February 5, 2017, Sunday The scenery quickly changed as we left the city limits and entered Mukura slum. The luxury style homes, businesses, and tall glassed-in buildings disappeared along with the smells of sweet-flowering trees. We had entered a different world, and the life of survival was like an uncut movie rolling before me. Near the entrance of the slum stood a large pool of dirty water and it bubbled with life as children bathed and played in it.
Our step was determined, and we walked steadily down into flat lands that became the breeding ground for rats.
Filth surrounded us, and raw sewage flowed down the middle of a narrow passageway making it necessary to jump back and forth to walk on dry ground. Children without the green grass, tall trees, and elaborate playgrounds spent their time moving their sticks through the sewage.
The wall of iron sheets on each side of us never seemed to end. Men lacking work sat on a step in front of their humble home with the stench of sewage filling their nostrils. Those around us walked with heads held down, we could feel the gloom and despair in the air. People here seemed lost to the world, and the world didn’t care. In the midst of such darkness and incredible poverty, children are born not knowing anything bigger or brighter.
Within this pit where rain waters run and fill the land, a young man found his way out, but he did not stay. He has returned and opened a school. He is a beacon of light bringing hope to the forgotten children of the slum. His vision is ever growing as he sees children run through his gate eager to learn more.
February 6, 2017, Monday My early morning flight was on time. It was a small plane, so my luggage was sent via truck. Everyone had a window seat, and the pilot was in view. He informed us of the emergency instructions before we took off and they went something like this. In the case of an emergency, there is a red handle to pull to open the door. Do not pull the red handle until I give the emergency instructions. The emergency instructions will be “Evacuate, evacuate, evacuate!” Fortunately, we flew above the wind clouds into the open blue sky without problems.
The city started to fade in the distance, and the mountains and craters were soon beneath us. We crossed the Rift Valley into acres of agricultural land known for producing maize and beans.
The plane glided across the small airstrip in the midst of farmland. It had delivered us safely to western Kenya with its red soil, hot days and cool nights. Soon I would enter through a door with “Linda” painted on the outside. It would be my home, my place of rest, for the days ahead.
As others welcome me little Christine, a child rescued from Turkana land runs to greet me. Her eyes twinkle with delight, and now the smile once covered by her tumor can easily be seen. She is beautiful, healthy and growing strong. Just last year she has held in her mama Mary’s arms like a baby even though she was almost two. The lack of food had weakened her body, and she was tiny for her age. A drainage shunt can be seen and felt in her abdomen, but it doesn’t seem to slow her down. She is a very active and happy little girl. We thank God for his divine plan. Without medical care and someone to oversee that she is taken care of little Christine would not be here today.
February 7, 2017,
Tuesday
A chorus of perfection fills my ears as the birds alert us that the sun will soon break the sky. The delightful song comes to an end as the Muslim call to prayer awakens every dog for miles around from their quiet guard duty. They howl back and forth, rest awhile and then do it some more. Morning is here, and all is awake around me. The mosquito net around my bed is tightly twirled around and then tossed above the bed. My day has begun.
The school children are waiting, and as I view my surroundings from the back of a motorbike, all appears unchanged. Cows are sauntering across the road without fear of oncoming traffic. The have eyes, but they don’t see. Matutu’s ( public transportation vans) have people sitting on people, and still, they are ready to carry more. They rush by us at high speeds. A beep beep sends shivers up your spine and a quick prayer to heaven as it means to move out of the way - we are not stopping!
Donkeys pulling heavy carts trot beside us as the master swings the whip across his body relentlessly. It’s a busy road leading us out of town toward a simpler life. Chickens in wire cages are for sale beside the road. Although they will be tough when cooked it’s the only way to guarantee freshness. Crates of eggs are stacked high on the back of bicycles and carefully pedaled to town. Women are seen walking with bundles of firewood on their heads either in search of a sale or just to provide a way of cooking at home. We are in a culture set back in time, and children excited to see a white woman holler “mzungu how are you?”
We pull up in front of the school, and the children are in their uniforms and even though it is over 80 degrees most of them are wearing blue sweaters! The children’s hands reach toward the sky and frantically wave as they want to make sure I see them. Since we last met the children have sprouted upward. They no longer set comfortably in their baby chairs and at their desks so it's time for them to graduate into something more fitting.
Their eyes are glued to me and as I open up a bag of slippers made by my mom, Charlotte Towne the school shoes quickly come off! The children are elated and immediately try on their new slippers!
We hired some motorbikes and headed out of the village and across the main road to pray with one of the teachers. She had something removed from her foot surgically and was still sore, and her leg was very swollen.
When we arrived, she was resting under a shade tree, and the little ones were running around the yard as a neighbor’s cow munched away on the small pieces of grass found during the dry season.
She needed encouragement, prayer, and instruction on how to keep the swelling down. We believe that soon she will be back at school teaching the children.
The day was not over. On the other side of town was an orphanage with over 200 exuberant children rescued from Kipsongo slum. Throughout the years I have visited Seeds Children’s Home and have seen God pour out many wonderful blessings upon these orphans. When the children return from school, they form a circle and join hands. They gather together for a short time to share in song, and one will say a prayer of thanks for a safe return. Before they end and go to their room, every child hears “Welcome home” as the house mother pushes rejection further from their broken hearts.
James 1:27 Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.
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