Notes from Saly: Ideas, Nerves, and Everything in Between

I went to Saly telling myself I was going to relax.
This was optimistic.

By the time I arrived at the Daara Year 2, 2nd Learning Retreat, my head was already full. Not in a dramatic way, just in the steady, quiet way that comes from carrying work that didn’t begin that week, or even that month. Work that had been unfolding for a long time, with many people involved, and with outcomes that mattered. 

Daara is a learning and innovation platform that brings together organisations working on foundational literacy and numeracy. It combines structured learning, peer exchange, and a competitive Innovation Fund that supports new and promising ideas. Being part of Daara means learning in public, testing ideas seriously, and sitting with both possibility and pressure.

I joined eBASE Africa through work linked to the Daara Innovation Fund, at a time when eBASE was part of three different consortium projects. Within that setup, I led the evaluation for one of the consortiums, while my colleagues, Che Myra and Ambang Tatiane, led the evaluations for the other two. This meant that while each of us was deeply embedded in a specific project, we were also constantly in conversation across projects, sharing insights, coordinating approaches, and supporting one another. For me, it often felt like working both from within a project and across the wider Daara ecosystem, sometimes quietly in the background, and sometimes right in the middle of things.

Before Saly, There Was the Work

From October 2025, when the Innovation Fund was launched, my colleagues Che Myra, Ambang Tatiane, and I were working closely with partner organisations preparing proposals for the Fund. These projects cut across different ideas and contexts, but they all shared one thing in common: they were ambitious, thoughtful, and grounded in real challenges around foundational learning. This meant weeks of conversations, brainstorming sessions, proposal drafts, feedback rounds, revisions, and re-revisions. We were moving between consortiums, helping teams sharpen their ideas, think through feasibility, clarify learning questions, and strengthen the logic of their proposals.

We were trusted to lead much of this process. That trust came with freedom, but also responsibility. Some days were genuinely energising. Other days were long. And some days ended with the kind of tiredness that comes from caring deeply while racing against deadlines. By the time January arrived, I already knew the Innovation Fund would be an emotional undercurrent of the Saly retreat, even if it wasn’t always spoken about directly.

Arriving in Saly: Learning in the Gaps

The retreat itself lasted three days. What stayed with me went beyond the agenda.

Being in Saly meant being in the same space as people who have been doing this work for a long time, many with over a decade of experience navigating education systems, partnerships, and scale. As one of the younger people in the room, I found myself listening closely, absorbing lessons, and asking questions when I could. 

It was humbling, in a good way.

At the same time, I slowly realised that I wasn’t only there to learn. Through the work I had done leading up to the retreat, through the conversations I was part of, and through the support I offered to others, I had something to contribute too. That balance, between learning and contributing, felt important. A lot of learning happened outside formal sessions. In side conversations. Over meals. In moments where people spoke honestly about what was working and what wasn’t. Those moments often taught me more than any slide deck could.

Figure 1: Charlotte with fellow Partners

The Session That Made Me Pause

One session, in particular, stayed with me: Looking Back to Leap Forward.

The session invited organisations to reflect openly on the past year, on what had gone well, what had been difficult, and what they were learning as they looked ahead to 2026. What struck me was the tone. This wasn’t polished reflection. It was candid. People spoke about growth, but also about strain. About progress, but also about uncertainty. Listening to these reflections reminded me that even in spaces filled with strong organisations and experienced leaders, no one has it fully figured out. That honesty pushed me inward. I found myself reflecting on my own year, the pace of the work, the responsibility I had taken on earlier than I expected, and how much of my learning had come from simply staying present and open.

Pitch Day, From the Side

Then came the pitching session.

Five consortiums were presenting Innovation Fund ideas. Only three would be selected. eBASE Africa was involved in four of them. I wasn’t presenting, but I was deeply invested. We had worked closely with consortium members in the months leading up to this moment, supporting the thinking behind their ideas and helping shape how those ideas were communicated. Myra and Tatiane couldn’t be physically present at the retreat, so I was updating them in real time, which meant the nerves were shared across distance. I sat through the pitches outwardly calm, inwardly alert. I kept thinking about the months behind each presentation, the work, the care, the belief that had gone into each idea.

When the results were announced later that day, relief came quickly. Gratitude followed. And then a quieter feeling for the ideas that didn’t move forward. Some of them were strong, and acknowledging that felt necessary.

Figure 2: Nancy pitching the Kalimani proposal for the Jenga Hub, Action Foundation and eBASE Consortium.

What I’m Still Sitting With

I left Saly with clarity,

About how we support ideas without becoming attached to outcomes.
About how responsibility can arrive earlier than expected, and how you grow into it.
About how learning spaces can hold confidence and doubt at the same time.

The retreat reminded me that this work is not only technical. It is relational, emotional, and deeply human. And sometimes, being present, listening carefully, and doing your part well is enough.

I’m still thinking about Saly, and I suspect I will be for a while, not only because of the retreat itself, but also because at some point the conversations moved to a space with louder music, dimmer lights, and far fewer learning objectives. It turns out that people who spend their days thinking seriously about education are also surprisingly good dancers.

I’m also deeply grateful to the Daara Secretariat team for holding the retreat with such care and intention. From the big picture to the smallest details, their work made it possible for the rest of us to simply show up, engage fully, and focus on the work.

Figure 3: Paulene, Charlotte, Mammuso and Rasheedat on their way to dinner