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Published: December 1st 2008
My Boys
(left) Newton, Kevin, Moses, Johnny, Kennedy and SimonThe pulse of cowhide drums echoed off the concrete walls like thunder, bean filled gourds rattled the air and the clapping of hands vibrated the pews beneath. I scanned the room to find countless little eyes questioning my presence. My attention then turned to the right where Solomon and Ruthie were dancing in the aisle like little, bouncing bumble bees. A smile grew across my face and was quickly returned tenfold. I could feel my heart pulsate as if in laughter…for I had returned again to my home away from home.
I have returned to Kenya for a third time in only two short years. Where I was once a stranger in a strange land, I now walk proud as an uncle of twenty precious children. My travels have taken me through many different lands and diverse cultures, but God has stirred my heart and steered my path back to Kenya. It is still a world very opposite my own, but that is just one of the many reasons I’m so drawn to it…and the fact that I get to play like a child twenty-four seven and eat giant mangoes doesn’t hurt either.
After returning from an eight month
stint abroad, I mentioned in a conversation with friends that I really missed the children of Into Abba’s Arms (
IAA) and that I hoped to return again someday. A month later I stood and told my story at a fundraiser hosted by the Wagner’s in Raleigh, North Carolina and then did the same months later in my home town of Knoxville, Tennessee. A little over five months after my around-the world adventure, I hopped on an eastbound plane to Kenya, accompanied by two large packs full of toys and four thousand dollars in cash to help the struggling children in the slums of Kenya.
It is such a blessing to see the children of IAA again so soon. The first thing I noticed was how much the kids have grown…especially Joseph, who shot up like a bean stalk, and my little sweeties Solomon and Ruthie. Another surprise I met was the return of Nelson (the eldest of the group) to the IAA site from Boarding school. He took his final exams and graduated just after I arrived. Along with his educational accomplishment, Nelson celebrated his 17th Birthday. Unlike American children, Kenyan boys are not circumcised just after birth. In
Kenya it is a tribal ritual for boys to be circumcised after they pass grade eight or reach a certain age, in order to symbolize their maturity into manhood. For Nelson, it was his time…poor fella, although it was fun teasing him.
It sure was great to see Nelson again and spend time catching up as well as learning more about my young friend’s past. When he was 15-years old he wrote a short testimony for IAA that discussed his painful childhood. With his permission, I have posted his words at the end of my entry and I strongly urge you to read his story.
While the kids were in school, I spent my days helping dig potato rows in the garden (Shamba), amusing Solomon and Ruthie with my antics, and teaching Nelson how to workout…because he’s a man now and it’s about time he put on, what I like to call, Prime-grade Beef. Now, as soon as the evening rolled in and the locals retired from the fields to rest in their adobe, thatch or tin huts, it was time to take on my solemn duty as an IAA uncle…hand-to-hand combat training. The split second the van
What a cutie!
Flomina orphan from school comes to a halt on site and the door slides open, my defensive training kicks in and I absorb a barrage of crazed Kenyan adolescents. Even the young girls occasionally sneak in a jab or a swift kick to the shin. It’s not easy doing what I do and some mornings I awake to my achy, bruised body and question why, but then I peek into the boys dorm to meet Johnny or Newton’s little, eager eyes and my query is answered.
My first two weeks passed in a flash and it was time for the kids to take their final exams for the end of the semester. This was a perfect time for me to remove my distracting presence and accomplish the other purpose of my trip…and that was to put my friend’s donations into the hands of those who need it the most. After sitting down in discussion with Jen (the founder of ITHM who is the director at IAA), I decided to split the $4,000 (310,000 Shillings) as follows: $1000 to IAA for food, supplies, and a field trip to the pool; $1000 to Spring Valley School, $1000 to HOREC Children’s Home, $200 to
The orphan babies of Flomina
3 of 15 who live in two seperate rooms of a small home in Nairobi Flomina Orphanage, $200 to Haven on the Hill Orphanage, and $600 set aside for undetermined causes…which are easily found over here. The reason behind the differences in the way the money was split was due to the fact that some already receive support from American fundraisers and the others are without outside help.
I traveled with Jen to the Kenyan capital of Nairobi where she lives and does a lot of her work. We met up with her neighbor and friend Trena who works with physically and mentally challenged children part of the time and is the director of an orphanage named Haven on the Hill. Trena joined Jen and I the following day on our journey through the back streets of Nairobi. It was a day we’ll never forget.
