Stories untold

I am in Amsterdam for the next 7 hours, waiting for a plane to take me home. I am alone for the first time in over a month, and it feels empty. I miss my Kenyan family. I miss Kakuko. And, surprisingly, I miss the interdependency that has resulted in strong ties and friendships. As I got on the plane in Nairobi, I was somehow saddened by the other tourists. They came to Nairobi, went on safaris, ate American food in expensive hotels, bought factory-made “traditional” souvenirs, and left without actually seeing Africa. I wonder how they avoided the poverty, the heartbreak, the oppression of minority tribal groups. I wonder how they missed the passion of new leaders and their incredible dreams for the future of their people through sacrifice, perseverance, and unwavering faith in God. But most of all, I think of the individual stories of both hope and sadness, and realize how much they have changed me. These people deserve to have their stories told. They deserve a voice. As my last post, this is what I aim to do. The following people are who I spent my time with in my home away from home.

Nelly 

Nelly’s father died when she was in secondary school. As a result, she was not able to afford to attend university. A couple of years ago, she became a mother, and her daughter’s father left them both. She then began to work as a housekeeper in the home of a man who promised to pay for her to attend computer training school. This promise was not kept, and Nelly ended up leaving this job as a result. Michael heard about her story and has been offering to give her work at his home, helping with housework and giving female visitors (including myself) companionship. Nelly still maintains her dream to obtain computer skills, and I have been able to teach her the very basics. We also sat together, exchanging favorite Bible verses and how they’ve helped us in our lives. Even though the work at Michael’s home has helped a little, it is not nearly enough to provide consistent support for a single mother. Nelly needs to find a full-time job, which is very difficult without education.

Lois 

Lois and her husband are very close friends with the Kimpur family, and have several children. Lois and Angelina went to primary school together, but Lois was not able to complete primary school (I’m not sure why, but probably for financial reasons). Her family moved from Alale to Kapenguria about 10 years ago, and have been struggling to make ends meet ever since. They both make charcoal by going into the forest, cutting down trees, covering the wood with sand, and burning the wood. It is extremely hard work, and has taken its toll on them both. In order to actually sell the charcoal, they have to carry it 2 hours into Kapenguria on foot (they live outside the town), and even then, people may or may not want to buy from them. Lois is extremely talented in making traditional Pokot jewelry, and I commissioned several pieces of jewelry from her to give to people back home. I also found out some information about an organization that provides microloans to Kenyan women, and have been encouraging her to start her own small jewelry business. However, this is a very difficult process, and usually only large groups of women receive microloans. This family needs to find a way to consistently provide for their family; they will likely move back to Alale soon if they cannot find sustainable income.

Kasule

Kasule is a very energetic person, and Michael’s children love him! He also struggles constantly to provide for his wife and two children, and makes his living constructing outdoor toilets. This work is inconsistent, and when he does work, he only makes about $6/day. One of his children is completely deaf, but Kasule cannot afford to pay the school fees for her to go to a special school for those with hearing disabilities. Other schools do not offer sign language assistance, etc.

Kakuko/Grace

This girl is very special to me, and it was extremely difficult to leave her in Nairobi. She told me that she would go with me if there were Pokot people where I live J For her story, see my previous post.

Amos

When Amos was young, he was unable to walk at all. I think this was as a result of polio, which is still very common in the village areas. Being from Alale, a very poor village, his parents could not assist him. They ended up “dumping” him at a World Vision feeding camp in Kiwawa (this was not done for his own good, this was done because his parents did not want to take care of him). This place was where he met Michael. World Vision was able to send Amos to Nairobi to get numerous operations, involving inserting metal plates/rods in his legs, and he was able to learn how to walk! Now, Amos is the only nurse in Alale and started the only clinic there. He also recently started a secondary school for girls in Alale, based on the fact that these girls previous had to travel very far to other schools and it was common that they were assaulted on the way to and from school. He commonly talks about his faith and how it is the only reason he does what he does.

Peter

Peter is kind of like Michael’s “assistant”, which can involve anything from taking pictures to bringing children from remote villages to Daylight. Before coming to work with Michael, he was a cattle rustler. In fact, he was pretty much the ringleader of the Pokot cattle rustlers and fought many times with the Turkana tribe. Michael approached him, told him to stop, and that the only way to provide change in the tribe was through the children and education. Peter did not agree right away, but after a negative cattle rustling experience in which he walked away with a scar on his forehead, he decided it was time to change his ways. He is now one of the most gentle and loving people I have ever met, and is vital to Michael’s mission and the vision of Daylight.

