Period Poverty—it's a thing, and we can help to end it.

Bleed with pride. Period.

One scene stands out among all others from a recent trip to Kenya. Know there were many dramatic and even life-changing moments—the roaring, back and forth, of two lion couples who seemed to be taking turns lunching on a zebra, my first trunk hug from an orphaned elephant, the joy of dancing with new friends from a Maasai women's community as eager to connect with us as we were to connect with them.

But the moment frozen in my mind was the minute a group of young school girls took the bags we'd just gifted them and tossed them in the air with the joy of seniors tossing their graduation caps in the air. It was all the more surprising (until you know the story) given what was inside: a set of reusable cotton menstrual pads of the bright colors typical of Kenyan women's clothing.

This is menstrual health month across the world. And it's a time good for us all to think a bit more of the privilege of being able to go to a pharmacy and pick up a pack of pads. Having that privilege means the ability to go to work, go to school, even leave the house for those several days each month.

Madvi Dalal, who was born in Kenya but later spent many years as a pharmacist in England, returned to Nairobi looking for a meaningful way to spend her time while initially seeking a pharmacy job.

While teaching yoga in the massive Kibera slum, girls in her class shared how they couldn't go to school during their periods. Then there was the one who said, matter-of-factly. “Oh. I have pads. I get them at school.” Baffled, Dalal asked more questions. The girl explained how she got them from a teacher—one pack if the sex was ok, two if it was extra pleasurable.

While her first instinct was to call child protective services, the girl did not want to lose her opportunity to stay in school. She realized then she couldn't save girls one by one, but she could work to solve the problem. That was perhaps the defining impetus for what has become PadMad Kenya and won Dalal international recognition, climate change awards and the satisfaction of ensuring girls, one by one, can avoid the fate of that early student.

The innovative project uses an economic model that helps women all the way through the process. PadMad provides cotton seeds to Kenyan women who grow the cotton for the products. Women in prison make the pads, as do those suffering from HIV. Trainers spread out throughout the country providing the pads but in a way that looks to remove the stigma of periods. Dalal usually shows up in her shirt that reads: “Bleed with Pride. Period.” And the sessions have girls laughing as they learn.

The problem exists in both rural and urban areas, Dalal learned, with women in the Mt. Kenya region literally competing with sheep for a certain leaf that can help to stop their flow. In the Maasai Mara, women and girls are known to use elephant dung. But mostly, that time of the month is what and opportunities—if one even exists—to go to school.

• Across Kenya, 65 percent of women lack the financial means to purchase menstrual pads; in the rural Maasai Mara the number is closer to 100 percent.

• School-aged girls miss an average of four school days a month due to their menstrual cycle and often forced into extremes like (as Dalal learned) trading sex for pads.

• Women also turn to makeshift and unsanitary options.

We have joined with PadMad to become a key partner in the Maasai Mara, hoping to expand beyond those boundaries as financial means allow. We also are partnering with Northwestern Michigan College in Traverse City. Dalal will be their “global hotspot” speaker, in person, at a session in early October, and Uplift Travel will offer a variety of other events that week and opportunities to both meet Dalal, view the documentaries made about her project and sponsor a pad kit or more to make a dramatic difference in the lives of the world's women and girls.