Letters from Kenya: Index • < Previous • Next >
Grace and peace to you all.
It is hard to believe but I am close to the halfway point on my trip to Kenya. I continue to have amazing experiences. Last week I began the week with a cold and then got a stomach bug but by Saturday I was better. It was nothing that antibiotics and rest could not cure; even so, the week is somewhat of a blur. I have preached every Sunday in different parishes. Every service is about 3 hours. (I promise that I will not try to introduce Kenyan worship services when I return.) I have always been treated like an honored guest and even though the service is in Kiswahili, I can figure out what is going on. They usually do not celebrate the Eucharist on Sunday. They have it only once every one or two months. One of the issues with Communion is that they have to use official Altar Wine and it is very expensive. It costs 600 Kenyan Shillings for a bottle, which come to about $8.60. The problem is that the Sunday collection is often in the range of 1000 to 2000 Ks, so wine becomes a big budget item. Money is so tight here that church expenses are very difficult. They are also used to Morning Prayer on Sundays.
Last Friday, the four American guests staying at St. Philip’s were invited to have dinner at the home of Eric, one of the staff at the college. His job is to help tend the sheep and do other farm chores. He gets paid about 2000 Ks a month, about $29.00. Davis, who is from San Diego and staying here for a year working with the orphan program, has befriended Eric. The other two guests are Andrew and Bobby; they are students at UC Berkley and are visiting for a month. They are helping at the hospital.
Eric’s home is a short walk from the school. We went down a dirt/mud road to a dirt trail past a bunch of huts and small corn or maize fields and came to his home. It is actually his sister’s husband’s home. You could tell it was a more prosperous home because there were three cows and a calf grazing in the yard and the furniture inside has foam cushions rather than just wood. There is no electricity or running water and no glass in the windows. The food was prepared in the cooking shack which is separate from the living quarters. They cook over a wood fire. The food was served in insulated Tupperware-like containers. We had ugali, ground-up maize boiled until it looks like a mound of mashed potatoes. No Kenyan meal is complete without ugali. We also had rice, specially prepared for us, chicken in a tasty broth, and cooked greens. Kenyans usually eat with their fingers, using the ugali to sop up the broth, but they were kind and provided us with spoons. (I am getting used to eating with my fingers, however.) After the meal we had Chai, (Kenyan tea very lightly steeped with milk and sugar) and fresh bananas and oranges. This was a very fancy meal as they were honored that visitors from so far away would come and eat in their house. The one strange thing was that none of the family except Eric ate with us. That is not the Kenyan custom.
I did get to talk with Eric’s brother-in-law. His English was halting but good. He grew up with missionaries in Nairobi. He moved back to Maseno and inherited his father’s farm. He grows maize, beans, sweet potatoes as well as having banana and orange trees. They also have a vegetable garden. He sells very little of his crops for cash but relies on them for food for his extended family Eric is now in his mid 20’s. Because he is an orphan and one of the younger sons, he has no land to inherit. Because of this, he is resigned never to marry because he does not have any way to support his own family.
About 10 days ago, on June 2nd, I visited Bishop Joseph Wasonga in the Diocese of Maseno West in Siaya. I first met Joseph and his wife Jenipha when they came to Episcopal Divinity School when I was there in the 1980’s. Even though he is only about 20 miles away, he lives in an area that is primarily Lua rather than the Luhya. This means that the local language is very different; customs are different as well. (The common languages are Kiswhahil and English for the more educated.) There is a kind of competitiveness between the two; imagine Massachusetts and Texas next door to each other and speaking different languages. I did get to meet a number of the clergy and learn about some of the programs they are supporting to meet the needs of orphans and children with disabilities.
