajiri boxes, quietly holds the elusive in the physical. Each textured label on our tea boxes may convey joy, sadness, hope, the women’s present lives and their future dreams. Tea in hand, we study the handmade labels, and there is a transference of mood. We can feel the joy depicted in the label of a child propped on the shoulder of an adult, leaning toward a fruit tree. We can feel the marching pride of children on their way to school, their large school bags drumming the back of their legs with each step.
In these small vignettes, made in a village in rural Kenya, we are reminded of our shared experiences of simply being alive. And isn't that what Thanksgiving is all about, pausing to celebrate our shared humanity?
At Ajiri, we feel so lucky to be on this earth at the same time as all of you. Your purchase of tea holds a lot of that elusive power of art. Sure, your purchase is the transference of physical money that goes to support women and children. But your purchases of tea, time and time again, transfers this feeling of belief. You believe in these women. You believe in these kids. You believe that the world can be a better place.
With gratitude,
Kate, Sara, and Ann
Art and the Ajiri Foundation

Angela this week in our small office, proudly sharing the first row of her scarf!
At Ajiri we keep trying to address the needs of our scholars. When they don't have food we buy food. When they don't have a safe place to stay, we find a different home. When they don't have school fees, we pay school fees. But what has seemed harder to figure out is how to address the deep stress and grief our kids carry with them.
This upcoming two-month holiday break, our scholars will learn art and therapy techniques through the arts to help them manage some of this stress. They will be learning how to knit, paint, and weave a traditional basket.
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People in the U.S. like to lament that there is no “village” anymore when raising children. But here’s the thing, Thomas was born without a village to support him. We made that village. You are that village. Every box of tea, every donation, gave Thomas the love and structure and opportunities to grow.
We will continue to share our good fortunes with others. We will continue to run Ajiri Tea throughout this tariff madness. We will continue to run Ajiri until we can’t. Running Ajiri is a type of protest in this constricting capitalist world. If to grieve means to have loved, then to protest means to hope.
When corporations voluntarily secede their DEI initiatives so quickly, we dig in deeper. Why we aren't done with DEI, and why do people make it seem so damn hard to do the right thing?
Kate Holby
Author