Spring Valley School
Over eight years ago Pastor Stanley and his wife Alice felt called to help out a slum community on the outskirts of Nairobi called Spring Valley. The community was getting no assistance from the government despite its dire need for support. Pastor Stanley and his wife would use their own money to provide meals for the starving children once a week. After the first
year, even with the generous support of Pastor Stanley and Alice, four-hundred and eighteen children died of starvation and pneumonia from the cold. This sad number of lost children hit the couple hard and they made up their minds to do something that many would never do…they both quite their well paid professions and pledged to help the children of Spring Valley full time. The feeding program which once fed the children once a week now offered them a fresh meal all seven days. Soon, with donations only coming from within Kenya, the couple was able to start a school, full time feeding program and counseling for those in need. The Spring Valley School educates and feeds 250 community children (85 of whom are orphans). Thirty-one of his students are HIV positive and given special attention.
Jen, Trena and I sat and talked with the couple who seemed very thankful despite the sharp increase in the cost of food, especially maize. They informed us that they only had enough food to feed the children for three more days and then they would have to go out searching for support in Nairobi. I then asked the couple how much it
cost for a month supply of food for the children. Pastor Stanley informed us that it used to cost 58,000 shillings ($828) per month but the cost has now gone up to 65,000 ($928). At that moment, I pulled from my bag a stack of 70,000 shillings ($1,000), laid it on his desk, and said “Merry Christmas from me and my friend in the U.S.” The look I received from Pastor Stanley and Alice was priceless.
During my tour of the school I met a young girl who just last year lost her eye fighting with a stray dog over a donut. She won the donut but now only has one good eye and some major scars as a reminder. Alice introduced us and informed me that she is one of her brighter students and is no longer in hunger.
HOREC Children’s Home
The story of Christine, the founder of HOREC children’s home, is a long and sad one that I don’t have enough space to write about but will happily share when I return home. Although, I will give a brief summary of what motivates her cause.
In several tribes throughout Africa, it is rumored
that a person can rid themselves of AIDS by sleeping with a virgin. This has led to the increased number of child rapes in this part of the world. Many young children die from the trauma to their fragile little bodies and those who survive are now infected with AIDS. Christine has nine children out of her twenty who are HIV positive (most from birth). She informed me that one of her girls was raped at age four and was lucky to survive, but now has AIDS and the horrible memory to go with it. Learning this story after meeting these precious children made my blood boil. It just shows the evil there is in our world that we must pray against.
After sitting with Christine and listening to her heart felt story, we then learned that they were almost out of food and supplies and couldn’t even make it through the rest of the week without help. I then asked her how much for a weeks supply of food and materials and she said that 13,000 shillings ($185) would be enough to feed the twenty orphans. I then pulled 70,000 shillings from my bag and laid it before
her, but this time I simply smiled and said nothing. The room was dead silent for a moment and I watched her eyes fight off tears of joy. She then burst into thanks to us and to God for answering her prayers. It was another amazing moment that I’ll never forget.
After handing out balls, jump ropes and other toys from my trunk of goodies, as I did at Spring Valley, we took Christine to the local market to help her purchase food and supplies for the week and transport it back to the site. The children’s eyes sparkled with excitement when we returned to the site with a trunk full of food. They didn’t have to worry any longer about going hungry this week.
Flomina Orphanage
At first glance I could tell that Flomina orphanage was in definite need of help. I was informed before hand that Trena’s church back home in Houston partially supports the orphanage, but recent misuse of money has halted the inflow of funds. It had something to do with a cow and some missing moo-la…ha…ha! One thing I’ve learned is that you don’t ever give a large sum of money to
an organization or person until you really get to know them first. I’m not saying that this is what went on here but this was the reason that I only gave two hundred dollars to Flomina at this point and time. Maybe after Jen gets to know the organization a little better that all will change.
The site was in rough condition and the dorms that housed Flomina’s 86 orphans were small and ragged with only a thin tin wall to separate them from the conditions outside. A new dorm is being built and a bore hole for water was just recently drilled. This at least allows for them to pump clean water and sell it in the neighborhood for food money…and this was exactly what they were doing when we arrived. Flomina was totally out of money and food to feed the children. They were carting jugs of fresh water down the street to sell for money to buy the kids some dinner. I immediately gave the director the 16,000 shillings ($200) to go and buy these kids some food and then I opened up my trunk of goodies, because there wasn’t a ball or toy insight. I
The youngin's
Moses, Johnny and Newton. think the kids actually enjoyed the toys more than the food…especially when Uncle Jeremy and Auntie Jen hopped in on some jump roping.
The tour of Flomina was not over though. There was still a two bedroom shack, owned by Flomina’s founder Florence, which housed the orphanage’s 15 babies. We drove down the smoky street which had piles of trash burning along the side and weaved our way through a rocky alley and up to the entrance of her home. As I walked into the small living quarters the instant smell of urine curled my nose hairs. As I glanced to my right through the first doorway I could see three little sets of eyes glaring out at me from a single crib. I then pushed past the sheet that was wrapped like a drape and hanging in the doorway. Inside I found three of the cutest toddlers sharing a crib which was butted up against a second crib leaving barely any room to move around. We spent the next 30 minutes hugging on babies and getting soaked by their pee-drenched cloth diapers. I looked down toward my toes and noticed that the faded red, concrete floor had little
puddles. I turned to Trena and Jen with a questioning look across my face and they quickly mouthed the word
Pee back to me. This moved Jen to pull out some money of her own and offer it to Florence to purchase some plastic pants for all of the babies. This was our last stop of the day and it sure left an overwhelming feeling in me…along with a funky smell on my shirt.
