Tabitha Ondeche loves Frank Wanyama

Frank – you now have a Kenyan name too! Going forward, Tabitha Ondeche is married to Frank Wanyama. Velma & Kennedy had to see your photo before they could name you… just fyi, Wanyama is Luhya for meat. Velma regularly calls me Ondeche and I am answering to it quite naturally. Figuring out how/why husbands & wives don’t share a common name, however, is beyond my communication abilities with Velma. Frank Wanyama…. I love it. I love you.

Today was Kenyan Independence Day (the country has existed as an independent nation only since 1963… less than 50 years…that helps me put some of its challenges in perspective). The plan was for me to work only half a day – but I could have easily stayed all day, there was so much to do & see. We began with a home visit to an orphan-led home. A 17 year old girl, Cristobel, is living alone, caring for her 15 year old brother and 3 year old twin siblings. They had been living as total orphans for 2 years… I tried to imagine one of my own daughters, at 15, taking on responsibilities for 3 younger siblings (including 2 babies), running a household, generating some kind of income and trying to stay in school. Their “home” was dark, perhaps 10x10 with a curtain down the middle. One side was for sleeping; the other side was their eating, cooking, living side…. Our knees almost touched as we sat across from one another. Cristobel was beautiful and articulate. She is still in school (high school) and is also in a HOPE vocational training program for beauty/hair care. If she completes the program, HOPE will provide “start-up funding” for a business of her own. I asked her about her future plans… she mentioned owning a business of her own, so she could continue to support the twins… then said she hoped she could give encouragement and hope to other children who were in her situation – that other orphans could see from her life that you could live life as an orphan and find a future. I imagined her on a podium as an advocate, a spokesman for other children in her situation – she was really quite remarkable. I also asked what her greatest challenge was…. her reply: finding food each day. The primary funding source for HOPE’s OVC program does not include nutrition in its services. It just makes me wonder if the important people who write the grants and determine public policy really understand what daily life is like for those they are attempting to serve.

From Cristobel’s home, we went to Velma’s tin-sided “cafe” kiosk for tea & chapatti’s. She is one of the Care Team members who has really become a leader among the community volunteers – and while we are from very different worlds, we have quickly become friends. I asked if I could take pictures inside her “café” and she was thrilled. She quickly “staged” several obviously new pots (labels still on them) on a shelf in front of the cooking area, arranged the mugs, put on an apron and held a tea pot and cup in her hands as if she was preparing to serve a customer… the final photo would make a great marketing shot! Dirt floors, old benches, worn sofas, cooking on the ground over kerosene burners or charcoal fires, bunches of cabbages, kale, carrots and corn on the ground… if you haven’t been to Africa, I don’t think I have enough words to help you imagine what this is like. It is a place we would not have even considered entering on our previous trips – but it was my friend Velma’s pride and joy & I felt honored to be served her chai!

Then we went to one of HOPE’s children’s support groups. HOPE sponsors Kids Clubs all over Dandora (in churches, in schools) to attract all kinds of children – fun activities mixed with teaching health care and life skills. It is in these Kids Clubs that they work to identify vulnerable children, who need additional help and PSS (psycho-social support… Kenyans love acronyms). In order to minimize stigma, the children who are identified as vulnerable are then invited to smaller support groups, where they meet with other children facing challenges similar to their own. All the children in today’s support group (about 20) were either complete orphans or were caregivers for a terminally ill parent. Statistics are one thing – but seeing the faces of the statistics is so sobering… and humbling. We met deep in the slum (I think I got my first sunburn – on my neck – as we walked to the site...a tin-sided building adjacent to one of the adult counselor’s homes). We greeted each child as we walked in, shaking all 20+ hands…. Jambo… Habari…. Hello… and then they greeted us with two songs and a dance. Very soon there were dozens of other children at the doorway and window! The students then did some special songs – 4 little girls sang a song about losing their father, then losing their mother and wanting to follow their mother wherever she was… with hand motions indicating tears. There is no saying “it will be fine” to these children… none were older than 16, most were probably between 6-12… we were looking at children who all, in the near future, would be complete orphans. The support group however provided a safe place, two neighborhood women (volunteer counselors) who were trusted friends, a setting that reaffirmed their worth, worked to build self-esteem, encourage school attendance and acted as a resource in the face of abuse or exploitation.

As an example of the unity and sense of mutual commitment the children have toward one another… one child in the group was a total orphan and at a particularly bad time, was without food or adequate clothing. The group (the children themselves… not the counselors) decided to collect money for their friend… contributions of 1-5 bob (just a few pennies each…) came in and were given to the boy with nothing (really nothing). Generosity within the framework of abject poverty is humbling.

I got to speak to the children briefly and among other things, told them I had come all the way from America to see such brave and strong children as themselves… Each of the other HOPE members that had walked with us (Makena, Charles, Kennedy and Velma) also talked briefly, and then we left to meet a 12 noon cab… I could have stayed so much longer with the group & was so sad to cut our time short (especially since the taxi didn’t arrive until 1:30). Let me not leave you with any mistaken impressions of the children – while they shared very difficult stories, they were still children … laughing, giggling, and poking each other, restless with too much adult talking…

After a quick change of clothes, I spent a wonderful afternoon & evening with Steve, Carol, Chelsea and Stephie…and I was very thankful that she sent me home with rice, beans & custard! I felt like a beggar, but I haven’t had time to go grocery shopping, am nearly out of food & discovered this morning that my bread is moldy (of course, I could eat in the restaurant downstairs).

I was going to write about fear tonight, but I think these blogs are really too long – thanks to all who have the patience or interest to read them!

Oh…And I haven’t even told you about the 2,000 baby chicks yet! They arrive next week.