Work Done by Jordann and Ian

Jordann Talbot and Ian MacMunn are two volunteers who have just left the Joseph Waweru Home School after working with us for three months. Their contributions to the program have been invaluable, and we’ll miss them in the upcoming months, both for their friendship and for their hard work. Before they left, we talked with them about their experiences at the JWHS and what they’ve taken home from the experience.

In their time here, Ian and Jordann have been working hard. In keeping with the organization's goals this year, their biggest project was to help finish building a kitchen for the orphanage. "That was our biggest goal. We've been trying to help out....So, we've done a lot of painting the kitchen and painting the gates outside. We've done a lot of grunt work that helps out, but not a lot of results show from it - a lot of shoveling and moving dirt piles around and sweeping things out," says Jordann. The grounds have been much improved by their efforts.

Jordann and Ian have also spent a lot of time at the nursery school adjacent to the JWHS's compound. Jordann especially enjoys spending time there. She recalls, "When we first got here, Bev had some books...and she gave them to me to bring over to the nursery school. Ever since that first time I went I was like, 'well, I'm going to be coming back here.' And the more time I spend, the more results I see in the kids - and that's really cool, seeing their progress.... they’re so cute.”

When you put yourself into a project like this one, you are bound to learn things about yourself, too. Twice while visiting a nearby hospital to deliver medical supplies, Jordann had the opportunity to watch a birth in progress. “Definitely an amazing experience," says Jordann. She says that her attachment to children, together with these births has inspired her to look into midwifery school.

In these last three months, Ian has also discovered something about himself. He says, "the journey has definitely inspired me to hopefully find something like this back home to do for a job. I can't just volunteer for the rest of my life... but hopefully I can find a job back home that's related to it somehow. It's definitely opened up my eyes to a lot of differences in the world."

Donation of Medical Supplies and Bibiles

In mid-march, Ginger Wilson, a volunteer from Swansville, Maine, came to stay with us. With her, Ginger brought donations of medical supplies from the Church of the Holy Light and the First Baptist Church, both of Belfast, Maine. The donations included over-the-counter medicines such as aspirin and cough suppressants, as well as more expensive medical equipment such as catheters and vaporizers: all told, several thousand dollars of much needed medical supplies.

Some of the common household medicines will stay here at the JWHS to be used by Mama Mwangi, Pastor Waweru and the JWHS’s resident boys. What can’t be used here was donated either to Mama Kinyanjui, a nurse with a local practice, or to the Nakuru Provincial Hospital, where Mama Kinyanjui also works. Although the donations were given with no strings attached, Mama Kinyanjui has insisted on supplying the JWHS’s kids with free medical care in return.

Already, the donations have been useful! Mama Kinyanjui used a nebulizer the day after it was donated to save the life of someone having a bad asthma attack. The kids at the JWHS have also made use of some of the cough and cold medicine, as it’s the season where a lot of bugs are going around.

The Church of the Holy Light in Belfast, Maine also donated enough money to buy seven bibles distributed by Pastor Waweru. The bibles were in Swahili, and were donated to elderly members of local congregations who cannot read English and cannot afford bibles of their own.

Youth Group

Ginger is a trained minister, and she used her knowledge while she was in Kenya to facilitate a youth group after church. The group discussed teen relationships and how to handle them responsibly. Attendees were glad for the opportunity to discuss the subject. Traditionally in Kenyan culture, people don’t enter relationships until they’re ready to get married. The younger generation is becoming less shy about dating, however. Kids are eager for information on the choices they have, but their parents and teachers are often uncomfortable talking about them. This group provided a valuable opportunity for local youth to ask questions and gain knowledge about the risks and rewards of relationships.

