The Cry of the Streets

Friday February 12, 2016  Kitale is an agricultural town and it is the last big trading town before heading to the north western parts of Kenya. It sits at the base of Mount Elgon which is an extinct volcano and the seventh highest mountain in Africa. It is a beautiful area with a gigantic mountain behind us and the Cherangani Hill range in front us. The days are hot right now but being at an elevation of 6,200' gives us the advantage of cool nights for good sleeping.

Things have changed in town. There are new buildings sprouting up like weeds. It is busier, there are more people and some of the main roads are narrower because piles of construction materials are left in the roadway.

Before going up the steps into a very familiar grocery store I take a quick glance at the faces around me. The young boys with their hands out begging for food and money are new and I don’t recognize any of them. There's a new group of street boys, looking much the same. Dressed in their dark and dirty clothes and with a glue bottle in their hand they quickly learn how to survive by working the streets. They paw through the garbage looking for food but there is seldom enough. They’ve left their tribe in search of a better life but the cry of streets continues to pull them down.  

Girls are seldom seen on the streets as they are quickly snatched away. They are put into a position where prostitution is expected and becomes their only hope for survival.  Sometimes they are taken and used as house girls. They are to clean, cook and care for children at a very low price.

As I take a minute to talk with the boys I learn about how far they have traveled, their names, tribe and age.  They are 8, 10, 12, 14, all so very young, and with a glue bottle attached to their face.  There are many street boys in town and they seem to be hidden but their eyes are always watching and soon more circle round about us.

Then there are the older mama’s that come to town usually on Fridays which is observed by some religions as the day of charity.  It has become their profession to beg and live off handouts. These mama’s will carry a baby for more sympathy, if they don’t have a baby they will borrow one and walk through town begging for money.  Very often the baby will cry when it is near you as the child is being pinched in order to gain your sympathy. The sad thing is the child probably is hungry because they want this child to look weak and sick in order to play on your emotions.

I was not in town very long when Wilson came running.  He is one of the older boys and has been on the streets for years.  The older boys don’t travel far and their life remains pretty much the same. Sammy, Chinese and Wilson have all welcomed me back.  I remember the first time I met “tough man Chinese.”  As we stood in the garbage piles this muscular guy greeted me with his fist in my face and he was determined to convince me that he was strong.   I responded with a gentle voice and agreed that he was strong but also made him aware that I had angels that surrounded me and protected me.  I saw the expression on his face change and he removed his fist.  From that day we have never had such an encounter again but when we do meet we greet one another with respect and move on.

I’ve known Wilson for several years now.  He is tall, very thin and always very happy to see Mama Linda. Today he didn’t have to search for food.  He was given a bag full of hot food …..clean and fresh!

There is a vast difference between the life in town and in the villages.  They are worlds apart.  In the villages I see so many children that are without hope for a better tomorrow because they lack the funds necessary to have an education.  Another problem that we face is that most parents are illiterate and do not see the need for schooling.  This backward life in the hills is hard to change. Intruders are not always welcome but we continue to try to bring life and light to the children.  If we don’t they will suffer.  They will run like so many before them looking for a better life but ending up on the streets.

Today we marked out the property for three new classrooms and the director’s office. We found a carpenter, visited some of his projects and we believe he will do a good job!  As we sat together and discussed our vision the director’s eyes spoke pure joy!  The children would have proper rooms for learning and the office was a just an added gift from heaven :)

Saturday February 13, 2016 In a third world country it takes a long time to get things accomplished. Each and every day is full of challenges and it is necessary just to relax and flow with it.  In time it all has a way of working out.  We started early to get some supplies ordered and delivered to the project sight. We had sand delivered for mixing with cement.  We went through the village looking for bricks for the interior walls. There are different qualities of bricks and we wanted to make sure we got the best ones we could find.  We needed to make sure they were dried and fired properly before buying them.  

Bricks are made uniform by using a mold and placed under a layer of hay to dry. Then they are stacked high, covered with mud and left to dry for three months.  

After three months of drying they are cooked for three days. Wood is placed in three areas at the bottom of the pile and then sealed shut using more bricks. The heat is so intense that the bricks are still holding heat a couple days are the fire goes out.

We checked in two villages looking for bricks that were all dried and cooked.  One place would refer us to another and back and forth we went.  Finally in the midst of banana trees we found just what we were looking for.  The guys dismantled the pile and they were loaded into the tractor. 

The tractor was supposed to make delivery quicker and easier but they forgot to tell us this tractor wouldn’t start unless we pushed it.  Luckily the tractor was on a slight decline and with everyone pushing we were off and running!

Sunday February 14, 2016  Not only do we wake to the Muslim call to prayer but also to the various churches in the area pushing out songs of praise through their loud speaker horns.  Their music is in the distance and echoes through the valley.  The birds also join in with the songs of praise telling everyone that the morning sun has welcomed us to a new day of worship.

