What do a water well, library renovation, textile workshop and a new collection all have in common?
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At first glance, very little.
A water well in a village. A library brought back to life through renovation. A textile workshop filled with colour and conversation. A thoughtfully designed collection… They belong to different worlds, serve different purposes and speak to different audiences. Yet each represents something far greater than itself. They are all investments in possibility. Not simply something that exists, but something that creates opportunities.
I have come to realise that some of the most meaningful projects rarely look alike. Their value lies not necessarily in what they are, but in what they make possible.
Earlier this year I travelled to Tanzania on what I would describe as both a volunteer trip and, personally, a brand trip. We opened two water wells, helped renovate a library, visited local orphanages and distributed essential supplies. It quickly became clear that the most meaningful moments were not about what we were giving, but about what these projects would continue to give long after we had left.
I had honestly never given much thought to the importance of a project's sustainability until I had the privilege of working with TimeToHelp. One thing they do exceptionally well is ensure that their impact doesn't leave with the volunteers. Every project is designed to be self sustaining, empowering local communities to maintain and benefit from it long after each trip has ended. For me, that's what meaningful volunteering should look like: creating lasting impact rather than temporary change.
A water well isn’t just about access to clean water. It gives families back time that would otherwise be spent walking long distances each day. Time and energy that can be spent in school, earning a living, caring for family or simply just living life.
A library renovation isn’t just about books and fresh paint. It’s about creating a space where curiosity can grow, knowledge is shared and children can imagine futures they may have never thought possible.
Perhaps it’s no surprise, my favourite day was the one we spent in a classroom in Morogoro, where I hosted a textile workshop. Together we made printing blocks and experimented with patterns, colours and design. What began as a simple creative activity, with the sole aim of having fun, became something so much more. By the end of the session, every table was scattered with paint, sponges, blocks and prints hanging to dry, each one completely different from the last. Watching the students embrace the process with such excitement and imagination and seeing their confidence grow throughout was genuinely unforgettable.
I believe above all that’s why the day has stayed with me. It’s so easy, wherever we live, to become distracted by the pace of life, our phones and the constant desire for more. The workshop was a reminder that some of the most meaningful experiences come from those small pockets of life where we create something with our hands, express ourselves and find joy in the process.
Those prints have become something much bigger than a workshop. They are the starting point for a limited edition collection. Thirty percent of every sale will go directly back into the communities that inspired it, helping to support projects that create lasting opportunities rather than short term solutions.
Looking back, the collection was ever the outcome of the trip, but just another chapter in the same story. Just like the water wells and library it’s intended to keep giving. To create a cycle where creativity supports opportunity and opportunity supports communities.
I suppose that’s what these four things have in common.
They’re all reminders that the best projects don’t end when the ribbon is cut, the workshop finishes or the journey home begins, they continue opening doors long after the people who began them have left. Perhaps that is the lesson I’ll carry with me the most. We often measure impact by what we can see in the moment, but so much of it happens quietly over time, in the opportunities created, the confidence built, the ideas sparked and the doors left open for someone else.
As a designer, I spend so much time thinking about what I'm making. This experience encouraged me to think instead about what my work might make possible for someone else. If my work can continue creating opportunities long after I've finished making it, then that’s the kind of work worth creating.