Christine (pronounced “Kristen”)

I think I mentioned Christine in an early post; her father died when she was young, and her mother died last year at the Kapenguria hospital. Their family was neighbors and good friends with Michael and Angelina when they used to live in Alale. When Christine’s mother became sick, she was brought 6 hours from Alale to the Kimpur home, and they rushed her to the local hospital. On her deathbed, she told Michael and Angelina to take care of Christine, and make sure she was able to finish secondary school. Her school fees are expensive (about $400 each term), and it is a struggle finding sponsors for her.

Rachel

I became very close to Rachel, who is Michael’s youngest sister. She is in her last year of high school in Uganda, and around 20 years old. She is a very positive spirit, and Kakuko loves her! Soon, she will take some very important exams, which will determine if she can go to university (and which university she can attend). Her dream is to study nursing so she can move back to Alale to help provide MUCH needed health care in the area. Hopefully she will score high so she can study in America!

Michael/Angelina

Both Michael and Angelina are from Alale (most of Angelina’s family lives in Uganda however), and have incredible stories. You can find details about Michael’s childhood on the Daylight website- http://www.daylightcenterpokot.org/ When Daylight first started, they were trying to help children living in poverty, even though their own family had the same problems at the time. Still, they persisted and were able to slowly build a network of support through Nathan Roberts, the U.S. Daylight co-founder. Even now, they continue to give everything they have to others in need, including each of the people I wrote about above, and especially to Daylight students. There is still a long way to go in terms of making Daylight sustainable, however, which at the moment involves being able to finish buying land for the new school. If you feel like you want to help in any way (not necessarily financially) with Daylight’s vision, I would love to hear from you J

The story of Kakuko

I met Kakuko next to a hut made of sticks and mud. The hut was hand-built by Michael’s mother 2 years ago as she moved around, trying to find better land for herself and the goats. This homestead, consisting of two tiny huts and 11 people, is where most of Michael’s family currently lives and is part of his home village, Alale. I just figured that Kakuko was some neighbor girl, curious about the arrival of a vehicle (rare in those parts) and a white person. She was with two other girls, both of who were carrying babies fastened to their backs with long beautiful scarves. After resting for a couple of hours, Michael decided that we should climb a nearby mountain. So off we went. Michael, Peter, myself, and the three girls in tow. They knew the land much better than us and could navigate around the numerous thorn bushes with ease. We spent most of the afternoon on top of the mountain, and even were joined by several other children and two puppies J After we returned, a neighbor boy who is a goat herder came to me with a big open gash in his leg. I cleaned and bandaged it while the children watched. This act, which I have done so many times in my time here and especially in the 5 days I spent in the bush, started a chain of events I never thought possible.

At the top of the mountain

Kakuko with her sister (left)

Cleaning and bandaging the leg of the boy who herds Michael's family's goats

The following day, Kakuko came to the homestead looking for me. She had the same scarf tied around her head from the previous day, but this time she took off her scarf and showed me what looked like the worst ear infection I had ever seen. It was full of green pus and even her skin around her ear was becoming infected. I told her that I didn’t have the right medicine, but to wait until later that day (Michael was sleeping and couldn’t drive us then) and we would go together to find someone who could help. I also found out that she was an orphan; in that area, this means that there is literally no one else who can either afford or is willing to help her. She is no one’s child so she doesn’t matter.

Within an hour, she was nowhere to be found, and I started to panic. No one was sure where she was living, or how to find her. That night, Michael and I met with his friend Amos, who is the only nurse in Alale, and he told us to bring her into his clinic the next day. So the next morning, as we were heading out (still no sign of Kakuko), we didn’t know exactly what we should do. I was uncomfortable just getting medicine for her because it didn’t look like a normal ear infection. As we were driving to the clinic, we saw two girls standing on the side of road next to an anthill. One of them was her. She had been waiting for us to drive by for a long time. We found space in the car and continued on our way. Seven people in five seats, Kakuko gripping my arm to stop herself from falling and grinning at me the whole time.

Amos, who started the only clinic in Alale. A very good man.

