Life in Kenya

There are some things about life in Kenya that I know to be true, yet I am still surprised when I am confronted by them. For example, I know that the pace of life is slower, the concept of personal space disappears when riding in a car or sitting in church and the idea of “safety” isn’t the god it is in the U.S., but it’s so easy to forget when you’re used to doing things your way.

This was illustrated during my second week in Kipkaren, when I asked to catch a ride to the market with the ELI vehicle. No problem! The truck would be leaving at about 9am, they said, and there was plenty of room for me. I scurried around that morning getting the girls and myself ready for what would be our first time without each other since we’d arrived in Kenya.

I checked in at the office at 9:07-ish and Cosmos, the driver, said we just had to wait for Betty and we’d go. I hopped into the car, put my seatbelt on and waited. One hour, 2 more goodbyes to the girls, and 10 passengers-in-a-cab-meant-for-5 later, I was laughing at myself for thinking I’d be wearing (or needing) a seatbelt.

Another part of life here that always startles me, though it’s a common enough occurrence, is when people ask for money. Sometimes this request is demanded belligerently by drunk young men on the side of the road – “Mzungu, give me 10 shillings!” This type of solicitation is ignorable. Sometimes it comes from glassy-eyed street kids in Eldoret, high from whiffing glue, hungry for so much more than bread. More often, though, the requests come from earnest strangers who know that if you don’t ask, you definitely won’t receive.

One day when Lillian, Elami and I walked into Kipkaren town, a woman asked Lillian in Swahili if it was OK to ask me for her daughter’s school fees. Lillian said no, but the woman asked anyway. I said, "Welcome to my home and we can talk more about a good way for us to help," but she never came.

Recently, Elami, Tovah and I were playing outside our compound, when a very pregnant woman came by. We exchanged the usual greetings and then she asked for Bishop Tarus. “Bishop” is our director here and his name gets passed around for miles as someone who can help people. He often talks to us at staff meetings about the fact that ELI helps people in ways that are empowering, but that many people still just want a handout. From the time he wakes up in the morning till late at night, he talks with people who have traveled from far to ask him for money or jobs. It’s exhausting for him, but he still tries – and urges us staff – to treat these people with compassion and to at least be ready to listen.

“Bishop is in America right now,” I told the woman.

She asked “Where do you live?” Ugh! Dreading where this conversation was going, I pointed down the road a short piece – just there.

“Tuende,” she said – let’s go.

My mind shouted “NO!” and raced with lame excuses. The familiar feeling of extreme discomfort over money issues reared its ugly head. Empowerment is tricky. It’s a distant notion when a young mom, pregnant, without obvious resources is telling you she’s hungry and she wants to come to your house. But a handout is not helpful in the long run either.

I hesitated, but God said “Relax – just start with a cup of tea.” A cup of tea I can do, so I said “Karibu, tuende.” Welcome, let’s go.

Over our cup of tea, I learned that this young woman has two other small children at home and that she had indeed planned to ask Bishop for money. We talked about family planning and child spacing – a little too late, I’m afraid. Then I struggled in Swahili through a story from 2 Kings 4. A widow cried out to Elisha for help – her family was in debt and a creditor was coming to take her two sons as slaves if she couldn’t pay. Elisha asked two questions – "How can I help?" And "What do you have in your house?" The woman said she had nothing, except for a little olive oil. Elisha asked her to go and gather as many jars as she could, then to go back to her house and pour oil from her jar into all the jars. When there were no more jars, there was no more oil to pour. She sold the oil and paid off her debts and had more for her and her sons to live off of.

This story is the ultimate model for empowerment. What if she had thought, “Whatever! That’s too much work”? And what if she had gone to ask someone else for help? Maybe she would have gotten some money, but probably not enough to get her out of her trouble completely, and almost certainly not enough to sustain her and her sons. What if Elisha had simply given her money because he didn’t want the discomfort of saying no? She would have missed an opportunity to grow in faith and confidence.

The woman in my living room needed such an opportunity. The trick for us is finding ways for people to bring the jars, so to speak. Coincidentally, an acquaintance of mine had arranged to come later the same afternoon to talk about options for her children’s school fees. Davis and I had talked over possibilities ahead of time – a micro loan? Or could we sponsor her for an ELI empowerment training weekend Ilula to learn about bread ovens and small business management? Maybe I could buy some of the crafts this woman makes…

There are ways for people to bring their jars; ways to chip away at poverty one story at a time. These ways take time and require effort and faith - on both sides of the equation.

So, after a cup of chai and a chat, I gave the woman a few bananas to take home, from my children to hers. She left with a broad grin and promised to come to the clinic for prenatal care. I escorted her up our path, wondering what I had accomplished. Was that an effective interaction? Had I done the right thing? Was it the right mix of being open and willing, but not giving a handout?

