We pass through the standard police check and continue toward the village. It is evident that the Turkana and Pokot are at war again as there are police vehicles traveling into their area. We hear that the Pokot have shot and killed four Turkana at the edge of their tribal land. They have also slaughtered many animals as the war fueled by revenge continues. The battle remains the same as they continue to fight over cows, goats and boundary lines.
Today the pastor who ministers to the street children will be speaking in the church in Taito. I have ministered with him as he walks through the garbage and the smoldering piles for waste. As he stands to greet the people he shares how we have “watered the roots of friendship.” He lists each and every time we have eaten together or had a soda. I was amazed at the impact a simple lunch had made.
Pastor David has a kind heart and works with those that live in the midst of the garbage. He has children of his own and has welcomed others under his roof as well.
March 17, 2014 (Monday) The hills of Makoi are being plowed in preparation for the rains that will soon fall and bless the land. It is the hottest time of the year now and everything is so very dry. The hot sun slows down our walk a bit but we move forward as we want to visit several homes today. Alice and her family lives almost at the top of one of the highest hills in the village. The views from this area are stunning and it feels so good to sit for a moment and just enjoy them. Alice and her husband have three school attending the school and they have been absent for some time now. We want to visit with them and make sure everyone is healthy.
We unhitch the wire gate and walk up the long path that leads to their home. They have dogs but because of lack of food and the hot sun not one of them offers to let out a bark of warning. Mama quickly brings us stools from inside her home for us to sit on. Alice disappears for a moment or two and returns dressed in her Sunday best. Life is hard in the hills of Makoi and one day turns into the next without much change. Our visit is ends but the memory will linger and will be talked about for several days. Neighbors will carry the story of the visitors from one to another. We are walked to the gate and with big smiles and warm hearts they invite us to return.
We continue our walk from Makoi into the village of Taito. On the way I hear the ever so common words; “Mazungu how are you?” (White woman how are you?) It is a phrase that is almost sung by the children as they try to catch my attention. I stopped and observe a group of children standing in a freshly plowed field on the other side of the fence. The girls are about 8 -10 years old and as happy as can be except one! As I wave to them and respond to their greeting this one girl screams in terror. The screams get louder while the girls around her laugh. I quickly walked away in hopes that the young girl would quiet down. It was evident that this girl had a built up fear of white people. Mostly likely she had been taught from early childhood that white people are evil. I have heard mothers tell their children to run because I was there to eat them. Such stories continue in the hills and back lands of villages even today.
Festus is ninety years old and lives close to the church. When we were building the church in 2012 Festus came with a willing heart to help in any way he could. In fact we had to discourage him from working at times as we were worried about him doing too much. Festus and his wife are both very hard workers. They are a very special couple!
After our visits in Makoi and Taito we venture into the village of Emoru. The afternoon sun shows us no relief and I use my umbrella as a shelter from the scorching ball of fire above us. We passed a couple of ladies resting beside the road and in Swahili they asked the pastors walking with me a question; “Are you trying to kill her?” They were concerned that I was out in the hottest part of the day.
It was getting late and we were a distance from town but the
need to visit the orphans in Kipsiana was heavily on my mind. It meant walking
to the road way and waiting for a matatu that wasn’t full to pick us up. It
would mean traveling another twenty or thirty minutes further away from town
but we all agreed to go and not wait.
Matatu after matatu came toward us and flashed their lights, a signal
that they were full and would not be stopping.
We finally had one stop and it was full to the brim but in Africa there’s
always room for one more! They squeezed
me into the front seat with three other guys and the pastors vanished behind
hidden me in the maize of bodies. The
door was shut and the van rattled down the road as we passed through the never ending
potholes.
It was a timely visit as the grandmother and children were without food. They had finished the last of their food the night before and didn’t know where their next meal would come from.
We went into the market area of Aruba to purchase some maize and other items for the children. The village stopped and all eyes were on me. Their eyes spoke to me and an uneasiness was felt around me. I was not welcomed here except by two little guys. With a bottle of soda I won their confidence and made some new friends. I motioned for them to come closer as I wanted to give them a soda to share but neither one moved. I tried again, I smiled, I waved but they were so cautious of me. I could see they wanted a drink but neither one dared to come close to me. I held the soda bottle out at arm’s length to make it easier for them and they took a few steps forward. Neither boy would take a step alone. They were shoulder to shoulder and joined at the hip. When they got close to me the older boy, about 8, took the younger boys hand and pushed it toward me. This little guy quickly grabbed the soda bottle in his hand then the older boy took it. The soda was shared by both and it put big smiles on their faces. They had faced their fear of the white woman and won their price.
