This
week I worked with a program called “Orphans and Vulnerable Children” (OVC).
This is the program that I originally said I wanted to work with while here,
but I’ve changed my schedule since then to have a broader understanding of the
programs here. For example, instead of working with OVC again next week, I’ll
be working with Shuuja and traveling with them to the western part of Kenya. At
least this way I can try to get a feel for what I might enjoy/connect with the
most.
OVC is the smallest program at
HOPE, but they’re working on trying to expand it. They currently have one
director, George, and one employed staff, Makena. Everyone else contributing to
OVC is volunteers, which consist mostly of people who actually live in Mukuru.
Some live in the actual slums, and others live right near it. The program has
found that residents of the slum are willing to be more cooperative and
comfortable when they have “neighbors” working with them. They also have
“caregivers”, who are people from the slum community that work with OVC staff
to help the overall effectiveness and efficiency of each program carried out in
the community.
For example, on Thursday Makena and
I sat with a group of women (caregivers) and discussed the bathrooms (which are basically home-made port-o-potties) that are being installed throughout
the community. OVC is going to pay for 20-30 percent of the costs to install,
and the community has to work together to pay the remaining percentage. This method
gives the community the chance to take pride in what they have, and work
together to become more responsible and appreciative of their surroundings.
The overall goal of OVC is to
improve the well-being and protection of orphans and vulnerable children in
Kenya by building the capacity of families and communities to cope and respond
to the needs within their households and communities. The also work to increase
comprehensive and integrated care and support for OVC, increase the capacity of
affected families to care for and support OVC, and increase the capacity of key
community stakeholders like schools, faith-based organizations, and civic and
youth groups to identify and support OVC. Qualifications for the children to be
accepted in the program are that they must have at least one deceased parent,
an HIV+ parent, a chronically ill parent, or no parents.
Monday Makena and I stayed in the HOPE
office, and Tuesday was our first day out in the field. Their method of keeping
records of the children is very far behind, and every now and then they have to
go through the hundreds of hard-copies and do random house checks to make sure
each child is still in Mukuru, that they are doing well, and that their parents
are still with them. If a child cannot be found, the parents are sought after.
If the parents can’t be found, the child is assumed to have moved and is dropped
from the program in order to allow new kids in.
Tuesday was literally spent going
through every single record, and trying to get them organized. It took them
over three days to finish it all. Toward the end of the day, a volunteer from
Mukuru named Purity showed me all of the different programs HOPE has just in
their fenced-off area. They have a VTC building (HIV Testing and Counseling), a
hair-dressing studio, sowing and knitting studio, and two computer rooms for
the kids to learn all of the functions of computers and even play video games.
However, all of the video games are created to encourage learning and positive
decision-making.
There was one part of the day
though, that really got to me emotionally. As I mentioned, bathrooms are being
installed in certain locations where the homes are. George, Jacinta, Makena,
and I traveled to those areas to check out how big they were and how realistic
it would be to install stalls there. For whatever reason, up until that point,
I hadn’t realized that I hadn’t seen the actual homes of the people there. I
spent time with the children the first day in the HOPE area, and we always
drive past the market stands they set up….but I never saw the actual homes
until Tuesday. On the way there, so many kids got excited about a “Musungu”
being in their community and they would run up to me, smile, stick out the hand
to shake mine, and run away giggling. It feels weird when that happens, but I
also love it because it helps me in meeting more of the children.
I didn’t take any pictures of the
homes, and I don’t plan to because there is no picture or video or words that
can justify the actual experience of being right there. And me taking pictures
of their conditions seems intrusive and insensitive. I have never seen the conditions
that they live in, and I honestly didn’t know how to respond, and still don’t.
