Wilson's Hidden Treasures

March 16, 2014 (Sunday) The road on the way to the church is full of potholes and my motorbike driver carefully swerves around each in fear that he might bounce me off the back!  As we travel we can see the monkeys playfully swinging from branch to branch while others run beside the road. Music from surrounding churches fills the air and there is no doubt that it is Sunday morning.  People line the roadway as they walk in their Sunday best to their service.  Men walk with men while holding one another’s hand as a sign of friendship.  The women also will do the same but never will you see any open affection of a man toward a woman or vice versa.

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. 

 

It was time now to move forward and prepare the new rooms for the children to move into.  Finally after persevering through some very difficult challenges we have been given the “green light.”  All the children are extremely happy to have a new home to move into with a mother and a father that will look after them. We are so thankful for all that have given to make this possible.  So many prayers have gone heaven ward to for the safety and protection of these children…many thanks!

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?

"Happy Feet"

March 9, 2014 (Sunday) Rafiki is a small village of people that have left the mountain in search of peace. They are not home as their land remains in the heights of Mount Elgon. They continue to push through daily obstacles to make a peaceful place for their children to live. They don’t want them to live in fear and to have the memories of bloody clashes.  The adults have stories to tell. Some speak of abuse, others the loss of a family member or being chased from their home by fire, guns or machetes. There was a time not too long ago when people with machetes showed no grace and the people suffered greatly.

Rafiki is a very poor area where they struggle for food for the day. There isn’t anything extra but here at the church they continue to praise the Lord.  My plan for the day was to return to the church in Rafiki.  After the service we then could do some house to house visits.   A call from the pastor with news of trouble in the area changed those plans.  After listening to his direction and wisdom I knew it was best to wait a few days before going into the village.

The church is on rented land and they have signed a lease.  They also have a school on the same property with 100 students.  They have worked hard and in five years’ time have seen lives change and have watched happy children come and go.

Through the cement hallways outside my room I hear an alarmed voice; a fire has been spotted across the street. The weather here at the base of the mountain is now at its hottest. Each day the temperatures rise to 88, 89, and even 90.  Because we are now nearing the rain season the winds have picked up and a fire would spread very quickly.

Across the street in an open but heavily laden field with dry grasses and bushes sits a traditional home. They don’t have any running water and smoke is seen rising from the top of the hedges.

A busy trail of people finds their way to the house making sure that all the children are out and that everyone is accounted for.  Buckets filled with water are taken from the lodge and carried swiftly across the way.  Children of all ages are needed and they don’t hesitate to be part of the “Kenyan Fire Department.” They gladly carry a bucket of water to save the home.  In time and with lots of water traveling at high speeds from one home to the other all is under control.

March 11, 2014 (Tuesday) It’s important to have a motorbike driver that you trust and I have one that I’ve used for a few years now.  He is a Christian and a man with integrity.  He’s timely and a very hard worker…..even when he has malaria!  When he came to pick me up one of his hands was bandaged up with white gauze. It was covering a port for his IV drip that he must sit for everyday to bring his malaria count down.  I’m sure he would appreciate your prayers as the fever, headaches, muscle pain and weakness can really be severe at times.

The day is hot and even riding on the motorbike one does not find relief.  The area around the school is depressed and people need work.  The school land needed some cleaning up with the removal of some bushes and stumps. (“Stems” as they say)  The men lack work but to find a good worker can be difficult.  Payment is expected at the end of the day and once given the man disappears.  He doesn’t return to his home to care for his hungry children but he finds the nearest mama that makes and sells home brew.  He uses his hard earned money for such and staggers around the market area and down the road.    

Today one of workers made a surprise visit and staggered into school. He laid down beside the children as they were napping and pretended he was sleeping too. So many in this area are lacking the zeal for a better life. They have sunken into a mold that they feel is theirs for life.  They lack enthusiasm. They live in world without ever seeing a brighter future. Complacency and apathy speak daily into their hearts and minds telling them that there isn’t any reason to even try.   

