Rescued from the Clutches of Evil

Wednesday, February 24, 2016  There is one part of town that no one in their right mind wants to travel through, especially on the back of a motorbike, but today it is a must. The matatus/public transportation vans are lined up beside the road and the open air market with booths are on the other side.  Piles of clothes are laid out on the ground along with everything imaginable; potatoes, fish, carrots, spices, wooden spoons, mats, brooms, new shoes, used shoes, charcoal stoves/jikos and the list goes on.  Mama’s sit under big colorful umbrellas to sell their goods while a few sleep away the day in the midst of their pile. Somewhere hidden away in the midst of all the piles, booths and produce there will be the smell of corn roasting or chips sizzling in the hot fat. This little “hotel” might not be found by the quick shopper but the narrow wooden benches found inside are a resting spot and a haven for the locals.


The road is consumed with motorbikes for hire and the drivers are just waiting to catch your eye.  Delivery trucks, buses, and motorbikes weave in and around each other without worry or concern. Men with loud voices are calling out their destination as they try to fill the numerous shuttles to the max before they start their journey. Motorbikes turned into delivery vehicles carry bags of cement, charcoal, lumber, iron sheets, boxes of nails or 4 or 5 people at once makes the adventure of traveling this road reach a new level of risk.

There are people walking along the edges when suddenly they try to walk through the maze of moving vehicles to get to the other side.  A goat, cow or a couple sheep can make traveling just a bit more difficult as they slowly saunter into traffic like they were grazing in a field.  It’s just chaos at extreme.  This motorbike ride turns into a prayer meeting pretty fast as our goal is to reach the timber yard on the other end of the road!

After successfully  traveling through this unsettled mob of moving confusion our next challenge is to find the straightest boards possible and in a third world country that’s not always easy.

School is in session when we arrive and you would never know that almost 40 children are inside as not a sound can be heard.  However, they might be quiet but they are very much aware that I have returned to the village and they are just waiting for me to look their way. For now they are all learning inside the church but very soon they will have plenty of room in their new classrooms.

The delivery truck arrives and the framing begins. There are always a few challenges to meet and sometimes it can be fixed with a brick or two.

Manley’s saw is the most expensive tool on the project and its quality brings ease and smiles to workers.  

Its lunch time and the children burst through the big red door on a run. They’ve made a path right to the shade trees where they eat their lunch. It’s cool and comfortable and now they have nice benches to sit on.

A goat is tied close by and chickens make their way toward the children in hopes that a piece or two might hit the ground. Small green apples, called white apples, fall to the earth while they eat. They are far from perfect as they have become the main course for the birds. As fast as the hit the ground they are collected by the children and become a tasty snack!

The children have hot porridge at ten in the morning and lunch at one and for a  high percentage of them it is all they will have for the day. Home life in the hills is extremely hard and the children suffer. When asked if they ever go to bed hungry the answer is “Of course.” We have heard many stories of how they cry themselves to sleep because they are hungry.

Mama Rhoda has a heart of gold and her acts of love continue to help the children and the school. She prepares the food every day for the children and that means hours of work before they sit down to a hot meal. The beans have to be cleaned and the maize needs to be sifted so that one of their favorite traditional meals can be made...githeri!

Cooking is done outside over three rocks or inside the kitchen which is separate from the main house.  Charcoal and firewood are usually the two means of heat and come at a high cost. Little pieces of wood are collected by the ladies in the village from every possible place as quite often their pockets are empty. 

Friday, February 26, 2016 In May of 2010 Joni & I, a good friend & missionary from Canada, rescued a little boy living in Kipsongo slums.  Kipsongo means the place of the dogs and has been a settlement of sorts for the Turkana that have left their home land in the desert.   

Their homes resemble the traditional igloo shape seen in the desert but instead of using palm branches they use things pulled from the smoldering garbage piles to cover the frame. The low land that has become their place of refuge becomes a slippery mud slide during the rains filling the inside of their homes with water. Home brew, abuse and rape are way too common especially when the darkness of night brings in more evil to invade the land. 

Jobs are few and begging has been the career choice for many of the mama’s. They will carry a small child with them as they walk the streets in town. With their hand extended there is a plea for food as they tell you they need to feed their child. The child is most likely very hungry as they want the child to look weak in order to receive more money. As they stand before you they will pinch the little one, where it can't be seen, making it cry in hopes that it will put money in their hand.

Christine is one of these mama’s and alcohol, HIV and other problems consume her life. Little Ian, her son, is older now and even though he is small for his age he is still too big to be used in town for begging. Night after night he is left alone to fight off the evil that runs rampant around him while his mama is ruled by her addictions. With no one to protect and care for him he is hungry, scared and raped when he is four years old by older man.

Christine doesn’t want him anymore and asks us to take him but she doesn’t know where he is.  We fear for Ian as the night rains are heavy and the temperature drops.  We walk through the slums asking everyone if they have seen him and the responses worries us more as no one has seen him. 

Our hearts skipped a beat when we saw a little half-clad boy on a mat.  His eyes had an open stare and his body was deathly still.  The signs of life were vanishing as those around him refused to care. Flies had settled around his eyes and on his face. There wasn't any fight left in him and his face remained blank when we called his name. His hands had started to curl in and his bare legs were thin, dirty and cold.  Before us was a child unloved, thrown away, misused, abused, and cold and left to die.

Today we joined hands once again only on happier ground.  Ian has grown and yes his eyes light up with joy as he remembers back to the day he was rescued.  He is strong and well cared for in his new home. He has other siblings to interact and grow with. He can sleep at night in a warm bed knowing that there is someone there to protect and watch over him. We thank God for his goodness and for giving us the opportunity to reach out to Ian at such a tragic time in his life.

Ian is only one child of many that suffer and are filled with hopelessness. There are many that cry in the dark.  Our hearts are heavy as we think of them alone, hurting and scared but today we rejoice as this one has been pulled from the clutches of evil that surrounded him.

Matthew 18:10 “See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven.