Oh Kenya, I have heard many stories about you! I was really pumped coming into ths month and I couldn't wait to see what God was going to do. Coming off of my favorite and most spirit- filled month of the race in Rwanda, I had a revived excitement for ministry.
We took an overnight bus from Nairobi to the city of Bungoma. Our contact called the bus driver and asked him to drop us off in our ministry village of Bukembe. We realized when we arrived in Bungoma at 5 AM that he hadn't dropped us off. He, then, told us that he didn't feel safe stopping there at night.
WOAH, Not what this white girl wanted to hear! A Kenyan man didn't feel safe?!
The bus driver, finally, took us back to Bukembe around 8:30 AM. At this point, I was really exhausted, but was determined to keep a positive attitude. Our pastor brought his youngest son out to greet us and that did my heart well. We found out that they have 6 sweet children that we get to giggle with this month.
The family gave up their home for us and are staying in a mud shack outside. They don't have any electricity, they sleep on the floors, and smush 8 people into a really small space. Our house is a shack/warehouse that they have transformed into a home by hanging sheets up as dividers.
This is the first contact we have lived with that is in extreme poverty. The children wear the same clothes day-after-day, that are tattered and covered in holes. Their bellies stick out, from what I think is worms and poor diet. They don't bathe that often or have anything to clean themselves after they use the restroom. It broke my heart to see how much they didn't have.
During ministry, I realized that this kind of poverty is common around Bukembe. Every where we go, we see immense need. People are constantly asking us for money and following us around. It is so hard to see so much desperation, but not be able to do much about it. People see a white girl from America and they assume I can free them from their poverty. They don't understand that I am a 22 year old, who has been unemployed for a year, and is using other people's money to serve on the mission field. They get upset and think that I don't WANT to help them.
I saw an even more heart breaking form of poverty at the school we teach at. The school is full of primarily orphaned children. They used to have a building where the children could sleep and eat, but they couldn't afford to keep it running. To keep the kids off of the street, they placed the children with families around the area. A lot of these familes aren't christian and are living in poverty themselves. They treat the foster children like slaves and many are beaten. They don't get food, unless it's scraps from what the family's real children have eaten. They come to school tired and mal-nourished, which makes it really hard to keep their attention.
I teach a combination class of both 1'st and 2'nd grades. I have over 50 students in my class. They range from the ages of 5 to 13, since many can't afford school fees until they are older. Some kids in the class struggle to do addition equations, while others have mastered multiplication. Trying to keep everyone involved and interactive is a struggle. Most kids distract themselves by cutting objects, and each other, with little razors that they use for pencil sharpeners. It was very long days, and a lot of times I left wondering if I made a difference at all. I had to come to grips with the fact that I probably wouldn't be able to fill all of their heads with the knowledge of Science, English, or Mathematics, but I could fill their hearts with the love of Christ.
I can't free the world from poverty.
I can't give every orphan a home.
I can't insure every child gets a proper education.
But I can give them hope.
I can share riches with them that this world could never contain.
I can introduce children to a Father that has love for them deeper than the ocean.
I could tell them the most important story anyone could ever hear.
I can't fix the world, but I know the God who will.
　
　
Stay tuned for Part 2!
