Jason’s Trip

Looking down at my fingers on this keyboard, I am struggling with where to begin. So much happened today and my thoughts are many and jumbled.  I thought I saw the most desperate place yesterday, nothing doing.  Today was an emotionally difficult day.  I woke up anxious about it, but really didn’t fully understand why.  I understand better as the day is fading away. 

Tuesday in
Nairobi began with breakfast at the A.C.K. Guesthouse, where we are staying through Wednesday morning. After that, we left to go visit a slum in the middle of
Nairobi.  So far, every place we have been in
Nairobi has required long rides.  This morning’s ride, however, was only a short distance and ended at a fuel station.  Paul announced that we were meeting Lameck, our host from Fountain of Life Children’s Home, and picking up 2 armed soldiers. 

I was really anxious, wondering what in the world we were doing going to a place that required armed men.  I had some good prayer with the Lord this morning and found great peace in the light of the approaching challenge.  We drove across the road from the fuel station and entered a narrow road surrounded by row after row of shacks.  These shacks were covered with mud, tin, tarps, and no telling what all.  As we slowly traveled down this alley way, the passage grew narrower with each passing shack.  This entire slum is not even a square mile in size, and it lies in a valley.  Looking down from the top of that valley, all I could see was a sea rust colored tin and make-shift roofs. I noticed in the parts of
Africa that I have visited on this trip, anytime a white person is spotted by a child, they get very excited and yell “muzungu”.  Muzungu means “white man”.  Most children will chase you just to get an up close look at a muzungu.  The brave ones, which most of them are, will reach out to touch you. 

The normal pack of children began to follow us and watch every move we made.  Before long we stopped and Mike and Paul opened the door to get out.  I gathered my cameras and with mixed emotion got out of the comfort of the van.  I will never forget the feel of my first visit to a slum.  Initially, I was disconnected from my environment and fully intended to keep it that way, and the  two tall guys with guns behind me served as a great distraction keeping me from truly appreciating the setting around me. 

I imagine if I were flying over this slum, looking down on it would look like a maze.  Each shack was attached and there weren’t backdoors to any of them.  A series of  2-3 foot alley ways lead us to our first stop and the one room home of a lady named
Elizabeth.  The dirt floor in her house was at least 2 foot lower than the alley way outside.  Entry to the home required climbing down into it I watched as Pete, Jim, Joe, and Lameck crawl into meek little home. I approached the door and I was looking down into the room and saw Elizabeth She was a middle aged woman holding a less than year old baby.  Turns out her story is far to familiar in this slum. She had two daughters die of AIDS and leave behind children. 
Elizabeth’s sporadic income of a dollar a day came from her washing clothes for local Muslim people.  Her greatest needs were money to pay rent and buy food. 

Elizabeth’s one room, dirt floor, tin and tarp roof home cost her $12.00 per month. 
Elizabeth was already four months behind on rent and faced the fear of the landlord coming and taking her door off.  If her door were removed, that would open her home to threat and certain displacement of her family. 
Elizabeth knows, like we all do, without shelter what’s left?

Walking through this slum required careful steps.  The rusty blunt corners of tin were eye level and the ground was covered with ruts flowing with sewage.  We visited others in the slum all to find out they all were struggling to meet the bare necessities of life.  The very things I take for granted are missing in these people life. 

At one point, I spotted two little girls about 3 years old.  They were dirty and standing so close to a collection of sewage and trash.  An unexpected image hit my mind and caused me to enter into one of the most humbling experiences.  I pictured my kids in this place.  I was unsuccessful in keeping my mind from thinking about Jensen walking through this mess with no shoes.  I could vividly see Juddy Bear running down an alley way with no shirt or shoes but clothed with the yuck of the slum.  I visualized
Jackson leaning against a wall looking down at the ground.  Those thoughts were too much and the painful reality that children just like mine, were doing these very things…living in this mess.  My eyes filled with tears and they streamed down my face.  The thoughts of my children living in that place were painful, but those thoughts soon turned in great compassion to the children that actually live there.

At one point the pain in my heart was so great I could hardly stand it, and for some reason  I just looked up.  I suppose to take my eyes off of what I couldn’t stand to see. I noticed the sky looks just like it does in
Arkansas.  I was instantly reminded at that point that God was looking down, and he never changes, nor does he make any mistakes.  I admit, I questioned God anybody should or would live that way.  Only He knows why.

Some of us made the trek down to the center of that valley and there was a stream flowing there.  It wasn’t a pretty stream; the water was gray and full of trash.  Disease and death were flowing in this water.  Hundreds of people’s homes were on the dirty banks of this even dirtier stream. While I was there, many were cooking near by, children playing, animals growing and the sight of a banana tree growing by this stream made me sick to my stomach.  The very thought that this was a real place seemed impossible, and still does as I think back on those images forever etched on my mind. 

As we walked back up out of the belly of that horrible place,  I began to sing a Nicole C. Mullin song in my head; Redeemer.  I don’t know all the words in right order but some that hit me were: “Who made the stars shine in the heavens, who told the ocean you can only come this far?  I know my Redeemer lives.  I know my Redeemer lives, let all creation testify, that God’s love will never die.  I know my Redeemer lives.”  I know that isn’t even close to how the song goes, but I couldn’t shake the reality that God is God to those people.  Jesus lives for them.  Those thoughts kept going through my mind.  If someone knows all those words, post them.  I would like to read them. 

Betsy Raiford encouraged me with Romans 12 earlier in this journey.  When I got back into the van, I got out my bible and read that chapter.  Romans 12:9-18 were very relevant.  “Love must be sincere.  Hate what is evil, cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love.  Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor serving the Lord.  Be patient in hope, joyful in affliction and faithful in prayer.  Share with God’s people who are in need. Practice hospitatily.  Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.  Live in harmony with one another.  Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.  Do not repay anyone evil for evil.  Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone.  If it is possible, as far as it is dependent on you, live at peace with everyone.”     

I know that God calls each of us to take care of one another.  I left this slum grateful that the Lord has blessed me and anxious to let him use me to help others in a far greater way.

I am very thankful for this experience…changed to say the least. 

After we left the slum we headed for “Fountain of Life Children’s Home.”  As we arrived, I learned that only boys lived at this home.  The ages were from as young as 4 or 5 to as old as 15 to 16.  There were about 50 boys living here.  These boys were well adjusted.  They all had similar stories but one, a boy named Moses, really stands out.  Moses is 5 and had lived at the home from the age of 3.  Moses was supposed to be killed at birth, by the request of his grandmother because she felt he was cursed.  The midwife couldn’t kill him.  So, she took him and through a turn of events, he ended up at Fountain of life.  It is such a beautiful and familiar story.  Moses, like Old Testament Moses, found un likely life.  Moses is so cute, I am certain the Lord spared his life and has set him a part to accomplish some kingdom things.

The end to this day was very welcome.  Looking back over all the events of this day, my heart was heavy, but my faith in God was stronger than 12 hours before.