Saturday was our first day back at the IDP Camp. Our day
started with team prayer and a stop for petrol (gas) before descending the
bumpy road to Mahi Mahiu. We met some friends at the bottom of the hill and
piled them into the back of our Pajaro. Our first stop was to visit Jeremiah’s
and Laurence’s Barber/Tailoring shop. There was excitement all around as we
reunited. Laurence, who was in a matatu (15 passenger public transportation)
accident right before we left, showed us his latest x-rays and how his
collarbone protruded painfully outward. It seemed to have gotten worse rather
than better, but he was still busy on his machine. Our team, the Kenyan friends
we brought, along with Jeremiah and his brother all prayed for Laurence’s shoulder
to be healed. (Please join us in praying healing for Laurence and if you leave
a comment that you are praying for him, I’ll let him know.)
Our next stop was Mama Esther’s where we eat lunch about 4
or 5 times a week. She is an amazing woman who lives in the main IDP camp and
she has started a restaurant. A filling portion of beans, rice and chapatti
cost me about 75 cents. A single mother of three, Esther was proud to share with
us that her kids were still in school and doing well.
As we drove to Camp Tumaini, I held back tears from all the
excitement inside of me. We arrived and parked by a second water tank that some
visitors had installed while we were in America. I got out of the car and the
camp was seemingly empty. Matt Patch began to call out a few Swahili and Kikuyu
phrases he knew… “Kuja hapa!� (come here). Three young kids rounded the corn
er
of the farthest row of tents and upon seeing us began to run toward us, yelling
our names. Before reaching us, little Peter came with Salome on his back, whom I
gladly scooped up and held tight. (I’ve missed this baby so much!) Soon there
after we were surrounded by young kids joyfully hugging us and holding our
hands.
We came to find out that all the adults, except two shoshos
(grandmothers), were at a funeral of a woman from another camp who had recently
been in a matatu accident where 10 people died. As they walked home to their
tents they saw us from a distance. It brought my heart such delight to see
their huge smiles and excitement to see us. The hugs seemed to keep coming as I
greeted each of my friends whom I’d missed. Elizabeth was especially glad to
see me and told me Salome had been asking for me. Zipporah came with Abigail,
who acted shy before becoming her adorable, bubbly self.
I went with Purity and Stephen to their tent where I spent
an hour or two catching-up with them. Tabitha, a school-aged girl, found me and
greeted me. Hugging me tightly with genuineness in her eyes she said,
“Courtney, I’ve missed you very much… When you were in the US I cried…where is
my cake?� My response: “I’ve missed you too, but I did not bring you any cake,
only a hug.� Pouting and disappointed, Tabitha pleated, “But I cried.� (I later
found out it is customary for a parent or relative to bring cake or a sweet
after being away for a long time here.)
The rest of the school-aged children later greeted me with
hugs at the main camp where I also got to see Rachel, an amazing young woman
who has been leading and discipling a group of youth. The children all pouted
as we said our goodbyes for the day and headed back to Kijabe. As we drove back
up the hill, I thought to myself that I wish everyday of my life held this much
excitement and joy. Perhaps that would be exhausting or loose its specialness
and become normal. I guess we need the valleys to appreciate the mountaintops…
but for me, the Rift Valley is a high place in my heart.