Waiting at the clinic

At the clinic, we found out that she has some kind of growth inside her ear. It is uncertain if the infection caused the growth, or the growth caused the infection. What is certain is that it is completely covering her eardrum, severely affecting her hearing and causing pain deep inside her ear. Eventually she will have to have an operation to remove the growth. We got some medications, and Kakuko got a tetanus shot. The nurse told me that someone had to clean her ear and put new cotton in it every 3 hours, so we decided she would stay with me (and by “stay”, I mean sleep in the truck in the driver’s seat while I slept in the passenger’s seat J). The next day, we were planning on leaving to come back to Kapenguria and it was then we decided that Kakuko would come with us. If she stayed, no one would be able to help her with medication and she would continue to suffer in silence. The infection had started last October, but she had no way of accessing health care until she saw me with a simple first aid kit, bandaging a leg wound. She had been resigned to the pain for the past seven months and was losing her hearing as a result.

We located the family who was letting her stay with them, and they told us to take her as they couldn’t help anyways. We told them about Daylight, and that she could stay and go to school, and they agreed. They told us about what had happened to her family. Her father was killed by a neighboring tribe, Karamoja, in a cattle raid sometime in the late 90’s. At the time, her mother had been pregnant with Kakuko. After her father’s death, her mother remarried a man who also died a short time later. And then, early last year, her mother died suddenly of what seems to have been malaria. She is what is known as a “double orphan” in the Pokot tribe, and is exactly the kind of child that Daylight seeks to help. It was then that I knew the reason I came here. She is the reason. She is the why. I decided to help sponsor Kakuko. I called my sister Amy, told her Kakuko’s story, and immediately she agreed to be a co-sponsor. We also gave her an English name (most people in Kenya have an English name in addition to multiple other names). In Pokot, names are chosen based on the way or place of the child’s birth. Michael was born next to a river named Kimpur, so his name is Michael Kimpur. The name Kakuko means that she was born with the help of her mother’s mother. The only reason for this situation in the tribe is if the father is already gone. The name is devoid of hope and symbolizes the endless pain she has experienced her entire life. Amy, Michael, Rachel, and I chose the name Grace because it was truly an act of grace that we found each other.

The older woman who was taking care of Kakuko

Finding out about what happened to Kakuko's family. This man was the person who gave permission to us to take Kakuko to Kapenguria.

On the road to Kapenguria

In the last few days, we have been here in Kapenguria, helping Kakuko to adjust to life outside the bush. It has been a pretty funny experience. From going to the bathroom, washing her hands, even entering other peoples’ homes without an invitation to come in, Kakuko has a lot to learn about living here! There are so many differences between living in Alale and living in Kapenguria, and she has been so fascinated and curious at everything she sees. She truly is a fish out of water at the moment. She does not have any belongings; even the clothes she was wearing have to be returned to Alale since they were borrowed from a neighbor. So yesterday, we went shopping and she was able to own clothes for the first time in at least a long time. We also took Kakuko to meet some Daylight students and teachers. She seemed pretty shy at first, especially since she doesn’t speak Swahili, only Pokot, but she is a fast learner and has already shown that she can adjust quickly.

In her new clothes. She was so excited about them!

We have also been to see a couple of doctors here, and have had to travel to three different cities to find the rare antibiotic she needs. Her ear has not shown much improvement, and I have continued to clean it every 3 hours and give her medication. Today we will go to a specialist in Kapenguria to see if there’s anything more that can be done at this time.

My favorite picture, taken on the way to her new home.

UPDATE: This morning, as I woke Kakuko up to clean her ear, I noticed that I couldn’t see the growth at all! It must have burst during the night, which means she won’t need an operation. We will still see the doctor today to fully clean everything and get more medication for the infection, but as of now, Kakuko says she can fully hear and there is no more pain. If she would have stayed in Alale, she never would have healed and would lose her hearing completely.

When it rains, it pours

Heavy winds and torrential downpours. Rainy season has officially begun. I’ve been spending most of my time here helping find construction materials and helping with some of the building of the new school. Today, while looking for good timber to build an outhouse for the kids, it started raining more heavily than I have ever thought possible. That’s saying something, because I used to live in Japan, Thailand, and South Korea, all of which have intense rainy seasons. Needless to say, Angelina, her daughter Kite, the architect who is helping with designing, and I had to stop everything and take cover. We found a nearby empty room, and three neighbor children joined us, giggling at my white skin and touching my hair. We ended up staying there for almost an hour, the rain becoming hail and pounding so loudly on the metal roof that Angelina had to cover her ears. But the rain is good. People depend on it so they can grow the little corn they have planted next to their homes.

