My name is not important, but for the purpose of this paper, and to give a more personal perspective, you can call me Kumi. I am eighteen years old and live in a little village in Ethiopia. My living conditions are far from adequate, and my only memories of childhood are hunger and disease. Health problems around my village arise from poor hygiene, sanitation, and scarcity of water.

I am hungry, so hungry everyday that I must force myself to stand up to find food. On a good day I will have a breakfast consisting of small portion of bean mush, and maybe a small piece of bread. Not even enough to stop the hunger pains that I have grown so accustomed to. But that would be a good day. I live with my mother and father, and we are all farmers. We work the lands near are...