Like I said, empowerment is tricky. But people like the Marus prove that these things are attainable. The Marus are not wealthy, lofty people, unable to identify with those touched by poverty. They are an average Kenyan family, themselves empowered to break free from unemployment and poverty, who are turning around and empowering others.

Yesterday, I told Emily Maru how blessed I was that she and Mr. Maru had been so willing to open their homes. I wish you all could meet the Marus. Kelvine and Ivine have not just found a secure roof over their heads–the Marus will love them thoroughly and unconditionally.

There’s no easy way to wrap up this message, like there’s no easy way to wrap up each request for help. We’re all just people. We need your prayers that we’ll be willing to listen and ready with wise answers that have the right mix of “How can I help?” and “What do you have in your house?”

Jen Davis
ELI Maternal/Child Health Nurse

News from the Congo

We received this message from Terry in the Congo:

"It has been a great day in Bukavu, Congo. We spent 7 hours visiting the ELI school. It is located in the heart of a slum. During the war in 2000, the slum was essentially in the crossfire of the conflict. People were killed and children had nowhere to run. Today, the ELI school sits like a beacon on the hillside. The community believes it was 'dropped from heaven' as one mother told us today.

"When we arrived, we were greeted by 350 singing children. They danced for us, read poems of thanks, enacted a drama written by the students to express what life was like before and after the school was created. We spent over an hour listening to the teachers, encouraging them, and
sharing together. We then visited the 6 classrooms (grade 1-6) with children ranging from 5 to 15. A typical classroom had 4 children per bench with 45-55 students per grade. They are served 1 meal each day...for many it is their only meal of the day. The feeding program was created because children would start crying after being in school for a few hours due to hunger pains. Upon completion of grade 6, the students take a national test and for the last 3 years have had a 100% passing rate. Amazing.

"At 1:30, the children leave the school and the 2nd shift comes in . . . they call them the Orientation Classes. Normally a child would continue with school but we do not have the classrooms or teachers to offer a secondary school. This limits the students' future . . . they cannot go on to a university. But the 2-year orientation program prepares them to attend a future vocational school where they learn sewing, mechanics, agriculture, etc. At the end of the program, one very sharp young boy asked what was next for him. He wanted to become a doctor . . . others wanted to be journalists, nurses, pastors, teachers. It was difficult to say that right now, we have nothing more to offer. We walked away desperately wanting to find a way to bring these kids to reality.

"On Saturday, Lindsey, Terry, and Estelle will be traveling by boat from Goma to Bukavu. They will be accompanied by an immigration officer to help minimize the bribes and expedite their journey. Micah, Kierra, Ron and Julius will be travelling to Chihonga, a remote village 2 hours away. ELI has a 'goat loan/giving' project which is transforming the region. More on this another time. Please pray for safe journeys. This land is not easy; the wars have done damage and caused suffering beyond belief."

Please pray . . .

• for continued safety for the team
• that God will use this time to bless to Congolese as well as to speak to the hearts of each person on the team
• that God will continue to show ELI how we can minister to the Congolese, to bring hope, and to establish his Kingdom in their midst

There is Hope

There is hope
Originally uploaded by Boyznberry.

Incredible! What an amazing day I had at our recent Empowering Lives Aids Awareness Campaign.

When I arrived the 10 k race had finished and a crowd was gathered around the soccer field of the primary school we had borrowed for the day. Immediately I met the headmaster (Principal) of the school and he was thrilled to have ELI host such an event at this school and community.

The soccer game brought loud cheers as the local teams competed for the winners title. This was another of our strategies to gather a large crowd and rally people to know the devastating effects of AIDS, to get tested ("Know your status"), and to hear of the hope that is available for all through Jesus.

For three days, we held a music worship concert every evening with preaching where we shared the love of Christ and many made a decision to follow Christ.

During the three-day event, a total of 404 people were tested for HIV. Fourteen were positive. (These fourteen will now be receiving free treatment at the AMPATH clinic in Turbo.)

God knows how many lives were touched by the worship and testimonies. Over four thousand people attended one or more of the meetings.

God is good. This is another way that we are helping to reduce the future population of orphans. In the ELI Ilula Children's Home, over 75% of the children are orphaned because of AIDS. This campaign and the many other programs and campaigns we host each year are a vital part of our overall strategy to share the Gospel and change the futures of people and children for the better. Being tested and even just being given the opportunity to be tested is a powerful way to reach people and have them examine their lives, their lifestyles, and their eternal destinies.

Thank you again for your support and prayers.

Serving together,
Don

Celebrate!

Celebrate!
Originally uploaded by Boyznberry.

Yesterday, ELI celebrated with a group of ladies who used to brew potent alcohol for a living until ELI offered them a way out by making paper.

The ladies worked hard and a group of 37 decided in the end to pool their money and build rental units.

With the help of ELI friends, two of the three houses were officially opened yesterday.

Click on the photo to see more of the celebration.