To the children of a small mountain village, a library is more than shelves of books—it is a bridge. One that carries them from the quiet Tây Giang mountains to the vast world beyond their familiar hills.
This bridge began with a promise. Six years ago, the Nam Harrison School was built—a visible manifestation of hope for the community. For Nam, a student, DJ, and philanthropist adopted from Vietnam as a baby, it was the start of a commitment to give back to the place where his story began.
But true impact is not built once; it is nurtured, year after year. Through Children of Vietnam (COV), Nam and his family have continued walking alongside these children—providing supplies, donating books, improving water systems, and, most importantly, listening to what the community needed next.
That need was clear. In Vietnam, 43% of children ages 7–14 live in homes with no children’s books—a figure that rises to 76% among the poorest families (UNICEF MICS). In remote ethnic minority communities like Tây Giang, the gap widens further, with many schools lacking safe, inspiring spaces to read and learn.
The newly opened Nam Harrison Library and Computer Lab were created to close that gap.
Here, students will find books that spark curiosity and stories that help them imagine futures beyond the surrounding hills. The computer lab will offer digital literacy—a skill common in cities but still rare in rural villages. Soon, the library will open to the entire community, becoming a shared space where families borrow books, young people find empowering information, and learning becomes a collective journey.
“I want to read books about the world—about airplanes and the blue ocean I only see on TV,” Bao whispered, a 7-year-old boy at Nam Harrison School.
This is the power of sustained support: not just building, but returning, nurturing, and growing alongside the community. The school laid the foundation. The library builds the bridge—widening opportunity for every child and family.
In a place where books have long been scarce, this is more than a room of shelves. It is a beginning. A world opening, page by page, child by child.