The roads are a bit quieter today as work has stopped and people adorned in their best are ready for their church service.  This morning the bike moves right along with the exception of slowing down for a few piles of sand across the road. “Speed Bumps” are usually made by area shops determined to slow people down in order to get more sales and of course they are necessary around schools.  Even in the village we have been surprised by a speed bump or two near a posho mill or a Kiosk made of mud with very little to sell.

We arrived in the village and the big red church doors were open and I could hear the pastor’s voice.  The first service was coming to an end and I was prepared to speak at the second service which was to start soon.  I recognized the faces of people that had been with us since 2012 when we built the church and I was also happy to see new faces.  The members have increased to 40 and out of those 40 we know 6 are HIV +.  The area is in great need in so many ways.  They lack skills, education, medical care and the everyday essentials to make life easier.  

They have kept the church in good condition and it has also been used for a school room for the past three years.  It has seen lots of activity but it remains strong.  When pastors from other areas visit they are amazed and have expressed their desire to have one built just like it!

There are times that I wonder if I’m connecting.  There is the difference in culture, language, and even our sense of humor but today when I hear them laugh I know we are walking together as I speak.  I know they will carry the words within them and they will repeat the message to others throughout the week. 

Our time together was not over until we prayed for the individual needs of the people. Their needs were many and they varied from being as serious as HIV+ to those that had the everyday pains associated with hard labor. Without hesitation they came and we prayed together believing that God is able. 

Wednesday February 17, 2016 The land is breaking open and the vision unfolds before us in a land that screams with pain.  It was evident that “Hell was not happy” (as the Kenyans would say) when we came to Taito and staked out the property for a new church.  It hasn’t been easy and we have faced strong opposition along the way but we have also seen the hand of the Lord working in marvelous ways.

Our posts have been delivered, the bark has been stripped. The end of each post will be rubbed with used fuel and then a chemical to prevent the termites from destroying the wood. 

Then it is place in the ground and cemented in place. 

Manley’s saw makes work much easier and the men are happy to set their two dollar saw aside to try this one out!

Throughout the day we have visits from different ones within the village and when school ends the children return to their homes full of excitement! They are happy for what they see happening here in Taito.

Proverbs 22:6 Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.

Village Life & the Shallow Grave

Thursday February 11, 2016 It has been good to meet old friends and make new ones as we walk the hills of the three villages where our school children live.  The days are hot and the sun shows no mercy as it beats down upon us but we are determined to visit as many homes as possible.

 

Most of our days start on the back of a motorbike. The road travel takes about 20 – 30 minutes and tends to make one pray just a little more than usual.  My driver is cautious but there is always a vast range of moving objects around us.  The cars and trucks moving at high speeds and swerving to avoid the numerous pot holes can suddenly be right in front of you.  A few cows and sheep, not caring to look left or right before they step out into traffic, often feel the need to walk the road too.  Among the cars, the trucks, the cows and sheep there’s bound to be a donkey or two hauling a cart behind them.  There are people walking, bicycles and plenty of motorbikes.    

 

Motorbikes are used for everything and it’s not uncommon to have a motorbike fly by you with a couch strapped to the back or a pile of lumber.  It seems that everyone does their own thing without a worry or thought of tomorrow.  

Once in the village we go by way of “African Express”…..we walk.  The fields are tall with grass but the paths through them are recognizable.  Village life is at a slower pace and you never walk by anyone without taking a moment to stop and greet them. 

 

It starts as casual talk but before you part they will know where you are going and what you are doing.  In turn they share their plans with you as well.  I don’t believe there are too many secrets here in the village. 

 

Festus passed away while I was in the states. This tall slender man was kind and well spoken. I’ve always enjoyed visiting with him and his wife.  Although he reached a good age he did not give up easily.  Festus insisted on helping us build the church in 2012 even though we were concerned for his safety.  He came faithfully and used his panga/machete to chop away at the large thorn bushes that worked as barrier around the purchased plot of land. As we stepped through the rails that made up the gate his yard opened up to us.  The path that led us to his home was long and to our side was a gorgeous leaf- less tree covered with blossoms like fire.  Before we arrived at the door it was noted that we were coming and Festus’ wife was up on her feet to greet us.   

With bare feet and still deep in mourning she walked us to his shallow grave behind the house. It was near the big tree were we often sat together as I listened to the stories of his days serving the British.  They were good memories for Festus and he admitted that it left him with a fondness for whites.   

His wife now lives with the pain of a broken heart and in the darkest hour of night she can be heard screaming out his name.   She welcomes prayer and we part once again.

Gladys, Festus' adult granddaughter, has been at death’s door. Her skeleton framed body was weak and wasting away when we found her almost lifeless body covered with a sheet.  She had all but given up when we prayed over her a few years back.  With good food, medical help and lots of prayer we have watched this woman bounce back to health.  She has put weight back on and does her work with ease.  We rejoice that she is strong, beautiful and that we still have her with us.  Since the day we came to her sick bed and prayed with her she has been a friend.  She will tell people, “I don’t ever want to hear anyone say bad things about Mama Linda!”