The adults and parents can’t seem to be motivated to change but within their children there is a spark of life emerging from each one.  Their eyes sparkle with delight and their steps even turn to dancing.  They have “Happy Feet.”   It is a hard land with soil that refuses to be cultivated but little by little we are making our way.  We are removing the boulders that blind them and stop them from reaching their potential.  The Lord has good plans for each one of them but they have been blinded by the enemy and the strongholds in the region are many. There is a light that shines bright in the midst of darkness and his name is “Jesus.”

The teachers are busy making posters for the children.  We have bought several sacks from the market area.  They will cut them in half and tape the edges so that they will not unravel.  Then they will draw a design on the sack and embroider it in colorful threads.  The end result is striking!   

Another poster used for learning their numbers is made by using the tops of soda bottles.

For the children to be healthy and have a good mind for learning they need to be dewormed.  To keep their bodies strong they need to be dewormed every three months.  If we don’t their bellies fill up with worms and take all the nourishment from the food they eat.  It is also not uncommon for them to have ring worm on their bodies, in their scalp and jiggers in their feet. 

Chickenpox is seen worldwide even here in the villages! As we found our seats in the already overcrowded public transportation van (matatu) the little boy in front of me was covered.  A body covered with chicken pox in this heat must suffer greatly!

March 14, 2014 (Friday) If someone tells you that God is blessing their land it means “it’s raining!!”  We welcome the rain after not having anything substantial for a few months.  The cool heavy rain brings us relief from the hot sun and the dust that rolls through the streets.  It is still a bit early for the rainy season to begin but it is a call for everyone to get ready.   

The grounds are plowed and the seed needs to be placed in this rich and fertile soil in the western parts of Kenya.  We are blessed here as not everyplace has soil that will produce a good harvest. 

My mode of transportation changes with the rains as the clay like red earth becomes slippery and too dangerous in some areas for a motorbike.

Most of our day was to be spent in Rafiki.  In the morning we were going to observe their school, meet with the headmaster and see if we could learn from him. In the afternoon we had scheduled a Bible study meeting.

Again the pastor calls and tells me not to come. There is trouble in Rafiki. I’m told that the land lord has come with a tractor to push over the church building and the school class rooms.  The children are inside the mud hut rooms and school is in session.  It appears he wants to chase them off the property as he now has a buyer.  The chief has been notified and there will be a meeting to see if more time can be given to the pastor to find a different location.

March 15, 2014 (Saturday) It was a great day of celebration with Pastor Mary at the Peniel Prayer Center. Bishops, pastors, missionaries and many from the area along with Noel & Mieke Alexander from Kansas City, Mo. USA came here today for the grand opening.  Noel is also one of the founders of the International House of Prayer in Kansas City.

The girls at the reception desk were pleased to pin a special "guest badge" on me that was handmade and had blue ribbons attached.

So many labored and gave in many ways to see this dorm completed.  Now when someone wants to dedicate several days for prayer they will have a place to rest their head.  Not only do we have an Esther’s Room but we have a Daniel’s Room as well! As we toured through each room I heard one woman say, "They even have pillows!" For many a place like this is a taste of heaven.

The morning was full of happiness and celebration from 9am to 2pm but my day did not end with noises of happy voices and the shouts of celebration.  Night settled in upon us.  The sky had darkened and the plans of evil showed its ugly head.  The pastor from Rafiki called to inform me that his church and all the school rooms had been demolished.  Also the chicken project that we had started for the church women was also in ruins.  He was heartbroken and so was I.   

He had met with the chief and the landlord last evening. They had talked until ten and he left assured that all would be ok and time would be granted to them to find another place.  The words spoken to the face meant nothing and the actions behind the back took everything the pastor had worked for over the past 5 years.  There was no time to remove the church pulpit or the chairs and benches with in the church. The school rooms were full of chairs and desks for the children along with books and supplies.  Tomorrow is Sunday and the people will come to church to find their church building is gone. On Monday morning there will be 100 children from the village of Rafiki that will not have a school to go to.

This little guy is new to the world! With the rain life springs forth around us. The birds sing louder and the grass and plants rejoice as they show forth their delight in various shades of greens….and this little 3 day old little guy is in wonder of it all!