Angelina and the architect, waiting it out

My new friends taking shelter from the rain

Today, I also had a few experiences with the crime that comes from poverty and lack of job opportunities. While we were running around, finding shovels and other tools, a boy of around 12 tried to steal my purse. He was from Madare, the poor part of Makutano that I wrote about in a previous post, and was very upset when I caught him. About 10 minutes later, I saw this boy and another boy from Madare in a fight over some corn. One boy had the other boy pinned on the ground and the architect I was with had to physically separate them. And then about 5 minutes after that, I saw two adult men fighting. One of the men had tried to pickpocket the other man and had been caught. At the time, Mercy, a teacher at Daylight, was sitting next to me. She told me that there are more and more thieves because no one can find jobs. Even educated people are having such a hard time finding work that they are turning to stealing. People have to hire others to look after their houses when they are not at home; otherwise they will be robbed. Even at Michael’s home, his brother is the “watchman”, waking up at around 1 am and walking around the yard until morning to make sure no one tries to break in. Before he was there, many things were stolen from the Kimpur family. Although crime happens everywhere, this makes me incredibly grateful to have the type of government that can at least provide food for those who don’t have any. We live in a country that tries to protect its children, assures all people a free education, and provides financial assistance for those in need. Yes, the system is not perfect. And yes, it is exploited by some. But the truth is, without it, people would constantly live in survival mode, not knowing when the next time is that they will eat and not having access to even the most basic of education. If that boy who tried to rob me didn’t have to worry about finding food, he would have a much different childhood.

Peter (left), Michael (center), and Michael's brother Lomaler (right) at the new school land

Putting up posts for the fence. The man on the right is the man who sold Daylight the land.

Tightening the barbed wire with my fan club watching. The boy in the white shirt on the left kept touching my hand to see if my skin was real :)

They were amazed I knew how to use a hammer!

Rolling out wire

My fans, with Peter (right)

Measuring for the toilet/outhouse

Digging holes for the school foundation. That pole was heavy!

Digging the hole for the outhouse

On a side note, tonight I walked out of my room to have dinner with Michael’s family and there were literally 18 cows eating grass in front of my door. Michael’s friend was trying to get his cows home, but it got dark and it is illegal to drive cows at night (police think the people are cattle rustlers and shoot them), so they are staying here until morning. Never a dull day! J

A day in the life...

Some people have been asking me what a normal day is like here. The Kimpur family house is like a well-oiled machine. Everyone knows their role, and everyone helps out. Since almost everything must be done manually, it is nice that there are always so many helpful hands. Recently, there have been about 15 people staying here. Some are family members, some are passersby, and some, like me, are honorary members of the family. Currently, all of Michael’s children are at home on school break. The oldest daughter goes to school in Uganda, so it has been a festive occasion having her home! Michael’s youngest sister, Rachel, also goes to school in Uganda and is staying here while she is on break. She will accompany me to Allale (Michael’s home village) later this week to translate and spend time with me. So, in total, this is who is currently “living” here. Keep in mind that everyone is staying in a small two-bedroom house, besides myself and Kristen, who are staying in a small room rented from the neighbors. Michael, his wife Angelina, his 4 daughters and 2 sons, Kristen (the girl they took in when her mother died), Kristen’s younger brother who is visiting, Michael’s sister Rachel, Nelly (a young woman who is helping with me and the house), Peter, and Lomaler (Michael’s younger brother). Oh, and me. Yep, that makes 15.

Drinking chai is how everyone here starts their day. Breakfast usually consists of 3-4 cups of chai at about 7 am. Sometimes, we also eat a “butter sandwich”, which is exactly what it sounds like, but usually it is just chai. At around 1-2 pm, we drink chai again for lunch. Sometimes we eat beans and rice, or on special days, chapati and potatoes. But usually again, chai is our lunch. Don’t be fooled by the lack of food early on in the day, however. Kenyans eat HUGE portions for dinner! At around 7-8 pm, everyone huddles around the small coffee table in the house, ready to eat ugali and sukomuwiki. By the way I’m sure that spelling is wrong. Basically, ugali is this compacted bread formed into a cake. It is made out of corn flour and water. Sukomuwiki is mostly shredded cabbage, with some tomatoes and green onions, that is cooked. You tear off a piece of ugali and eat it with a handful of sukomuwiki. It was definitely an acquired taste for me! It was also extremely difficult to get to the point where I could finish an entire plate, since the portions are twice the size as dinners in the States.

