In the R5 camps, the homes are made of zinc-which are small metal buildings about the size of a backyard storage shed. Moms, dads, children, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins all live together in these tiny homes. There is tapped electricity for the businesses, but not the houses. The wires run all along the dirt roads and lay in puddles of water. We were told each year both children and adults die from electrocution as a result of the dangerous wiring. There is no running water. There are no bathrooms. There are bars everywhere, the drinking culture here is very evident and devastating.
Truth bomb before reading further: what is viewed as the absolute bare minimum in America is considered luxury in these neighborhoods.
The people here are living in complete poverty. But, the people are kind, warm, and joyful. They have so little, yet have generous hearts to share what little they do have. The children here are sweet as sugar and I have thoroughly enjoyed spending time in children’s ministry and helping at various preschools around the neighborhood. During my latest afternoon at the preschool, we had a time designated for lunch. Most of the children had a little something to snack on, but not every one. I looked around at the faces of those who didn’t have food and felt an emotional emptiness for their empty tummies. It was in the midst of this that a young boy put a small cookie into my hands as well as my teammate Clare’s hands. I looked at his lunch-he only had three small cookies and he gave away two of them! I went back to him and asked if I could give the cookies to our friends who didn’t have any food, and together we gave the two boys a cookie each. The smiles on their faces when we handed them the cookies were radiant-full of gratitude and joy.
Later this same day we spent our afternoon at the local dump. We met families and children who’s only income is selling aluminum cans and metal wires they’ve collected from the piles of garbage. The ground was littered with broken glass from bottles and all the children were walking around barefoot. I saw a pregnant mother holding her toddler in one arm and digging through the garbage with her other. I saw a tiny little girl with no shoes, and scars covering her face and scalp from a terrible burn walking around alone. The harsh reality of this devastating poverty made my stomach churn and my heart ache.
The children at the dump are from the same community as the children at the preschool. These kids parents send them alone to the dump to dig through trash to sell. Their toys are made from pieces of garbage they take home. Many of them rely on soup kitchens for their meals. They share a tiny one room home with extended family that has no water, and no electricity.
Yet, the little boy from the preschool chose to share part of his lunch with me, ME, because he saw I wasn’t eating. He has next to nothing, and he chose give away what tiny amount he did have.
If a year four year old child who doesn’t have three guaranteed meals a day can offer up most of his lunch to a hungry friend, I can learn to share with a happier heart from the abundance that I have. We all can.
Friends, my time in Africa is coming to a close. I can’t believe it. On the 27th I begin my journey to Southeast Asia; with my first country being Malaysia. My entire squad would appreciate prayers for safe travels. After these upcoming flights to Asia, the next plane I’ll be sitting on will be bringing me home!