There is a small stream running through the area that should have been used for
fresh drinking water, but over the years it’s been turned into a sewer and
bathroom for the residents. Those who don’t use the stream, generally use a
small trash bag, and throw it in a self-made dump they have off to the side of
their houses. It’s literally mounds and mounds of trash in that area. There is
trash everywhere, and the smell is hard to take at times. Children walk
everywhere in dirty clothes, no shoes, and if they’re not playing, they’re
sitting on the dirty ground watching their parents or people passing by. The
houses are made of cardboard, metal, and wood scraps. Some places do have
electricity and lighting, but that’s only in the newer section of the homes.
We went to two locations that are
planned to have bathrooms installed, and at the second one, there was two girls
who looked my age and a small girl around 1 or 2 sitting outside on the ground.
The group I was with was discussing the bathroom plans in Swahili, so I stood
off to the side so I wouldn’t be in the way. The little girl was holding on to
one of the girl’s legs and staring at me, with a completely confused and curious
look on her face. She literally had one of the most beautiful faces I’ve ever
seen. I squatted down to her level so I wouldn’t look so intimidating, and she
slowly sat up and walked to me. She stood a few feet back and stared, so I
smiled and held out my hand to her. She slowly walked forward, looking timid,
and eventually placed her hand in mine. I asked her what her name was, even
though I sadly knew it was no use since she was too young to have started
learning English. One of the girls said her name was Dianna. Still holding her
hand, I asked her if that was her name. As soon as she heard her name her face
lit up with a radiant smile, and she nodded and pointed to herself. And before
I knew it I had started crying. I still have no idea why exactly, but for
whatever reason, this small girl, in a green, ripped sweater, and a faded,
dirty pink dress, was the breaking point for everything I was seeing around me
in Mukuru. She pulled her hand from mine, and went to grab a green comb from
one of the girl’s hair and brought it to me, looking so proud. I told her how
much I liked it, and smiled a lot to let her know I thought it was just as
special as she did. She grabbed my hand again, and kept smiling. Not long after,
the group I was with was ready to go, and so I had to say goodbye to Dianna. I
quietly cried the whole walk back, still having no idea how to process
everything I’d just seen.
Wednesday was a shorter day, and I
spent a lot of time in the HOPE office at Mukuru organizing the computer data
on the children. A lot of it was out of order and I spent about four hours in
Excel trying to get everything organized for the home-checks we’d be doing on
Thursday. We had to leave early that day because Makena had a test in the city
and it takes a really long time to travel there.
That night we also had Midweek at
the YMCA building. Last week we started doing a really interesting study on
what the Bible says about the difference between a person’s soul, spirit,
heart, mind, body, how they are different levels, and what influences outside
the body affects/alters each level. I think one of the most incredible points
was that we all were given five senses to fully engage with the world around
us. Our influences from different experiences in life make us who we are. And
it’s almost as if without those five senses, we wouldn’t be able to change,
grow, learn, and find the steps necessary in becoming who we are or who we can
be.
Thursday was a very exhausting day.
We did home visits on these days, along with more hard-copy filing before heading
out to the homes. We visited three different homes, which is only 1/7th
of all the homes that still need to be checked. Each home check serves the
purpose of examining each child and their conditions, and basically seeing
whether OVC is making a positive difference in their home-life. The first home
consisted of a young boy, his younger sister, a father who’d recently lost his
wife, and the grandmother. They were very sweet and very hospitable, even
offering to make us tea and stay longer. They seemed to be in good spirits,
considering.
The second home was the sad one for
all of us. The mother was sitting on a stool when we walked in, just gazing out
the window while her neighbor’s child slept on the bed behind her. She has two
young boys, and just recently lost her husband. She’s been refusing HIV
testing, but it’s written all over her body, face, and eyes that she’s
infected. She won’t take the HIV medicine and had to be classified as ‘in
denial’, and in dire need of receiving counseling. Otherwise she will die
within the next year, leaving her two young boys without any parents.
