Beginning Relationships…

Before we headed to Huruma – Nairobi, Kenya’s second largest slum – we paid a visit to Steven Marori, Director of Kenya’s branch International Christian Ministries (based in Bakersfield). Awaiting our arrival were two of the four men we would get to know very well – Dan and Kerry – two of the founding members of Furaha Community Center. The agenda for our meeting was primarily to establish a relationship between the Furaha leaders and this ministry, which provides a variety of educational opportunities for Christian leaders. By the end of the meeting, we learned of an upcoming leadership seminar that my friend and GHC colleague, John Jackson, would be leading, and another seminar coming in November. We knew two things immediately: there was no way these young leaders could afford to go to either seminar, and that we wanted to get them there!

We made our way to Huruma. You know when you’re getting closer. The roads change to dirt from pavement. The structures shift from mostly sound-looking facilities to make-shift buildings constructed from wood, tin, and cement. Trash is everywhere – not because people don’t care, but because these streets are not serviced adequately. Open and flowing sewage ditches which, combined with the trash problem, create an unmistakable aroma. The streets were lined with stand after stand each marketing a one line of goods: socks, shirts, pants – each at a different store. Vegetables, chicken, grilled corn, goat head soup, goat leg soup, a butcher shop. You could find four of each of these stands on a block. You might even find some of the goods being sold of a blanket in the middle of an intersection.

Furaha Community Center is located right in the thick of Huruma. A sign painted on a sheet metal gate announces it’s location. As our mini-bus (think of a Toyota version of a VW Eurovan with 10 seats plus a driver) pulled up, we got out and were immediately welcomed by a large group of Furaha volunteers – some security, some social workers, some leaders. We walked down an alleyway to their offices and community room, where we were introduced to each other. These new friends are the ones responsible for making Furaha click day to day, providing education for 400 children on a dime, most of whom are orphans, a clinic for HIV+ women, and a limited-collection library that is used by many families in the slum.

After a short wait, we were escorted to the school area – a 20x60 commons surrounded by lean-to classrooms made with 2x4’s, plywood, and tin roofs. The commons was filled with the students awaiting our arrival. Mostly dressed in their uniforms (not required but clearly preferred by the students), the behavior we witnessed was remarkable. Certainly, there was excitement in the air – these kids knew guests from afar were arriving; guests that look quite different than your average Kenyan. But in spite of the hype, the children were incredibly well behaved (I’m thinking of my own kids’ elementary school lunch room and assemblies as reference). They were excited but calm, really welcoming but also respectful. We shook their hands, saying hello as they welcomed us to their school.

We were seated in front of them, while the school’s head teacher led a brief ceremony to welcome us to their school and city. They sang songs – and I mean they sang songs – that communicated their love of God and their joy to provide us hospitality. After the brief program, we toured each classroom where the students were ready to teach us a song and share their areas of discipline with us.

We also saw what we couldn’t see – hunger. There was no announcement letting everyone know that there would be no lunch that day. They never have lunch. That’s the problem. For them to do simply satisfactorily in school, they need calories – especially the second half of the day. Many of the kids just don’t get through the day (if they come back at all) because their bodies are simply giving out. A primary agenda of ours was to see if a feeding program would make a lasting difference for these kids. The truth is, food would make a massive difference for their future, because it would mean education. Everyone knows the phrase, give a man a fish and they’ll eat for a day, teach a man to fish and they’ll eat for the rest of their life. In this case, giving them a fish (beans, actually) is teaching them as well.

After lunch with the leaders (which we of course paid for), we discussed the agenda for the rest of the week before piling in the bus and heading to our hotel in Nairobi. We were all wiped out by early evening – the 10 hour time difference was catching up. My first impression: the center was living up to its name, which is Swahili means “Joy.”