Trip to Narok

Narok is a small rift valley town populated by the Massai tribe. The Massai have maintained a very traditional lifestyle, and still live in very close contact with the earth. Their simple lifestyle unfortunately doesn’t lend itself well to sanitation, often resulting in sickness. For example, children in this area often go blind because of a disease spread by flies. The disease is easily preventable if one washes one’s face to deter flies, but most Massai don’t use such sanitary procedures. Kipila, a Massai from Narok, realizes the importance of cleanliness and wants to spread his knowledge by distributing “comfort kits” to his friends and neighbors. These comfort kits will include simple items to promote sanitation such as washcloths, soap, toothbrushes and toothpaste. Kipila wants to teach residents of Narok to use these items to keep their children clean and healthy. Next year’s service journeys might include a trip to Narok to visit Kipila and help with the distribution and teaching.

Gardens

The rainy season has revived our tired soil, and our crops (as well as weeds!) are taking over fiercely. We’ve planted fields of corn, beans, peas, potatoes and cabbage. We also have raised beds filled with tomatoes, spinach, carrots, onions and herbs, and we’re experimenting with sunken beds—indents in the earth in which we’ve planted water-loving plants such as watermelon, onions and cabbage.

Although the rainy season has just begun, we’re already preparing for it to end. We’re doing some research on drip irrigation; a method by which water flows passively out of a raised container into a perforated hose that slowly lets the water drip onto raised beds. We hope to have a system in place by the time the rains end so that the JWHS can continue to grow food, although on a smaller scale, all year long.

Our New Kids

We have one new member of the Joseph Waweru Home School, and one honorary member. First, Brian, a two and a half year old, has become boy number nine at the JWHS. A group journeyed to the house of Brian’s great-grandmother, Sho-sho, to welcome Brian to the JWHS. Volunteer Saima Sidik was a part of this group, and her thoughts on the trip follow.

One morning at breakfast, Bev asked Mama Mwangi, “Whatever happened to Penny’s kid?” Penny, I had learned, was Mama Mwangi’s niece, who, two years ago, had given birth to a son, left him with her grandmother, Sho-sho, then disappeared, never offering any child support. Sho-sho was, according to Bev, nearing a hundred years old, and was also supporting her mentally challenged daughter and her four kids. Their only income was from vegetables they could grow and sell. It happened that the orphanage was in a financial position to adopt another kid, and Bev decided that, should Sho-sho agree, we would take Penny’s kid, Sho-sho’s great grandson, off of her hands.

Sho-sho’s house was the Africa I knew was out there. For months, I’d been living in a sturdy house with electricity, eating oatmeal and drinking sodas and generally being very comfortable. My hosts and their friends owned cars and cell phones and had plenty to eat, and that was all very nice, but I kept looking for the Africa that National Geographic had taught me to believe in. I was sure that somewhere women still carried baskets on their heads and didn’t shop at supermarkets, but this world was elusively hidden behind my relatively modernized existence.

We drove most of the way to Sho-sho’s house, until we got to a small set of shops in between two large cow pastures. There we left the car and crossed the street to a small dirt path running perpendicular to the road. The path brought us through a thin tree line, and then suddenly we were on a ledge with a valley the size of the Atlantic expanding in front of us. Small hills bubbled up across the landscape, and Bev pointed to the nearest hill. “See that little house on the top?” she said. “That’s where she lives.” We started off, making our way through the skinny, dusty paths, totally unfit for any automobile.

Eventually we reached the little homestead that Bev had pointed out. Two toddlers ran to greet us. One, a little boy, was wearing tattered sneakers that revealed his toes and a grime-colored shirt. “That must be him,” Bev said. “He’s about the age Penny’s son would be.”

Sho-sho’s daughter ushered us into the sitting room. The space was bare, except for a wooden table and some chairs that were lacking their cushions. The walls were insulated with cardboard and decorated with chalk drawings, presumably created by the older children. On the door of the threadbare room was a benevolent greeting: “Welcome all visitors in this house. Welcome again and again.” Looking around the room, I was surprised by how clean it was. The building housed five children, yet there were no toys or dishes strewn about, no messes shoved into the corners. Later it would dawn on me that the kids kept the house clean simply because they had no possessions with which to mess it up. The reams of legos and barbies known to North America kids, even the few balls and stuffed animals owned by middle class Kenyan kids, were Christmas presents that would never come to this household.