Her youngest boy came in from
school halfway through our talk with her, and stared wildly at me for a minute
or so. George, who speaks English wonderfully, smiled and asked him if he could
tell us about himself and school day in English. The little boy smiled shyly in
response and sat down beside his mother on a small, plastic chair. He proceeded
to tell us his name, age, what grade he was in, what he wanted to be when he
grew up, and read a small piece of paper for us, which unfortunately stated
that in order for him to continue with his schooling, his family needs to pay
1,040 Kenyan schillings, or thirteen dollars. For them, that’s a lot more money
than they actually have. Many kids have to stop schooling once they get to his
age because they don’t have the money to move on high school. Primary school
here is free though.
The third home was actually very
nice on the inside. She even had electricity, a small TV, DVD player, and nice
decorations on the wall. Her littlest
girl was also fast asleep on the floor face down, and half under the bed the
mother was sitting on. They talked in Swahili for a long time, and then she
turned to me, with everything in perfect English, saything that she lost her
husband last year and she now has to sell fish outside of their house to
support her three children. I was caught completely off-guard and had no idea
how to respond. All I could say was that I was sorry, and felt my face turning
red. It’s one thing for them to translate the Swahili conversation to English
for me, but when it actually comes from the person who’s living through it,
your heart literally breaks for them.
That day I had also learned that my
cubicle buddy at the HOPE office, Gibson, actually comes from the slums, which
completely shocked me. While we were waiting to do the home-visits, he asked if
I wanted to go for a small walk around the HOPE area. He then proceeded to
share his story with me of how his dad left his family when he and his siblings
were young, forcing his mother to move them to the Mukuru slums. He is the
oldest of his siblings, making him ‘head of the household’. He earned very good
marks in primary school, but when it came time for his to move to high school,
his family didn’t have the money. He said he decided to contact his father, who
has a lot of money apparently, and ask him to support his schooling. However,
his father refused and Gibson was left having no idea how to move forward
academically. By the way, he was only around twelve years old at this time.
Eventually he was told that he
would be sponsored to move on to high school (which is not common at all), and
he continued his education, still earning high marks. He started a club at his
high school, which allowed them to travel to the US and do an exchange with a
few schools, which eventually led to a family that he’d met in the States
sponsoring his education for college (also doesn’t happen often). He earned his
degree and got a job offer from HOPEww Kenya, where he’s been now working for
the last five years. I also learned that he only moved out of Mukuru two years
ago, and that he has supported his two younger sisters in getting out of Mukuru
and continuing their educations and starting businesses. He said half of his
friends he grew up with died when they were younger due to just basically
losing hope that they could have something better. But he actually made it out.
And he’s one of the few who have.
Thursday night I actually got really sick from
all of this Kenyan food, and decided to go to the office on Friday instead of
taking the 2.5 hour complicated ride out to Mukuru. I was able to help Makena
prepare for a presentation she has for OVC, and relax from everything I’d
experienced this week. I also got to talk to my parents on Skype, which always
makes me feel better. Friday night Malinda (American) and her husband from
Ethiopia hosted a Bible talk night, and we all made dinner together. While the
adults talked after, I watched Spongebog Squarepants with the kids! I seriously
haven’t watched an American kid show since I left the States and it felt soo
nice. We also watched Kung Fu Panda J.
Little pieces of home are the best, no matter how ridiculous it seems.
Today is Saturday and Fridah and I
are relaxing this morning in her apartment and then going into the city to
grocery shop and get her hair done. We promised each other we would relax
today, since the latest we’ve gotten up since I’ve been here is 7 am. We slept
in until 8:15 am today. It was glorious. Tomorrow we have church at the big
church with all the Nairobi members, consisting of over 1,600 people. And then
after service there’s going to be another
wedding! I’m so serious, literally everyone is getting married, engaged, or
pregnant right now. It’s crazy.
Well, this is going to be the end
of Week 2 in Kenya. I look forward to writing about new experiences next week
with the Shuuja program. Until then, I wish you all a great week and many
thanks for taking the time to keep up with my adventures! It really helps me in
not having to repeat my life 20+ times.
Alles Liebe, Jessica
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