Napa to Nairobi: How Do We Know We’re Helping?

A reality exists in our world: there are a limited few who have resources and a massive majority who do not. The ones who “have” are generally in some way responsible for why the poor are poor in the first place.

Some people feel so bad about the fact that they have resources when others do not that they go into poorer parts of the world with lots of resources to give away.

Some people are motivated by compassion instead of guilt, and they do the same thing.

Still others have a need to feel needed, and go into all the world to save it, in the hopes of feeling important in someone else’s eyes.

Whatever the motivation, often what happens is that a flood of resources makes it to a particular area, along with directions on how to use it. What the do-gooder doesn’t realize is that there are great assumptions about what is needed “over there”; all based on what they know from their life lived “over here.” Unwittingly, they impose their own cultural biases upon their recipients. They are happy to give what they think is needed, with little input from those who actually know the context where the help is needed. Since the end result is that much needed resources get to a much needed area, both parties move ahead.

But what happens down the line?

Sometimes a dependency is created, and those in need are given a fish instead of learning to fish, and are therefore facing a future of trouble, especially if their donor’s funds dries up or the donor dies.

Sometimes Imperialism is resurrected. New, Western colonization pops up in the strangest places – slums feature flavors from a culture thousands of miles away. It’s a bad fit, like telling a cat that it needs to act like a dog – it’s just not going to work for very long.

Sometimes the long term result is worse than it was in the first place because the motives and the mission were inherently flawed.

Our approach to making a difference in the slums of Nairobi, Kenya, is not at all like the above. Our approach is modeled after the design laid out by one Nairobi’s largest church’s pastor, who applauds the desire to help coming from the West yet laments the travesties noted above. He recommends that indigenous people call the shots, and that genuine relationship between the two be maintained.

Chris, David, Kerry, and Dan were raised saw that in their home-town slum of Huruma. They noticed that the orphans were falling through the system cracks. They were falling behind in school from lack of parental support. They rose to the occasion. They began tutoring children at a community resource center called Furaha, which in Swahili is translated as “Joy.” This tutoring would give the orphans a much needed boost, since living conditions make it difficult for them to receive much help from their guardians, who often are trying to raise as many as eight children in a very small space on about $1 per day.

With unemployment hovering around 70%, the likelihood of continued economic hardship is certain. And if education is neglected for the orphans, their future prospects are severely limited. While they would love to be self-sustainable, the reality is that without outside assistance, that dream could take several generations to materialize.

That’s where we come in. We have resources we can share.

What we don’t have is a clue – how could we possibly know what needs to be done half a world away? We don’t know. We must rely on those who live and breathe the context to direct whatever assistance is provided.

We have gotten to know the leaders of Furaha and found them to be exceptional in their character and commitment to giving the orphans a chance for a better life. Their goal is to be sustainable as soon as possible, and then help other similar programs begin in other parts of the massive slum. The more centers that exist, the more children can be helped.

Based on our relationship with them, we ask them what they are experiencing, and what they sense they need to provide long-term help. Naturally, since our resources are limited, they must prioritize their projects based on urgency and long term impact. We provide what they don’t have and cannot get – resources.

With our ongoing support, they are able to begin multiple small businesses based on a micro-loan program whereby funds are loaned to individuals who want to begin a business, who then pay it back so that another person may do the same: a peanut butter production business, a bead-stringing jewelry business to begin with (each require a little under $200 to get going). Leadership training for the Furaha leaders is made possible because of our generosity. And lunch is provided for 400 students every school day – this means they will have the caloric means to maintain attention and actually learn.

In return, we are the greater beneficiaries. We may be tempted to think that we are the only ones helping them. But the reality is they teach us a great deal – lessons we need to learn.
That’s how relationships work.

It is possible (but not necessarily likely) that over time Furaha could get these things going without outside help. But how many hundreds or even thousands of kids would lose out during that period? And how much would we lose out for not knowing them during that time?
Here’s the deal… We are family. We are the family members who were born where resources flow abundantly. Our brothers and sisters in Kenya were born into a resource drought. We don’t know how to do life in Kenya. They do. We wouldn’t know what to do to help them live abundantly in spite of their challenging circumstances. But they know how. What they don’t have are resources to realize their life potential.

We’re not their saviors, we’re their family. So let’s do what we can for the ones we can.