A Guest Post by Mary Katherine DeVane
For years, I told myself, “One day I’ll go to East Africa, volunteer with girls, and see the impact of education up close.” I pictured myself in Tanzania, helping at a center like Maasai Girls Rescue Center, where at-risk Maasai girls are given safety, schooling, and a chance at a different future.
And for years, I waited.
I waited for a friend’s schedule to line up, for a partner who could take the time off, for the “perfect moment” when life would magically clear. It never did. Eventually, I realized that if I kept waiting for someone to go with me, I might never go at all.
So I booked the flight—just me, a solo woman traveling to Tanzania to volunteer.
I won’t pretend I wasn’t nervous. I worried about safety, logistics, and whether I’d feel lonely so far from home. But those fears started to fade the moment I arrived. The MGRC team met me with warmth and professionalism, helped coordinate transport and lodging, and made sure I always knew where I needed to be and who to call if I needed anything. I felt supported, but not smothered—exactly what a solo female traveler hopes for.
Volunteering added a depth to the trip that regular tourism simply can’t match. My days weren’t just about ticking sights off a list; they were about people. I helped with homework, read stories, played games, and joined in everyday routines. I watched girls who had once been at real risk of early marriage or violence now discussing school subjects, trading ambitions, and planning their futures.
From a solo travel perspective, this trip was a masterclass in trusting myself. I learned how capable I am of navigating unfamiliar places, asking for help when I need it, and saying “yes” to experiences that scare me a little in the best way. I also learned the power of saying “no” when something doesn’t feel right, trusting my instincts, and setting boundaries—skills that every solo female traveler should cultivate.
Practically speaking, volunteering made solo travel feel safer and more grounded. I had a built-in community, a daily routine, and locals who knew me by name. Even on the days when I ventured out on my own, I had an anchor to come back to.
This trip was, without exaggeration, the trip of a lifetime. Not because every moment was perfect, but because it was mine. I stopped waiting for someone else to validate my dream or join me on the journey, and I went anyway—and in doing so, I gained stories, friendships, and a sense of self I would not trade for anything.
If you’re a woman dreaming of a meaningful trip but waiting for “the right person” to go with you, consider this your gentle nudge: you might be the right person. Do your research, choose a responsible organization, plan thoughtfully—and then go. Volunteering as a solo traveler doesn’t just change the way you see the world. It changes the way you see yourself.
