This was finished close to forty hours ago in Nairobi. We are now home.

Everyone is packing and getting their things together. We’ve just finished three full days with the kids from the Ghetto Light program in Kibera. Their stories are very heartbreaking, but their spirits are good.

Monday, we worked with a group of older kids. Our day was similar to that of the previous week with the younger children: we played, we kicked things, we sang, we danced, we read the Bible, and we prayed. They were so very appreciative of us coming to them. As Americans, we often think that money will solve all the world’s problems.

Though important and quite beneficial at times, the children of Kibera yearn for human contact and touch. They also yearn to be something on their own terms. As a church, ten percent of our tithe goes to Ghetto Light every six weeks. This money goes in to programs that help the children stand on their own, supporting them with the dignity that hard work often provides.

A representative also visited us from the International Justice Mission. IJM works within the laws of the given land that they are in to provide legal help to those who have been mistreated. The Kenya office specifically deals with cases of sexual abuse and police corruption. Though the situation is quite tenuous in Kibera, we were able to put the representative in touch with Ghetto Light. In a place where street justice reigns, it is our hope that the link provides something of a voice to those who have been quite silent.

Tuesday we took a group of the younger children to an animal orphanage. Though only a few miles away from the sprawling slum, most (if not all) of the children had never visited. It was a good day spent building and solidifying many of the relationships.
Today, our final day was spent with a mixture of the children from both the first and second day. The group that came was part of a drama program. They danced and performed some amazing pieces on parental neglect, HIV/ AIDS, abuse, and general ghetto trauma. It was quite affecting and a great cap to a fantastic (and somewhat heartbreaking) trip.

In the end (and as we look to the future) there are many issues that need to be resolved in Kenya. From the outside, it is easy to write off the people of Kibera as a lost cause. At the root however, it should be noted that their plight is the same as ours: we all live lives that seek for self-help rather than a savior, that examine the Christian rather than the Christ, and the Christ in us… rather than the Christ for us.

Monday morning. We had a busy weekend. Friday we ate at Carnivore, a restaurant where they slice meat from swords. We had crocodile; it tasted like fish.
Saturday we worked in Kibera, helping some with a feeding program. There are five different centers throughout the slum that provide a porridge breakfast and a lunch for the children. It was good seeing them again. We sang some songs and hung out.
Sunday we went to a large Pentecostal church. Several members from our group were called up to sing a song. They did a good job.
Today we start our second camp. The kids we will be working with are a little older. They are all affiliated with Ghetto Light. We have three full days left. We’ll probably learn more from them than they will from us.

We finished our camp yesterday with the children from Kibera. It was tough seeing them leave. Many of them were crying. For a week, they had the expectation of leaving the slum for several hours to run, sing, and dance. Yesterday, many had to face the harsh reality that their time was up. It was very hard for us all. We prayed with each individually for protection. It is impossible to comprehend the lives many of them lead and the horrors they experience at such young ages.

We were able to visit Kibera yesterday afternoon. It was rough. We spent time with Ghetto Light (an organization Ecclesia helped financially start four years ago). They have been proving the youth of Kenya with microloans. These loans have been used to help start small businesses (bead making, shoe shining, etc.). Though small in scale, the progress that this organization has made in the past several years is immense and quite inspiring.

After meeting with Ghetto Light we walked through the slum. Visiting homes, observing the conditions, and smelling the smells of poverty (quite literally), we were able to gain a minute glimpse in to the lives of the children we had just left (though- to our joyful surprise- a handful tracked us down and followed us throughout). Though the poverty was immense and quite overwhelming, the dark underbelly (the rapes of the young, the violence, murder, rampant disease, and deep rooted substance abuse) remained mostly hidden.

Today we will go back and work with a feeding program. Thank you for your prayers.

Our camp has consisted of some seventy-five children (and a handful of widows) from the Kibera slum. They arrive each morning in green buses coughing smoke and covered in advertisements for stew. We hear them as they dash frantic down the driveway and across a lawn. They pass huts with tin roofs where widows prep rice with meat and bone in large tin pots.

When they reach us they plead for balls and begin to run. They call us “teacha” and grab our arms, rub our hair, and climb our backs.

I haven’t visited Kibera yet; we will tomorrow, but I’m told that they don’t get to run much where they live. I’m told they live in homes separated by paths just wide enough for a man to walk through. Supposedly when we visit we need to watch for plastic bags of fecal matter and urine that act as disposable toilets.

Much of our time is spent laughing and singing. The children can shake and move; they can pop a hip and electric slide their way through hymns with ease. They move with their shoes on; they move with their shoes off.

Tomorrow will be our last day with them. We may see some when we visit their slum, but we won’t see many. We’ve done what we can to fill their unattended sores with peroxide and Neosporin. We’ve tried our best to connect and to understand their muffled requests… a dead parent; a missing father; those orphaned twice…

I had one girl cling to my arm for most of the day. She asked me to pray for someone at home who wasn’t letting her eat. I gave her extra biscuits with her tea; she gave them to a friend. Her father is dead. Her mother is gone during most of the day. She isn’t sure where she goes. She told me her mother was very sick and then she cried.

We’ve also had a chance to study the Lord’s Prayer. We’ve talked with them about “Our (collective) Father” and we’ve talked with them about the assurance that we have in Him. We all know this is good. We all know that Jesus has told us to pray for deliverance from evil, but it’s hard to reconcile with some of them.

We petitioned that God might “Nourish orphans who are forsaken of all help.”

“Have mercy on all, You who are the Creator of all. To You be the praise and glory for all eternity.”

Their lives are hard, but they are not.

Tuesday Evening

Seeing as internet is finally up and running (for now), I thought I'd give a quick update. We have been working with a group of kids from the Kibera slum the past two days. Speaking collectively, the presence of these amazing children has been incredibly humbling and quite amazing. We are spending our days running, playing, dancing, singing, and learning. Though it is often very hard to comprehend the lives that these children live, it is our hope that the time we are able to spend with them will reflect in some very small way the gratitude that we have for Christ's penultimate sacrifice on the cross a couple thousand years. These children, more than we can fathom, are living lives that are Christ centered and cross focused. It is part of their survival.

Arrival!

We are here. We are safe. We are still waiting on some luggage. The flight was pretty good, nothing much out of the ordinary. Thank you for your prayers; it is now time to hit the ground running. Or standing as we're doing right now.