March 18, 2014(Tuesday) My husband’s name, Manley, is becoming very popular in the slum area around Nairobi. I’ve been told that one of the ladies from the church, Ebby, has given birth to a little boy. Little Manley is doing well and so is his mama. We thank the Lord for another health baby and pray a blessing upon him.
March 20, 2014 (Thursday) We needed a few more supplies for the children’s bedrooms and while I was waiting for the pastor to arrive a man approached me and started asking for help. I'm asked for money or help by so many that I'm on guard as some of it can just be a life style. You have to sort through the stories and figure out which ones are sincere and need help and which ones are just out to get you.
This man, Nicholas, started to tell me he didn't have money for his medicines. He told me he had asthma and a lot of congestion in his lungs. He showed me his slip from the doctor and I could hear the congestion as we talked. I knew the rains were coming and he would be in trouble if he didn’t have his medicine. I could tell he was trying to look his best but to me he looked very thin and weak. So I listened for a while still very much on guard. I had him get a cup of coffee and 2 donuts as he hadn't eaten and as we talked he told me that he was so old it was hard for him to work and get enough money. So I asked him how old he was. He said 52! (Like it was ancient) I said do you realize you're asking an older woman to give you money? His head went up and his eyes go big as he looked straight at my face. I said that's right I'm older than you are. So then I told him the year I was born and he was shocked! He went on to say I looked so young. He said it over and over like he couldn't believe it. Obviously that guy got his medicine! He really did need it and we walked together to the clinic so I know the money was not wasted on a bad habit. Nicholas had a very thankful heart and a smile that said it all.
Later in the day I had my ear checked as I’ve had some pain. I went to a specialist!! Hidden off the beaten path is Ear Nose Throat doctor. My friend, Charles, at the pharmacy gave me some directions to follow and off I went to find this ENT specialist. I entered this hall way from the main road and went through a maze of alleyways. I thought I knew the town but I continue to find these hidden little cubby holes and alley ways.
Deep inside was a little village of it’s on and there on a brown wooden door were the letters E N T written on it.
From the waiting room or the hallway I could see a junkyard out the back door. It's a challenge to find a good doctor sometimes but today I think I found one and I’ll be ok in a short time. The visit with the doctor is over and he is writing everything in his old fashion ledger book; my name, and then my age. I tell him my age and he stops what he is doing and looks at me. He wants to know the year I was born. I tell him. He says I thought you were twenty something or maybe in your thirties. You look so young!! So I didn't mind paying him 500 shillings which is most likely doubled what a native would pay. (500shillings/ $6.00) It was a good day!!!
Then I met "Wilson" He is an older street boy. I've known him for years and he is always happy to see me. Today he was so happy, excited is a better word! He started to pull his treasures out of his dirty old smelly sweater. He had hidden all of his valuables underneath his sweater and he wanted to show me. Out came an unopened bag of macaroni shells....a little green and buggy on the inside but he was so happy. Next a used bag filled with fish heads...stinky fish heads. He was so excited! Then out came a complete fish, one with the head and tail but dried. By this time people are stopping and watching us with these little smirks on their faces while my heart is breaking as I watch Wilson like a boy at Christmas gather up the fish heads that had fallen to the ground. He kneels at the side of the road and quickly gathers each and every piece of fish no matter how small it was and puts them all together in this worn out plastic bag. He then tucks everything safely underneath his sweater where no one can see it and walks beside me for a bit. I had Wilson come inside this very small place that sold a few things to eat. I ordered him a soda and 2 donuts and the girl behind the counter looked horrified. Wilson didn't wait to sit down he started eating the donuts before I even paid for them. I could see the counter girl was having a hard time with this so I took his plate and had him follow me. I left Wilson with a soda and 2 donuts sitting on a stool at a table.
Today he had food served to him on a plate. He sat on a stool at a table. He had something to drink that was his and only his. He got to drink his soda with a straw. For just a few minutes he could eat without the hot sun beating down on him. He could have a moment without the flies from the garbage swarming around him. He could rest his lungs from the smoke that rises from the burning garbage he paws through. Moments like these don't happen often for Wilson but when they do he feels like he is in heaven!
James 2:3-4 If you show special attention to the man wearing fine clothes and say, “Here’s a good seat for you,” but say to the poor man, “You stand there” or “Sit on the floor by my feet,” have you not discriminated among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?
No comments:
Post a Comment