Haven on the Hill
This past summer the construction on Haven’s first building was completed and five little orphaned boys, John, Kevin, Joshua, Godfrey and James found themselves a new home. This is the orphanage that Trena works with as the director and was very excited to show me around. Trena and I drove two hours through the tropical countryside of central Kenya until we arrived at Haven on the Hill. I spent the day playing with the boys and even invited the local kids into the compound to partake in some soccer. Trena showed me around the property and informed me of all the big plans for the future. The property and the organization definitely has some potential to make a huge impact
on the community.
The funniest or shall I say, the most surreal part of my day was the ride home. Trena and I popped in the new Christmas CD that
Sackcloth2Joy (the Christian band I met here on my first visit) sent to IAA and we cruised along through the picturesque African countryside listening and singing along to carols…in the Kenyan summer…and I thought I’d miss the holidays.
Well, that should be enough writing for now and definitely prevent Bobby from even attempting to read it. The kids at IAA are out of school until January so it will definitely be a crazy month. If some of you haven’t heard, I will only be staying in Kenya until December 27th instead of April. I had another bad Staph infection just before leaving the U.S. and it required surgery (if you don’t believe me then check out the second to last picture). The doctor has me on meds for 6 months to try and kill the staph since this is my eighth case in a year and a half (they found out it is the antibiotic resistant MRSA…yippie!!!). So, I’ll probably just write you all one more time and
Nelson Muturi
Seventeen years old and the eldest of the kids at IAA. then I’ll see you in the New Year. For those of you who are new to my blog you can visit my home page (
www.mytb.org/curl) if you wish to read past entries. Take care and thank you all so very much for your support and donations that made this all possible.
Kwa heri rafiki zangu (Goodbye my friends)!
Nelson Muturi’s Story - written at age 15
My life at IAA has been the best life I have ever lived. It was through God’s love that I came to live there. Before that, I was the most poor child you could imagine. I had often had no clothes to wear. I was a little happy when my mother was alive because I got at least a daily meal since I was a child. But after my mother’s death, that is where the trouble began. My older sister and brother stopped going to school just to take care of us. Sometimes they would come home without anything for dinner, morning or lunch. I would cry but all in vein.
The mother of our father was our neighbor. But she was the worst neighbor you could ever have. She had given her son (my father) a metal rod to hit my mother with and it is what he did. He came home drunk and almost burned down the thatched. He chased us outside and was left with my mother. He threw hot ashes and fire on her calling her names and hitting her with fire wood. We had no other choice except to scream for help. We were not strong enough to protect our poor mother. Father took the metal rod and hit my mother with it on the forehead. On realizing what he had done, he tried to treat her by putting medicines on her forehead and telling her sorry. My mother, before that, had a lot of disease from getting beat all of the time and shouted at.
I had planned to kill my grandmother when I was older because of the crime she did to my mother. But when I talked to my sponsors about it, they comforted me and told me not to revenge…
Some of my aunts really hated me that when I went to ask for food. They would send the children to chase me away with stones and
their dogs. But through God’s love, I am safe and sound under his wings. I am fed well in IAA, clothed and taken care of. I was not going to school long before that because there was no one to pay the school fees. My fourth borne sister never went to school long before that because there was only nursery school. So my mother’s mother (Mary Wyaguthie) took both me and our second last sister. She tried all she could to educate us by paying school fees and buying uniforms. Her sons and daughters are all married and have children. There was a time when my grandmother had no more strength to take care of us. So she separated us. But she did not let go of my sister who would be helping her. I was given to my aunt who has big daughters and took care of me for two months. Then from there, there was a grandmother (great aunt) in Njabini who I was given to and did not want me to be taken away from her. I went to school there for two years from class two and three. I got good positions and I passed. I
used to go to visit my aunt who did not live very far. But one day, my uncle came home with news that there was a home that they were taking orphans. He hurried me to get there in time. I didn’t get to tell people goodbye. It was the plan that I got accepted.
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Dennis
non-member comment
under His wings
Hey Jeremy, Nelson said, "But through God’s love, I am safe and sound under his wings." Check out Malachi 4:2. Then the story of the woman who sought to touch the hem of Jesus garment in Luke 8:43-47. The word of Wing and Hem in Hebrew is the same 'kanaph'. This is a messianic prophecy in Mal 4:2 fulfilled in Luke's story about this woman. Then Nelson, you and me and all who believe are benefactors. Praying for you brother. In Christ Dennis