Our visit at the house was brief, as Sho-sho was uncomfortable with the attention that the presence of white people drew from the neighbors. We declined her customary offer of tea, not sure of the water’s cleanliness, and quickly discussed the logistics of Sho-sho bringing Brian, as we learned his name was, to the orphanage. Then we were off, hiking back up to the road, Sho-sho walking with us, wiping tears out of her eyes.

Brian came to live with us a few days later. I felt proud to be part of an organization that could bring this kid away from the ugliness of hunger and inadequate shelter. Yet still, I kept thinking of those chalk drawings on the walls and the doors, and the way Sho-sho had offered us tea, although she and her kids were hungry. Her family was beautifully generous and loving, if impoverished, and I was sorry Brian wouldn’t grow up running through the dirt paths with his cousins, catching chameleons and playing tag. But real life doesn’t have simple solutions, I reminded myself. I’d found the real Africa, and it was just as complicated as it should have been.

EO also sets aside a bit of money every year to be what the organization calls its serendipity fund. This money is available for Bev to use for short-term projects during the three months of every year that she spends in Kenya.

This year, Bev became acquainted with Job; a nine-year old infected with HIV, Tuberculosis, an additional lung infection and a fungal infection. Most of this year’s serendipity money has gone to stabilizing the health and the future of this quiet, scared kid. Because of the JWHS’s inability to provide sufficient medical care, Job cannot come to live with us in Mangu. However, Bev and some of her volunteers are looking for an alternative care plan.

When Bev met Job, he'd been living with his grandmother for the four years since his single mother had died of AIDS. He was well loved, but none of his family members had the money to pay for his medication. Job has a fungal infection on his head, for which the family bought antifungal cream for as long as they could, but they couldn't afford the full dosage, so the infection was half treated then left to lie dormant. Job's grandmother couldn't afford to provide proper nutrition, so Job easily developed Tuberculosis and his HIV had become increasingly serious.

Job's family was initially reluctant to admit that their child was so ill, but through some mutual friends, Bev was able to convince them to let her take Job to a Nairobi hospital for testing. Job had been to clinics before, but never a hospital. The bright white walls, lab coats and lights intimidated him even before he began a day of painful, expensive tests. Doctors scratched samples from his fungal infection, took blood to test for HIV and other infections, and did skin tests and x-rays to diagnose Tuberculosis. As they sat in the hospital waiting room, she told him of another Job; the one who suffered so much so long ago. The Job of the Bible was tested and tried and loved by God. And little Job has the same patience as the Job from so long ago.

The results of the tests showed that Job was quite sick, but that with an adult capable of making sure he was properly medicated and cared for, he could live to be twenty or more. Although Job's grandmother loves him and wishes desperately that she could have him in her house, she's decided that her age, financial position and declining health do not allow her to adequately care for him. Bev is looking for a way to ensure that Job gets proper care in a place where he and his grandmother can still be in contact. "We would like to hire someone to be his caretaker, which will free his family to love him and participate with his care as much as they're able," says Bev.

EO's serendipity fund is not large enough to permanently support this dream. The program desperately needs donors who will pledge specifically to support Job so that he can be helped, both monetarily and emotionally. Job knows he's very sick, but his understanding doesn't extend much farther than that. "All Job knows is that he's different from the other kids," Bev says.

This difference is certainly not one that Job willingly chose. "One thing that struck me the most was that these kids didn't ask for this," Bev says, describing her feelings while in the HIV clinic's waiting room. Lack of knowledge sealed Job's fate before he was born, and now all that can be done is to make what's left of his life as enjoyable as possible. "Job's wishes are very small," says Bev. He doesn't wish for the silly things that North American kids want, like to ride a pony or go to Disney World. Job doesn't even know they exist. A clean, safe place to live with a caretaker who is loving and capable, close to the family he knows and loves and maybe a toy or two, is as much as he'd ever ask for. The cost for this dream is about $150.00 per month. That might be more than one person can afford but in the spirit of "Harambee" (working together) a few small donations can give life to Job.