Sarah, with her baby held tightly in her arms, welcomes us into her house. It is evident that she is failing. She is suffering physically and has other problems too.  Her mind is not clear and her body continues to weaken.   The house is dark but cool and the one wooden window lets a little ray of light through.  The surroundings are meager and the couch framed in wire lacks the soft plush cushions that we have come to expect.

Mama Rosie comforts her little baby in her arms while we visit. He has been sick for a few days and isn’t showing signs of improvement.  Her home consists of one small room just barely big enough for a small bed and a couch. 

 Her kitchen covered with plastic canvas is outside. It consists of three large rocks and a few burnt embers.  She faces life alone and waits for a brighter tomorrow.  She doesn’t have coins in her pocket to travel nor the funds to get her baby medical care. This is often the case in Taito, Makoi and Emoru where illiteracy saturates those living in the hills.  The children suffer and die needlessly because of lack. 

We meet women along the way carrying heavy loads or tools used to work the land.  They take the time to rest from their burdens and toils of the day to visit a moment and then they are on their way.  The women work hard and when paid for their labor its ranges from 50 cents to $1.00 for the day.   This is hardly enough to buy food for the day.  A small chicken would cost them about six dollars or six days of hard back breaking labor under the hot African sun.

The paths through the open fields are surrounded with tall grasses that hide us and rustle in the wind that blows gently over the land.  But the noon day sun is intense and scorches the earth below it. Each upward step feels heavier and heavier when suddenly the path ends and a large open area is before us. The family is sitting under the shade tree in the midst of the pile of corncobs and asks us to stay.   

The shade and a chance to rest are inviting and they giggle with joy as I quickly sit down in the midst of the corncobs with them.  They are people that work hard but the land that is not theirs.  They are given a place to stay as their pay,  a shelter that becomes home.  We visit, we try to encourage and we pray and then we are on our way. 

In the midst of the hills there is a small little store made from the mud of the earth.  It comes alive when we walk up to its open window and ask for two sodas….. two warm sodas as no one has a refrigerator.  The little ones in the area went running telling everyone that we were there.   Children came from every direction and made little groups that observed us from afar.  There was chatter, smiles and busy feet.  They could hardly stand still as a “mazungu”/ white woman was in their home area!  Our order was not expected and their supply was low. The area was buzzing with excitement and someone was sent running to find us something to drink.  With a big smile of success they returned with two warm bottles of soda.

The dark clouds rolled in and the winds increased, the rains drops began to fall and they got bigger and bigger. We found shelter in a nearby home while the rain continued to fall.  The children were big eyed and quiet but happy to have us sit with them.  The dark clouds had darkened the room and it was hard to see each other.  The chickens were finding their way in out of the rain as well and it seemed like it was going to rain forever.   The children started to relax a bit and we began to talk about food and things they liked to eat.  The bucket at the corner of the house used to catch rain water was almost full and it was beginning to drip inside as well. It was wet and nasty outside and I said “Well, if it doesn’t stop I’m going to have to sleep here for the night.”   It was as if the Christmas tree lights were turned on for the first time!  The room was filled with laughter and excitement.

The rains did stop and the children filled the doorway and waved as we walked away. What a story they will have for their parents when they come home at the end of the day.

Magdalene never fails to stop and say hi to me. Often with her trained and pleading eye I will hear her request for 50 bob. Knowing I will say no she asks but then quickly smiles.  Beneath her contagious smile is a barrel of pain.  Sometimes the cover comes off that barrel and the pain pours out of her, showing itself in various ways.  She is part of a large family and one that lives close together.  As the police searched the area for those making illicit home brew they arrested many and Magdalene’s mom was one of them.

We approached a beautiful valley rich and fresh in green growth but we are soon reminded of the pain and ugliness that evil brings.  The grave of one young college woman killed on April 2, 2015 during the Garissa University College terrorist attack is not too far away.   There were 148 people killed that day and 79 wounded, most of them were college students.

Friday February 12, 2016 Its time for the school children to have haircuts and the teacher walks with them to barber down at the main road.  Girls and boys alike line up and wait their turn for the same close cut.  Some are showing signs of ring worm, which is very common, and will need a special cream to apply daily to their scalp. 

Also, children of this age are often infested with intestinal worms so they will all need to be dewormed.     

A closer inspection shows that several children have rashes on their hands and some are from the same family suggesting that it might be contagious.  Travel plans are made and Mama Rosie, her baby and the children with the rash are taken to the clinic in town. 

They are treated, given the proper medicine and sent happily on their way back to the village. The rash was contagious and with meds, cleans clothes and bedding it should clear up soon.  Mama Rosie’s baby should also be feeling much better in a day or two!

In the midst of all the pain and suffering I receive word that a child has been born.  Little “Joy Linda” was born February 10^th in Kawangware slum.  Her mom, Emily, and little Joy Linda are strong and doing well.

The days are full and the needs of the people are always before me. Their life is hard but change comes even harder. If their eyes would open and they could only see there could be a promise, a ray of light, of a better tomorrow.

Galatians 6:2 Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.  If anyone think