Green grass shoots through the ground very quickly here when it starts to rain but at home it takes its time as it enjoys its rest beneath the heavy blanket of snow. 

Isaiah 45:8 

You heavens above, rain down my righteousness; let the clouds shower it down.                                    Let the earth open wide, let salvation spring up, let righteousness flourish with it;            

I, the Lord, have created it.

A Handful Of Beans & Hungry Children

March 2, 2014 (Sunday) The morning sounds fill the air and the nearby mosque’s call to prayer sets every watch dog in the area to barking.  The birds have been singing from early dawn and some neighborhood roosters chime in throughout the morning for those that decided to sleep in a little longer.  It is the morning ritual of sounds that brings in a new day. The morning’s sky is deep blue and filled with pure white fluffy clouds. The sun is bright and heat of the morning intensifies as the sun rises higher in the sky.

My motorbike driver is usually on time but today he is very late. His motorbike has broken down and he will not be able to get me to church on time.  Being the speaker for today’s service  I quickly notify the pastor of the problem I am facing.  It’s not easy to get a ride on a Sunday morning as many drivers will be in church or taking time off.  After some time and a suggestion from a friend a bike is on its way.

There are some drivers you just never ask for again as the risks they take can set one to praying fervently but today the driver is cautious and he delivers me safely.

Pastor Jacob’s church sits in the village of Wamuini which has a mix of tribes represented but primarily those from the Kikuyu Tribe.

The church was started years ago when two or three men had a vision for that area.  Every Sunday they would set up a tent and hold a meeting.  After some time they built a church with iron sheets but the wind demolished it. They rebuilt the church and today it is full.  The church represents many families and lots of children from the area and I feel their gaze coming my way.

A big horn speaker is mounted outside on the front corner of the church. The music, the testimonies and my words go out into the surrounding area.

The church has a low flat roof and a couple windows on only one side. It’s time for prayer and the prayer line is long.  One by one they come for prayer but the heat is over whelming.  My voice starts to sound far away to me and my body weakens. I realize I must sit down before I fall down and I continue to pray for people from my chair. 

March 4, 2014 (Tuesday) We continue to oversee the children whose mother died at the hands of a man with an iron pipe. We are ready to care for them in a more direct and substantial way but things take time in a land with so many dark and unbelievable beliefs.  The grandma and the children were attacked one night in their mother’s home around the time of her burial.  Men came in the night with machetes to scare them away.  Only one man stood up for them and he was cut up but is alive.  After a night of terror the grandma left early in the morning with the children.  She took them to Kipsiana, a village that is now further away. We have not heard from her and we don’t know where she is living.  We sent out scouts to find her as she had requested that we help the children. I stayed behind and waited for the report to be brought back to me.

Before the day was over the children had been found.  They were sick and needed attention and the grandmother was not agreeable to accepting any help.  Knowing that probably the witch doctor had poisoned her mind against us we still went directly to her village to see if we could help the children.

The path is long that leads to her house. It is a house that will give her a roof over her head for a short time as the owner is away. When he returns she will have another challenge of finding a home.  When we arrive she is sitting on a mat under the big shade tree while nursing her seven month old little grandson.  She welcomes us by bringing out stools from the house for us to sit on.  Two of the smaller children, Pauline & Emmanuel, are sleeping on a mat close by. They are both sick and show no signs of wanting to join us.

The conversation is cold; she listens but refuses to accept our help. No matter how we address the children being in need of medical care she refuses to let them have help.  We hear excuses of why they can’t go and she informs us they are ok.  She looks at me and says she doesn’t want to offend me but if they need medical help she will take them.  I tried again to have her see their great need and I told her I wasn’t concerned about my feelings I was concerned about the children.  I reminded her that malaria kills children and she needed to have them treated or they could die.  With a stern face and one that shows the marks of a hard and difficult life she responds, “Then they will die in my arms.”  The door was closed and locked tight.  It was hard to hold back the tears.  After praying over the children we walked quietly down the path that led to our vehicle and drove away.

There was no doubt that we were dealing with more than a strong willed Turkana grandmother.  The strongholds within this land are many.

