It's The Relationships, Stupid!

It’s All About Relationships

Our final day at Furaha was all about relationships. It started with a tremendous program where each class performed a song, recited a poem, or danced. The Four brought in a group of young men who self taught themselves folk drumming and dancing, which they performed.
The program was nice. The lunch which we provided was also nice (these kids were hungry!). But the most fun aspect was just talking with our new friends.

Tabson, a pastor to the children, had lots to talk about along the lines of church, faith, and everyday life.

We laughed with the Four, ribbing each other in ways that can happen only between friends.
I talked with Dan about some real-life stuff that was hard, and we discovered that our respective paths had commonality.

Sure, it’s good to know that we left enough cash behind to start two new businesses – a peanut butter operation and a bead jewelry shop. We were delighted to leave enough money to make sure all of the Furaha leaders could attend the training event led by my friend. Of course, it’s awesome to realize that the funds we will provide for a food program will make a huge difference for the orphans in Huruma.

But it’s the relationship that matters.

In every home we visited, we were profusely thanked for coming. They were sincerely glad we came to see them where they lived. I asked one of the Four about this. They simply stated that our presence gave them hope because somebody was there, to meet them, to know them and their story. It somehow connected them to a world beyond the slums. It somehow communicated to them that they were of value.

No tourists swing through Huruma during their safari adventures. Nobody notices the extreme poor. So when we showed up, it meant more than a large check. Our presence was a gift in itself. A priceless gift that we in the radically-individualized, epidemically lonely West struggle to understand. We simply cannot underestimate the power of presence.

The truth of the matter, however, is that I took home much more than I left behind. These guys taught me something about sacrifice. The women living on less than $8/week taught me something about materialism. The HIV+ women taught me something about perseverance and courage. The children taught me something about joy. The reason this is true is because we are not the saviors, but that we are united by the same creator who calls us all children so that we can call each other brothers and sisters.

To be with them is to reunite with family. To support them is simply helping kin in their time of need. To abandon them is to walk away from the opportunity to be whole.