Our Travels to Homes in Kenya
This is an update from our missionaries to Kenya. We’ve had three people in Nakuru, Kenya for over six weeks now, and they’ll return April 22. The story of how this church started there is a marvelous one.
The church is located in a slum. Even outside of the slum, Kenyans are poor, with an unemployment rate over 60%. When we visited last spring, a young man explained how many of them make a living.
In the next week, I’ll add an explanation of how the church started that will include that young man’s explanation to me.
I have added a number of “editor’s notes” to this update so that you understand all the comments.
Greetings to you all from the inside of a van traveling to beautiful waterfalls about an hour and a half away and the way George is driving we should be there in an hour.
I wanted to tell you about last night’s visits. [Ed. Note: Our missionaries are trying to visit every house in the church these last several weeks, and they’re visiting two or more each day.] We went into the houses of some of the poorest people in the world. It was very hard to watch and pretty much left us all speechless. It really drove home to my heart the words Yahshua said: “Take no thought for your life what you shall eat drink or wear … “ That’s about all these people have, food and 2 pairs of clothes. Some of these people barely had food to eat; one widow had no food in her house at all. Let me see if I can paint the picture for you all.
The women we went to see all live in the same little area about 200 yards from the church. The first woman we went to see was named Mary, and she is an incredible well of life that springs out all the time. She loves God and knows Him so much.
As we walked into the courtyard made up mostly of dirt and rock, about 25 kids all recognized us from last time and came running [Ed. Note: “Last time” is a soccer game that Mala, the writer, set up with kids with one of the several soccer balls she brought for that purpose.]. They all clung to our arms and our hands saying “Hello, how are you?” over and over again. We stepped over the chicken poop and trash on the ground and stepped into Mary’s humble abode. There she was, radiant and beaming. (She has such a beautiful smile even though she is missing her canine tooth on the upper right side of her mouth).
Her room was very dark since it was about 5:30 pm but she made no move to turn on the light. Come to think of it, I do not remember seeing a light or light switch on the wall; only a neat little clock that did not work hanging from a small nail.
She told us over and over again how glad she was to have us in her home and we were welcome to come any time. Then we asked her about the foot-powered sewing machine sitting there under the one window where light was shining in.
She explained to us that she used the machine to repair the destitute children’s clothes when they got torn or ripped, but the machine was broken. Abba asked George to ask her how much it would cost to fix it, and she told George 400 shillings which was about 5 US dollars. [Ed. Note: “Abba” is Noah Taylor, founder of Rose Creek Village.]
Abba and I got into an argument over which one of us was going to help pay for the repair. We both wanted to do it, so we agreed to each pay half and then gave her a little extra. She was overwhelmed with gratitude and thanked us over and over.
Then she showed us her little store that was attached to the front of her house where she sold little packages of processed foods, such as soup, and cereal, soap, laundry detergent, candy, and, to our delight, eggs. We bought about 18 of them at 10 cents an egg. Then we hugged her good-bye and went to put our eggs into the car. Then George said, “Let’s go to the next house.” Little did we know what awaited us at the “next house.”
Going into the next house after being in Mary’s house was like going from the brightest and cheeriest place to the land of gloom and doom. We went from a very joyous, beaming Mary to a very sorrowful, depressed and hopeless Louise. It was so heavy in that next house that I felt I could barely breath.
When we entered the house Louise, a woman only one year older than me … 30 … I mean 45, slowly rose from her chair and with a face that said, “I wish I could have died yesterday so I would not have to be here today,” extended her hand to us and then wearily sat back down onto her hard wooden chair with no cushion.
The house was dark and tiny with no light anywhere and a thin sheet hung up right beside us, where the little fire stove and one small bed were. George began asking Louise questions in Swahili, and she very slowly and with great pain in her face replied to each one.
Just then, in the midst of the darkness ,there was a sudden tiny movement to the right of her chair on the floor. Amma [Ed. Note: Amma is Abba’s wife, Haviylah] saw it first and asked, “What’s that?”
I bent down to look and there seated on the hard, cold cement floor was a little baby who looked to be about 1 year old, with snot coming out of his nose. George asked about the baby and then told us her response: “Louise said this baby belongs to her daughter.”
“When the baby was just 4 months old her daughter left him on the front step of Louise’s house and then ran away.” He ended by saying, “She has not seen her daughter since, so this is an abandoned baby.”
The baby began to whine and look up at Louise, but just then she got up out of her chair to go and get the other 3 young children who live with her. I immediately reached for the little baby boy and put him in my lap. It was then I realized he had a stinky diaper.
“Oh boy,” I thought to myself.
Just then 3 sweet little ones came walking through the thin curtain hanging in the doorway. They shyly put out their hands to us in way of introduction. There were 2 boys and one girl. The boys looked to be about 3 and 7, and the little girl looked to be about 8 years old. George explained that the 7-year-old boy was also left there by Louise’s daughter at the same time she left little baby William Mandella.
George then asked Amma if she had any questions and Amma, who appeared as speechless and dazed as I did, finally asked, “Ask her if she ate today?”
Louise told George that they did not have any food in the house but that Mary, the lady we had first visited, had brought them all over lunch to eat.
No wonder this woman looked like she wanted to die. She had no food to eat in her house and here she had 4 kids under the age of 8. And 2 of them were her daughter’s children! George said that Louise had just yesterday started a job cleaning hotel rooms at a nearby hotel.
