Senior Investigative Reporter
Shaliza.hassanali@guardian.co.tt
Determined sisters Krisalan and Katelon Johnson have spent the last three years studying by candlelight and torchlight at their Sangre Grande home, overcoming poverty and numerous adversities to keep their education alive.
Today, Krisalan, 21, and Katelon, 20, are proud students at the University of T&T (UTT), pursuing a four-year Bachelor of Education programme. Their grades so far—As and Bs—have made their mother, Rhonda Cudjoe, a single parent of eight, beam with pride.
“Their education has always been my priority,” Cudjoe said. “I always told them: don’t leave school without an education.”
Katelon, who attended SWAHA Hindu College, passed eight CSEC subjects with top grades, earning Ones and Twos. She also excelled in Units 1 and 2 of four CAPE subjects. Krisalan, a Matura Secondary School graduate, earned five CSEC passes. Both sisters have their hearts set on becoming teachers, determined to break the cycle of poverty through education—especially after their mother recently lost her CEPEP job.
Their family home is part of a squatting settlement along the Toco Main Road in Vega de Oropouche. Dozens of makeshift structures dot the area, few have electricity, and no homes have pipe-borne water. Inside their cramped home, the girls relied on candles and torchlights to study for their CSEC and CAPE exams.
“It was challenging,” said Katelon, the braver of the two. She remembered walking to a neighbour’s home to use the internet on her cellphone for school-based assessments (SBAs).
Adding to her struggles, Katelon was diagnosed with keratoconus—thinning of the cornea—while preparing for her CAPE exams last year. She believes the strain of constantly using her phone for research contributed to the condition.
“My eyes would bother me a lot, and I had to take breaks,” she said. “I think my grades could have been better… I might have gotten all Ones if not for my eyes.”
The required surgery cost $12,000—a sum the family did not have. With the ophthalmologist’s generosity, Katelon agreed to pay $1,000 monthly over 12 months. Three months after the procedure, she has paid $1,500 but still cannot afford the contact lenses she needs.
A mother’s sacrifice
For Cudjoe, her children’s achievements are a testament to her unwavering dedication and sacrifice. She recalls tears of joy when she saw her daughters’ results online.
“When I saw their results, I didn’t know what to do. Tears started to run down my eyes. I looked up and said, ‘Father, you did it for us,’” she said.
Cudjoe has sacrificed her own comfort to provide for her children, often going without clothing or basic necessities.
“I’m 48, and I am still doing it,” she said, glancing at her worn-out sneakers. Her children’s education comes first, despite yearly textbook costs of up to $8,000.
The sisters also help with their younger siblings, tutoring and guiding them in school. Cudjoe’s three youngest children, ages 16 to seven, are also high achievers.
“We tell them to do better than me,” Cudjoe said. “I just want to make sure my kids succeed and have a better life.”
The family pitches in to make ends meet. When the Sunday Guardian visited, Krisalan was painting a school gate in Arouca with her mother, while Katelon and her 16-year-old brother Kevon were landscaping in an upscale housing development.
“There’s no shame in making an honest dollar,” Cudjoe said. She urges other parents not to rely on handouts.
Despite the hardships, faith gives Cudjoe strength. Her children’s father helps sporadically, but the primary responsibility rests on her shoulders. Even simple luxuries, like new sneakers, are out of reach.
The sisters, meanwhile, remain determined.
Their dream of becoming teachers is intertwined with their desire to lift their family out of poverty.
“My mom sacrificed so much for us,” Krisalan said. “We just want to make her proud.”
Through candlelight, torchlight, and sheer perseverance, the Johnson sisters are charting a path to a brighter future—one exam, one lesson, and one sacrifice at a time.