Last week I visited the Amani Orphanage, which was founded two years ago by The Rev. Kenneth Wachianga in the Diocese of Maseno West. It is only about five miles from where I am staying off the Luanda-Siaya Road. Ken the driver at St. Philips took me. We found the correct turnoff and proceeded down and up a narrow, very rocky dirt road. After asking directions a couple of times we turned onto what might be called a cart path between two maize fields. One more turn and we were at a new building on top of a hill with a beautiful view of the valley. This is the orphanage. Winnie the director warmly welcomed us. Only the five children too young for school were there. They have 30 resident children ranging in age from 3 to 20. They have an equal number of orphans who live with extended family in the area. They come on Saturdays for meals and support programs, both educational and medical. They have a beautiful building, by Kenyan standards. It is brick covered with a kind of cement/stucco. It has glass windows and a corrugated metal roof. They have a small office and storage room in front, three large rooms for the children’s bunk beds and a smaller room for Winnie who is also the house mother/administrator/social worker. The facilities also include another small building for food storage, the cooking shack and a huge, about 100 gallon water tank that collects water off of the roofs. Winnie, and later Rev. Kenneth, talked about the plight of these children. Most of the orphans I have met in the parishes have extended family to care for them but these are the children who have nobody. Rev. Kenneth has a gift for finding the truly neediest children and taking them in. He built the orphanage because he was running out of room in his home. It is built on his family land and some of the older boys live in his home/hut. Kenneth has a parish about 30 miles away and gets to the Amani Center once or twice a week.
One of the problems with the Amani Orphanage is that it is not finished. They ran out of money to complete the buildings so two of the rooms are not being used. They also have very little furniture other than the bunk beds. They need chairs and dressers for the children’s clothes. They are now being stored in cardboard boxes. I guess it is fortunately nobody has very much. I am going to give them 10,000 Ks (about $140) to help them buy some chairs and dressers. One chair will cost about 300Ks.
This brings me to the recurring theme of the last two weeks, being seen by Kenyans as a potential funding source. One of the realities of being an American is that we are astoundingly wealthy as compared to Kenyans. They have great needs and we have money. I realize that one of my purposes in being in Maseno is to observe how the money the Diocese of Massachusetts has given for the Mothers Union Orphan Program is being spent. I am also happy personally to fund some projects like the chairs for the Amani Center or to build the house for the widow whose house only has three standing walls. Finally, I am here to gather information to share with others in the U.S., individuals and congregations, so to link up donors with those in needs. (I do hope that All Saints’ will be willing to partner with a congregation or program here, but I am making no commitments because such a venture has to be the congregation’s decision and not mine.) All of this gives me a great deal of power. An important part of my spiritual journey here has been reflecting on the nature and real limitations of that power.
The long and short of it is that I have met many people who I would love to help. When I return I home to be able to tell their stories and possibly facilitate creating some partnerships. So far, I have visited two congregations who have recently begun Saturday feeding programs for the orphans in their neighborhoods. I know there are at least three others. They have begun them because they have seen the needs and the example of the existing programs in neighboring parishes. As of right now there is no outside funding available so they are doing this on their own. It cost about $40.00 a week to feed about 350 children. Hopefully we can find congregations in the U.S. to fund them so they can join the other nine funded parish feeding programs. The Amani Orphanage needs funding, as well as some special need individuals within the program. One girl I met was 11 year old Jemima; she has spina bifida and was rescued by Rev. Kenneth from a horrible situation. She is now in a boarding primary school, but needs diapers and a personal care attendant. She very bright and doing well but is also confined to a wheel chair since both of her legs have been amputated. I hope to learn more about her specific needs the next time I see Rev. Kenneth. Besides all of these cases, there are the students and staff at St. Philips who need funds for themselves or for their families. Most of the students are married with children who are living on next to nothing. Their families are at home caring for small subsistence farms while their father or mother trains for ordained ministry. Their courage and drive is inspiring.
I have also met those to whom I do not want to give anything. It is not that their need is any less, or that their dedication to serve any less sincere. It is usually their way of relating to me that turns me off. It is a gut thing that I can not afford not to pay attention to. There is the worry of being conned or of the funds not being used in the way they were intended, or of blatant corruption, the latter being endemic in all levels of Kenyan society. The fact is I have the power to say no and walk away as well as to say yes. This kind of power can be graced-filled, but it can be used by the spiritual forces of wickedness to corrupt and destroy. Furthermore, being generous is just as risky to one’s soul as being cheap. The generous soul can be puffed up with pride, while the tightfisted can be guilty of callousness and unable to express love. I thank God that I am a part of a community of faith, both here and in the U.S., who will help me-- as I pray that I can help you-- navigate these tricky waters.
With all of God’s grace and peace, I am faithfully yours,
Tom
Letters from Kenya: Index • < Previous • Next >