The whole time we were there Louise just stared blankly into space and looked very depressed. My heart really went out to her and I kept trying to think of ways that I could take the cute little Kenyan baby boy home with me to all of you. I felt sure Louise would be just fine with it, as she looked like she was feeling totally overwhelmed.
I still get depressed just thinking about Louise and her situation. Finally, Abba prayed for God to bless Louise’s house, and we said good-bye. I gave her a hug and told her I loved her then I handed her the sweet little baby boy that I already felt attached to. She hugged me back lightly like someone in a daze. I have never seen such despair in someone’s eyes before.
Little did I know that we were going to be seeing a woman in even greater poverty than Louise later that night.
Then we went over to visit one of my very favorite Nakuru teenage boys, Lloyd, and his mom, little sister and little brother. They were so sweet. Lloyd’s moms name is, you’re not gonna believe this … Mary. That’s right! Another Mary!
And get this: both Mary’s lead their Tuesday night home group meeting. They are both awesome ladies with huge hearts that love God A LOT!
For example, here we were sitting at Lloyd’s mom’s house and she says, “Abba’s teachings have been helping me so much!” “I am seeing where I do not love enough.” “For example, this morning I was meditating on Abba’s teachings and I saw in myself a selfish desire rising up in me, and I asked God to please take that selfish desire out of me.”
Selfish desire? This family barely had anything at all, and here she was upset with herself for selfish desire. Maybe she was just desiring a pair of shoes without holes in them for Lloyd; or a jacket for her little boy so he had some covering from the rains that have come; or a 6 inch pencil for her daughter instead of a little stub with no eraser. Hearing things like this has really made me take a hard look at how and where I spend my money … God’s money. I am sure it is doing the same to you all.
We in America are good at “making money,” so when we do that we can send it to our needy family in Nakuru, Kenya. I bet there are at least a dozen ways we could cut back and save money to give.
I don’t want to start sounding like one of those “give me your money for my ministry” things. I’m just saying where there are real needs in our family of God (like no food or diapers), and we can meet some of that need by denying ourselves once in awhile.
We should do it. One hundred US dollars is about 7500 Kenyan shillings. The average Kenyan makes about $2.00 US a day. That is about 40 dollars a month and half of that goes to rent. The rest of the $20 has to go towards food, clothes, medical expenses and personal items like soap and shampoo. Nothing else … nothing else.
And the food they eat almost every day is a white corn grit, pasty, thick hunk of stuff called ugali. They love the taste of it and usually they have that with rice and beans. And if you’re lucky, salt.
These brothers and sisters are rich in other ways: ways like their faith and belief in God! It is so very great, and their worry and fretting is so very small compared to many Americans. Their contentment and rest is amazing, and their trust and love is overflowing. I’d trade money for all that any day!
Anyway, “back to our original program”:
Earlier I mentioned that “little did I know but we were about to see a widow who had even less than Louise.” It was hard to even sit in that house. It is a memory that shall never leave my mind. It was a scene that broke my heart.
Mary stopped in front of the last door to the building. The door was open and a thin stream of light was coming out of it. “Well at least this woman has turned the light on in her house,” I thought to myself. I was not prepared at all for what I was about to see.
The whole room was bare except for one wooden couch, 4 yellow, plastic water jugs, a bag filled with dishes and pots and two thin, stained sheets with holes in them hanging from a white rope that separated half the room. The only thing hanging from the wall was a toothbrush that was stuck into the wall where a deep crevice had formed in the mortar.
The woman who greeted us was extremely thin and did not even shake our hands with her hands, but extended her hand to us so we could shake her wrist. She had 2 little girls shake our hands as well. I did not know where to sit or to stand. I could barely think. The whole feel of the room was POVERTY like I had never seen it before.
The woman placed her 2 small girls on the cold, cement floor in front of her and then sat her frail, thin form down on one of the small, plastic, yellow water jugs. Abba and Amma sat down on the couch, and George stood at the front of the room near where I was standing. We were all pretty much speechless. Oh … Mary, Lloyd’s mom, sat down on another water jug near the door taking it all in.
George asked the lady her name and her children’s names. She had been coming to his church for about 2 months and loved going because of the love and care she found there. Apparently Mary and George had helped to get food for her and her children before.
Just then another young girl came in the door and handed the mom a few coins and a small plastic bag half filled with something white and powdery. Then the mom introduced this daughter to us. She went on to say some things in Swahili to George. “Oh,” George said.
We wondered what she had told him. And then George told us.
“She says that the littlest girl here was her oldest daughter’s little girl. Her oldest daughter died last year in November, so she now has her to take care of.” We asked how she made money, and George said that she tried to do people’s laundry, but today she was unable to find any laundry to do so she came home empty-handed.
George asked me if I had any questions, and I could barely think let alone speak. I think I mumbled something like, “Tell her we love her very much,” but even that seemed empty.
She smiled at me as George translated what I had said to her. One by one each little girl came over to sit with Abba, and he held them on his lap. I got his camera and took some pictures of him holding the girls. It was very sweet. They were very sweet.
I love you all and we continue to thank God for each of you. You come to our minds and hearts all the time. Please continue to pray for our unity and love here for one another.
Please pray for me that I would be slow to speak and quick to hear and that I would move out of rest and learn to be more still inside and … the list goes on and on.
God bless you!
Love,
Mala
Posted on Apr 15, 02:58 PM | Categorized under Articles—
