Day Two in Kenya. . . . .Monday, April 20, 2009

We didn’t start at a happy place today. We went to the Mathare’ slum, and witnessed the most deprived circumstances that I have only imagined until now. St. Phillips School is built in the interior of the slum to help “complement” the surrounding public schools in which there is not enough room and poor teaching. Words stretch to describe the scene: walking through the slum streets to get to the school, the “ditch” path that leads into a row of hovels which serve as classrooms on each side. The “classrooms” are packed with only about 12-16 children in each. They leak when the rains come each day during this season. Conditions are horrible. The children are served a porridge breakfast and beans & corn lunch. . . the only food they ever get. It was Monday morning, so they were hungry from the weekend.

The whole experience in Mathare’ was searing; like an old-fashioned cattle branding, it blazed its image on hearts. “Sub-human,” one person called the conditions. “Appalling,” said another. Most confusing was that such a crushing environment could not completely squelch the human yearning to grow. In one hovel disguised as a classroom, the children were learning to measure the volume of a cylinder. In another, binomial equations covered what passed for a blackboard. In still another, songs of joy rang out. In fact, our group was welcomed by a primary class singing “Joy to the World.” The dissonance between the song and the circumstance unnerved us all.

After some time to pray and process, it is still difficult to comprehend how Mathare’ exists. It’s even more difficult to understand our relationship to it, individually and as a church. During our group devotional after visiting Mathare’, Jerry Jernigan led us in this prayer:

Holy One:

We are all lost sheep needing you,
Our Good Shepherd to rescue us.
These beautiful children look to us and think:
We are so different from them.
And we look at these Mathare’ children and think:
We are so different from them.
But their teachers know it is not so.
And our teachers know it is not so.
Where we live, what we possess, the food we eat, the education we have –
all are not so different.

But the heart that needs filling,
The shoulder that needs hugging,
The mind that need assurance,
The spirit that needs your presence –
All are in each one of us and all are the same.

So you are my son, my daughter.
But what can I do for you?
At least I can pray for you.
Will you, children, pray for me?

After such an intense morning, we broke for lunch and launched into an afternoon offering the promise of retail therapy. We journeyed past the Karen Blixen home to Kazuri beads, a manufacturer of beaded jewelry. Raymond Goes, the proprietor, donates beads to groups like Covenant, Amani Children’s Foundation, and others to do generate funds with the condition that all proceeds return to Kenya to help orphans or the disabled.

Upon arrival, we toured the factory. Not your typical western-styled factory, we strolled through an open-air series of rooms talking with women who were molding, customizing, painting, and stringing beads into necklace, bracelets and earrings. During the ‘factory’ tour, we learned that Kazuri Beads began in the ‘70’s by a missionary’s wife desiring to empower Kenyan women who enjoy few legal rights. Now, Kazuri Beads employs 320 women who manufacture approximately 30,000 beads a day with a world-wide distribution network. All employees of Kazuri Beads enjoy health care benefits and the large majority of women are employed for life. In fact, the mission statement for Kazuri Beads is not oriented toward profit but toward “meaningful and sustainable employment for women.” They are clearly accomplishing their mission and members of our group (who will remain nameless) did their best in the retail shop to ensure their ongoing success.

Kim Barnhardt and Friends