I sat there, speaking with them face to face. They lost their parents in 2006, to HIV. Ann is 12. Peter is 10. They stay with their older sister and her husband, who have children of their own. The husband has no job, and rarely finds work. They would be happy simply to eat consistently and have clothing. Their desire is to be in school.
They looked to me. For help. For hope.
All I can do is look to God. For help. For hope. For these children.
Once your eyes are open to the world all around you, doing nothing is no longer an option.
It can be overwhelming, with so many people in need. So many in bondage. So many in slavery. So many that go without food and water. So many that no longer have parents, or any family. So many mistreated, abused. So many sick. Where do you start? Doing something is always better than doing nothing.
Mpeketoni, Kenya, 8 orphans standing in front of their parents graves
We drove for awhile, into the forest. The dirt road became less and less a road, and soon we were simply driving through the jungle. We bounced around the car like it was a ride at an amusement park. We arrived at a little hut in the middle of Somewhere, Kenya. We were greeted by 8 children and their aunt. We sat around a tree and tried to learn their names. Bishop Busuru (our ministry contact) whispered in my ear and told me how their mother died after giving birth to the eighth child, and how their father died a week ago from stomach ulcers. He pointed to two mounds in the dirt about 15 feet from where we were sitting and told me they were the parents graves. Their aunt has stayed with them since the burial of their father. She has her own family, but right now, if she wasn’t there these kids would be all alone.
Towards the end Bishop told me there was more to add to their files – each orphan we come across has a file, and we are in the process of typing them and hopefully helping these unknown children become known to someone. As Bishop told me what to write, my eyes quickly filled with tears as he described how she died. I guess writing it down made it more real. I regained my composure, and we took a picture of each child to go with their files, said goodbye, and headed back through the African forest in Bishops car.
Now that I know, doing nothing is no longer an option.
