Kenya
“He who dies with the most toys wins”—sometimes referred to as the mantra of capitalism—is a phrase that drives our materialistic culture in the U.S. As I packed for my first trip to the continent of Africa, I knew I was about to witness the harsh reality of indigenous and impoverished people fighting to adapt to such a world—their survival depending on it.
How did I get here? Last year, Global Hope received a random email from a Kenyan woman seeking sponsorship for the orphanage she ran called The Hope for Orphans Rehabilitation Center (HOREC), or The Rescue Center. Ike Elliot, our president, receives similar emails on a regular basis, but nothing less than a nudge from the Holy Spirit made him open this one, and reply. After several months of correspondence, the board voted to invest some time and resources into learning more about Christine, and the children she cared for.
So here I was. After a hot, dusty, and congested drive through the city of Nairobi in my friend Jen’s SUV (Jennifer Phillips is a friend of mine who also worked with abandoned children in Arad, Romania and now lives in Kenya. Hmm…coincidence?), we turned onto the road that would take us to the Rescue Center. Since many side roads do not have proper names, Christine Wambui, the resourceful founder and director of this orphanage, agreed to wait for us on the main road. We kept our eyes peeled for a woman in a red shirt. After calling several times—thinking that we must have missed her—we finally spotted Christine on the side of the road, waving to us with a broad smile on her face. She jumped in the car and led us a short way off the road to the orphanage.
I was greeted by a chorus line of children–lined up from the front door to the front gate– holding signs that said, “Welcome to HOREC,” and “Please Feel At Home.” As they sang, I made my way down the row and shook each one of their hands, trying to look each one of them in their little faces. That’s when I realized what a big event this was for them. This foreigner will blow through town over just a few days, with means to bless their lives. This white girl, when she leaves, might leave them with just a little more than what they have. They were eager to make a good impression.
The Rescue Center is home to 24 children: twenty-one girls and three boys. The oldest is 14 (and entering her first year of high school—she wants to be a doctor) and the youngest is 3. Five of these 24 children are HIV positive. All of them have lost one or both parents to HIV/AIDS.
In previous emails from Christine, she had sent us a budget of their monthly expenses. Within the first 15 minutes of being with them I realized that the budget she sent was not the budget they have, it was the budget they need. They have no consistent income—only random donations, some local and some foreign. I don’t honestly know where they come from, but they don’t seem to come often. When I arrived, Christine was 5 months behind in rent. The corner of the “office” served as their pantry–stacked with three large bags of beans, rice and what we know as cream of wheat. I suspected, and later confirmed, that this was it for their food—there were no fruits or vegetables, eggs or milk stashed away in an icebox somewhere (in the house with no electricity!)
No one who served at the Rescue Center received a salary. They lived day-to-day, believing that God will provide what they cannot see, and accepting the generosity of their community—one kind neighbor brought a pile of kale during my visit.
I was literally and figuratively a world away from what I knew. I don’t need to take the time or space on this page to explain the ease in which I access fresh foods, clean water and electricity at home. Anyone living in America under these conditions would probably feel a little less than blessed. In fact, we might question whether or not they were cursed! But the overwhelming impression I received from these children–these people–was one of joy and optimism. How is that possible? I had to take some time to hear their stories before I could figure it out, but I soon understood that they praise God because they had been rescued.
Many of these girls were caring for their dying parents while taking care of younger siblings. School was no longer an option. I learned that, in Africa, girl orphans are often vulnerable to male family members who survive their parents. One girl from the Rescue Center saw her mother murdered by an uncle over land issues. Others were sexually abused (repeatedly) by the men who took over their homes.
Their faith is not based on their condition, but rather the joy and relief they feel when think of what might have been. As the Psalmist said, “If God had not been for us when everyone was against us, We would have been swallowed alive…” (Psalm 124:2-3, The Message)
I’ve paused to think recently: Where would I be if God had not moved on my behalf? If He would have given up on me when I rebelled? If He had not provided Christian peers during my high school years? If He had not shown me mercy when the consequences of my own sin threatened to swallow me alive?
One of my most memorable experiences from this trip didn’t take place at the Rescue Center, but at the orphanage where my friend Jen works. Tucked away in the mountains of Naivasha, Kenya this ministry cares for about 20 orphans. That evening I was sitting on Jen’s bed reading a book as she was trying to get all of her kids in and out of the showers. For the sake of time, she sent two little girls into the shower in her room. When they arrived, ready to go with their little bath towels wrapped around them, it was immediately apparent that these girls were in the middle of a full-blown giggle fit—and they could not stop! I listened as they dropped the soap, knocked things over, got their towels wet… every time they turned around they giggled even more! As I sat there listening to their laughter, my back to the shower wall, I thought to myself: this works. The work that we do, taking children—orphans—from vulnerable living situations and giving them a safe place to live, grow and thrive: it works! They were giggling—just like little girls are supposed to.
He who dies with the most toys wins? Not here. Not in God’s economy. In this world they may have nothing, but Christ says, “Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters…your soul will delight in the richest of fare.” (Isaiah 55)