Dusty roads, trash everywhere, the stinch of open sewage, goats grazing in the trash, chickens scratching through the dirt, a chaotic mass of matatus and other public transport vehicles in traffic jams, black clouds of diesel fuels pumping full force from the buses, horns honking in impatience, people dodging traffic as they race across the street, everyone in a hurry to get anywhere and no where fast. People sitting along the dirt path…some with leprosy and begging, some with their items to sell you…fruits and veggies, wallets and purses, coats and shoes, jewelry…whatever they can to make any kind of money, some just sitting and watching the day pass…as they do everyday. It’s hard to breathe here with all the polution…it’s hard to see with all the dust constantly finding a way behind my glasses AND huge sunglasses. Of all the places we’ve been so far, with this decription, it seems we could be in anyplace here in Kenya, but this day we found ourselves in Mathare.
We were welcomed by the children at the school as they stood with warm smiles, clapping their hands and chanting loudly, “WELCOME! WELCOME! WELCOME! WELCOME! The chant would last until everyone was in this small classroom with students ranging from grades kindergarten to 6th grade.
We would file in and before we could make it to the other side of this small class room, different students would break formation to give us as big of a hug as they could and we do the same. Here is Joseph with me in the picture. This 12 year old boy cried as we would end our time with them. It was a Monday last week and we were divided into three groups of six. I and five other Real Life students were to go into the slums that were across the street. This is where Joseph lives…along with 700,000 other extremely poor people not including the children. Before we could even get there, we would run into a mob like group of people standing in a circle yelling and pointing. They were just across the street from the school. As we walked up to see what all the commotion was about, we noticed a guy laying on the ground. He had on blue jeans and a tattered orange t-shirt. He looked to be about 15 years old or so. He was dead. A group of his friends had dumped his body there just minutes ago and drove off. From what I’m told, he died from the illegal brew they make from sewage water. They can’t afford alcohol, so they make their own…illegally. As we walked through the slums, we saw first hand how they were making it. At one point, one of the barrels burst open and began spewing some kind of brown chemical…and they drink this stuff. They drink it to forget their sorrows…and it kills them in the end. They die burdened and hopeless. For them, it is better to die than live in the hell they are in…but is it?
I pray Joseph grows up remembering that he is a child of God that matters to God and that he is forever loved by God. I pray He remembers that God is his only Hope and his Protector. Joseph is only one boy that wasn’t counted among the 700,000 people in those slums, but he is who God allowed me the opportunity to encounter this week. Pray for him and the other 68 students who attend this free school where they are able to get three meals a week.
Blessings to you all!!