March 5, 2014 (Wednesday) We had agreed to meet this morning and return to see the children and try once again to break through the lies that had been placed in this grandmothers mind.  The Lord had brought Patricia, a Turkana woman, to my mind and I asked her to go with us.  She has a heart for her people.

Upon entering the grandmother’s home we are invited to sit. The room is dark with chairs around a coffee table centered in the room.  Some chairs have cushions but most do not.  We introduce Patricia and the sounds we hear are those of their mother tongue.  The Turkana have a tribal language of their own and Patricia and the grandmother are well versed in it.  While sitting back and being still it is apparent that the two of them have a lot to share.  Patricia and the grandmother are from the same clan!  They are sharing about different family members and what is going on in their life. 

The conversation changes and now the focus is on the children.  She again stands firm that the children are ok and do not need to leave for medical help.  I knew that if she continued to refuse help then we would have to find the chief and put it in his hands.  In time her hardness started to soften and the closed door started to open a crack. Emmanuel’s temperature was high and he could hardly stand and she agreed to let us take him for medical help.  The door had opened and she was now accepting our help. 

We drove into the hills and mountains to a clinic that was well hidden and surrounded by nothing but rolling land.  The clinic was full of people waiting in line to be helped. It was a well-established place with a lab and a room of medicines.

Emmanuel was treated and given the proper medicines and we started our journey back to see his grandmother.  Knowing that he would not be able to hold any medicine down unless he had food in his stomach we stopped alone the way.  The street vendors had a few selections and his choice was a mandazi (donuts) and a soda.   

This little six year old went from sleeping in Patricia’s lap to sitting up straight!  We could see energy come back into his body as he was eating.  The grandmother had told us he had not eaten but we realized now it was not because of sickness but because she lacked food.

My heart rejoiced and ached at the same time as I watched a little six year old boy share his food and soda with his siblings. He knew they were hungry too and had saved some for them. He sat on the mat and broke little pieces of his donut and then softened it in the soda before placing it in his baby brother’s mouth.  He made sure everyone had a taste.  He freely gave from a little heart so full of love.

When we entered the yard I saw the grandmother picking the sticks and dirt out of a few beans, maybe twenty five beans at the most.  I didn’t ask but I believe that is all she had.  We traveled to a nearby market area and bought some maize and other necessary items and returned to her home. She accepted them with a grateful heart.   We had regained her trust and now the door was open to helping the children.  One day, in the future, she wants to see his home that is willing to take her grandchildren.

In time we will be able to do more but for now we are happy that the power of the lies spoken into this woman’s mind has been broken.  She no longer sees us as evil but as people with hearts to help.

March 6, 2014 (Thursday) My motorbike driver is a Christian and as we travel he shares how God is working in his life.  He had heard a crashing sound yesterday and thought he was going to be in an accident but what he saw was a big limb off a tree coming straight at him.  It just missed him and it filled the road. Everyone came running to see what had happened.  A large crown formed very quickly and the people told him that he must find a black chicken and kill it before he goes to bed.  They believed that someone had put a curse on him and this was the only way to break the curse.  Edwin stood to his feet and shared how he was covered with the blood of Jesus. He informed them that he didn’t need to kill a chicken for protection because he belonged to Jesus. 

I’m also told that anyone that carries a dead body in their vehicle must carry a live chicken with them as well.  When they arrive at the place of burial the live chicken must be released or death will remain.

People have trusted in such traditions and beliefs for generations and they need to be set free.  They need to hear about Jesus!

March 7, 2014 (Friday) The sun seems to be getting stronger as we wait for the rains to start.  People are preparing the ground for seed knowing that soon we will have daily rain.

My motorbike driver tells me of the terror that filled his neighborhood last night.  His neighbor, a soldier, came running out of his house screaming.  His wife had a pot of hot boiling fat and she threw it on him. He tried to help the man but there was nothing he could do to calm him.  A plane was called to come and take him to Nairobi for treatment.  His condition is severe and he needs prayer.

School has been dismissed for the day but no one wants to leave! These used and worn out motorbike tires are still very useful. They make great toys!

 

It only makes sense that a motorbike should deliver old worn out motorbike tires. He was willing to carry more!

James 1:27 Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.