Dishes are done by hand, and so is the laundry. There are no machines here. Only hard work. Both of these tasks are done by using three buckets of water. For dishes, the first contains soap, and the second two are for rinsing. For laundry, the first is for soap, the second for this special detergent they use, and the third for rinsing. Because I am not used to scrubbing my clothes so hard, I have managed to develop scrapes all over my fingers from the friction it takes to actually get things clean. The toilet is basically a hole in the middle of concrete. The shower? Just concrete J There are no showers or bathtubs; bathing is done with, yes you guessed it, a bucket of water. Sometimes Angelina will heat up water for me to bathe with, which is SO much better than when it’s freezing.

I have gotten used to African living, with its conservation of water and manual duties. And what’s more, I truly feel like I am part of the family. I have learned how to make chapati, find good prices for vegetables at the open air market, and where to hang my clothes so that they dry faster. I have learned that I must always have a flashlight on me after dark because you never know when the power will go out for hours. I have even been given a Pokot name, Chepkomoy (spelling?), which basically means “the one who came when there was no rain”. My time here is already half over, and it saddens me to think of transitioning back to American living. True, we have so many technological advances that make things “easier”. But we miss out on the friendships that begin from singing while doing dishes bent over plastic buckets. And stories that are told in the 3 hour process of making chapatti together. These people have become dear to my heart. This is Kenya.

Michael's house

A neighbor boy hanging out in the doorway of my room

My room, complete with mosquito net

The view looking out from Michael's house. The toilets and shower are in the small building on the left.

The family "farm", where they grown corn. Almost everyone has at least a small field for crops.

Nelly doing laundry

Making chapati

With Angelina and Rachel, Michael's youngest sister

Rachel making chapati. The grey plastic bin behind her is where they store their clean water.

Doing dishes with Nelly

Children of hope

It has been a full week of exploring the area of Makutano, the part of Kapenguria that Michael and his family live in. Last Thursday, Angelina and Peter (Michael’s right hand man) took me everywhere: the open air markets, the local Muslim mosque, countless churches, and many different little street stores. They also took me to the poorest part of Makutano. It was here that I witnessed the harsh effects of poverty, and I will never forget what I saw. Houses with caved in roofs, no doors, and crumbling walls. Each were very small one-room shacks, and each housing numerous people. Almost every adult was drunk, and Peter protected me from those who approached me. But the thing that really got to me was the children. There were so many children. Many had clothing that was so threadbare it barely stayed on their bodies, and some were not clothed. And each had a huge smile at the sight of me, a “mzungu” (white foreigner). A small crowd of children followed me, saying “How are you?” over and over, since it is the only English they know. Most of the children have never attended school, and it broke my heart to think about what their future holds.

Luckily, the story does not end there. The next day I was able to go to Daylight for the first time. It was there that I met four children from the area I had visited the day before. Michael had gone to that area and talked to parents about the school. Even though those four children cannot even afford a school uniform (about $7), Daylight took them in and now they are students. Daylight is in the process of buying land and building a bigger school building where more children from that poor area (and other far away villages) can come to receive education, food, and love. Currently there are almost 100 children on the waiting list due to lack of space at the current school.   

Even though it is school vacation now (classes start again on May 3), there were about 50 students of the total 150 students at Daylight on Friday. I was able to meet and talk with the Daylight teachers and headmaster, all of whom have obvious passion for their students’ futures. I was also able to bring two soccer balls, jump ropes, some classroom materials, including phonics flashcards and handwriting worksheets, books, some art supplies, and 3 laptop computers! The computers will be used at the school that is being built, as the current one has no power. A big thank you to Emily Smuder and Amy McGuire for donating two of the laptops, and to Abby Cullen for providing teachers with much needed resources! They were very excited to have materials to teach from. There is much more to say about the hope that is found in the children at Daylight, but I think pictures may speak louder than my thoughts.

 Their old soccer ball and two new ones. Can you guess which is the old one? :) 

 Playing soccer in front of the school

Jumping rope while Dan watches (Dan is the person who found the land for the new school)

Handing out candy. Everyone loves lollipops here, even the teachers wanted them.

Lollipops unite!

Government food aid for the most malnourished of the children

Daylight's headmaster

A Daylight classroom. Since resources are scarce, teachers make their own educational drawings on the backs of old bags of rice and corn

Children get porridge at school

Seeing a computer for the first time and looking at Daylight's website. The children LOVED seeing pictures of themselves!

Teachers looking at new English class materials

Excited to read :)

The current main school building, which consists of three classrooms

This boy always makes me smile. Michael's youngest child, Joshua