This is EO's second experience trying to raise money to support a terminally ill child. The first was a few years ago when Bev was approached by the mother of a child named Simon. Simon had rheumatic fever and needed an operation that would have cost $5,000. Bev says that the family was trying as hard as they could to raise the money. When the mother approached her, "She had the attitude of a mom who was pushing every door, opening everything. And she was getting tired." EO agreed to try to help, and sent fundraising letters back to the United States. EO's efforts were fruitless, however. They couldn't get "a red cent," Bev says. Simon died long before his time because the organization couldn't raise less money than a well off American family spends on a summer vacation. Now the organization is in a similar position. With treatment, Job could easily live ten or fifteen more years. By that time, there may be better treatments for HIV, and even if there aren't, he'll have had a fulfilling life. "But without medication," says Bev. "He will die." This truly is a matter of life and death.

Drama in Schools

We’ve continued to run an improv theater group at a local high school. The initial amazement the kids felt at seeing white people at their school has worn off, and a group of kids who are really interested in drama has formed. It’s been a lot of fun getting to know the kids a little bit, and we’re looking forwards to continuing our workshops with them. Seeing which North American games are understandable to these kids and which are a bit too specific to western culture has really revealed a lot about the differences between here and back home.

Trip to Kericho

As March began, we took a trip to the nearby town of Kericho, where EO facilitates a program that feeds street kids. We paid a visit to Kericho’s central park, a gathering place for homeless people. Here, behind the public restrooms, is where most street kids live. Continuously surrounded by the stink of dirty public toilets and mounds of trash overflowing from garbage cans, the kids survive on what little food them can find. Usually their diets consist of bread and maybe some fruit, but rarely do they find a meal with balanced nutritional value.

With Karanja and Ruth, two Kenyan volunteers, translating for us, we brought the kids to a small local restaurant for a meal of ugali, githeri and vegetables: all traditional African dishes. The kids filled up with huge servings, and then had sodas for desert.

After the meal, we brought the kids to a corner store and bought them all bars of soap. One can’t expect to be clean while living behind a public toilet, but at least with the soap they can take basic sanitary measures such as washing their hands before they eat. Several of the kids had lice, so we then went to get their heads shaved. Two of the kids needed medical attention, so after the barber shop, we headed down to the public hospital. One boy was treated for a deep cut on his hand, and another had a dental problem taken care of.


Sammy Waithaka is a Kericho resident who normally facilitates the feeding program. This month, he’d like to branch out a little to supply the kids with other necessities such as clothing. With Sammy’s new plan, he’ll buy food for the kids every other week, alternating with buying them clothes. Most of the kids only own the clothes that they wear every day, so they can’t take them off to wash them. With a couple more pairs, their cleanliness could increase dramatically.

Sammy would also like to give the street kids a way to feel that they’re useful to the community. He’s talked to the town council and asked them to assign the boys several streets to clean. “So at least, the boys can be busy…with time, they can feel responsible,” says Sammy. He hopes that the street cleaning project could even lead to employment for some of the boys.


Before we left Kericho, we visited relatives of some of the JWHS’s boys. First we went in search of Kamau’s grandmother. We eventually found her selling fruit at a stand down the road from her house. We chatted for a few minutes, and were able to learn some details of Kamau’s past. We also contacted Collins’ mother, and she agreed to visit the homeschool. A few weeks later, she came bringing Collins’ medical records.

The Boys' New House

The new dorm block is finished, and the boys are moving in! Traditionally in African culture, once kids become teenagers, they have a little place of their own to sleep that’s not connected with their parents’ house. Our boys are at this stage, so we’ve built them a little house of their own. Although it doesn’t have electricity and the walls haven’t been painted, the boys were eager to use it, so their bunk beds have been moved in, and they’ll start sleeping there soon.

And That's March!

That’s all the news from March! Thanks everybody for all your support. It’s really amazing to be here, seeing what a difference your donations and enthusiasm make in the lives of those around us.

Until next month!

-Saima, Jesse, Bev, Ginger, Luke, Jordann, Ian, Mama, Pastor and all the boys