A blog entry from one of the team members

This entry was copied and pasted from one of our team member's blogs. I made a few edits (there was a paragraph that was repeated). Otherwise, its here in its entirety.



Writing from Denny’s in Waco, where I have jetlag and can’t sleep. I will only be in Waco for another day, to attend the funeral of former Baylor President Herb Reynolds, and will then journey up to Little Rock, Arkansas, where I will spend a few months working for Governor Mike Huckabee on his Presidential race. If you are going to be around Arkansas this summer, please shoot me an e-mail, or give me a call, I’d love to meet up.

Africa was simply incredible. I went over with a team of 18, and we spent all our time ministering in Nairobi. We partnered with a local church called City Harvest ministries, and worked with children who had been abandoned because of their HIV status. We also spent time in Kibera, and Mtumba slums, where I grew fond of and made close friendships with some locals.
Watching the immense povery in Africa on television is nothing compared to being there. I went to Africa believing that American poverty was just as bad. While I acknowledge that we in America do have some socio-economic issues, what struck me hardest about Kenya, is the lack of social mobility. Born in the slums means you live in the slums, and your grandchildren. I did not hear one Clintonesque story of rags to influence. There were elections going on between the largest parties of ODM, and Nark. *Nark is currently in power, but many Kenyans expressed to me their displeasure Nark because of favoritism. Kenya is very tribal, meaning that while I think many in American would group every black in Kenya as a ”Kenyan”, they see themselves as part of their smaller tribe, such as the Masai. was simply incredible.
Kibera, where our main ministry focused, is the largest slum in Africa. Over 1 million people liviing in a space smaller than my College campus. Travelling the streets is like trying to maneuver through an intricate array of sewage, livestock, and trash. “Flying toilets” (or excretion in a bag) is everywhere on the ground, and people have no problem going to the bathroom in front of you. Try as you may, you gag because of the stentch. The houses are made from cow dung, and tin, which rusts quickly in the rainy season. I am going to share two stories of people who impacted my life there.
The church we were working with, City Harvest, was upfront about the HIV problem, but many churches there were not. They believe that Christians can not get the disease, and if you contract it, than you must have done something immoral to deserve it. Some other churches try laying on of hands to cleanse the disease, which does obviously not work. We went with members of the CH church to a ”support group” in the Mtumba slum. Mtumba means second hand. This slum was created in the landing zone of a small airport, and when planes crash , as they have, they crash into the slum and kill all who live there, to no one’s caring.
Before going to this support group I had never knowingly met anyone with HIV before, and now I was a minority in a room full of sick women coughing, and wheezing, all HIV positive. We split up, and followed one woman back to their respective houses. I will never forget the woman I was with. We walked through feces, and piles of garbage to get to her house, and when we entered I immediatley noticed a picture of a large Kenyan man on the wall.
I asked her who it was, and she said, “the father of the family”, but said nothing more. I told my testimony, and included recent events in my family dealing with the split of my father. After hearing my story, the woman began looking very glum. She then felt comfortable to tell us that she had not seen her husband for 2 weeks. That he infected her with HIV from sleeping around with other women, and after she got the disease he walked out. He would return every few weeks or months to see his children, whom he had left completley in his wives care. When I asked her if she could get a divorce, she said as a Christian she couldn’t. She then lifted up her shirt and showed myself, and my teammate that she recently had her right breast removed because of cancer. she had paid for the surgery through selling necklaces.
She then told us that later that week, god willing, she would have the money to remove the uterus where the cancer had spread. She told us how her husband was abusive, and if she told him he could not come in the house, he would do what her neighbor’s husband had done, and burn down the house, never to get in trouble with the law. What amazed me about this woman, is when I asked her if she could have one wish in the world, what would it be. This woman had fatal cancer, one breast, lived in a house with her kids no bigger than my bedroom, and did not enough money for food…..but her wish wasn’t to fix any of those.
She smiled at me and said she wished her husband would find Christ.
The second person who impacted me was a worship leader named Wycliff at the church. Wycliff lead worship wish such vigor and passion that I have not seen in an American church. He was so happy to praise the lord, …..Wycliff has only a second grade education, and lived in Mtumba with a friend. His father had left his family high and dry when he was in school, leaving his mother without any way to pay for his education(as of this year, the government now pays education through high school). Wycliff wakes up every morning and sells chapates. If he does not sell the number he must, he does not eat. He came late to a school in Kibera one morning and walked up to me crying. This is a grown man. I asked him what happened, and he told me he had not sold enough chapates by 9am, so he had to stay out until he sold him. He was not crying because he hadn’t sold them, he was crying because he had missed time helping our group at the school.
The entire nation simply loved life, regardless of their situation, and they worked hard to try and make their lives better, but to no avail. Many contracted HIV through the care of a positive family member, or were simply born with the disease, to NO cause of their own. I feel fairly certain that I will be back in Kenya at some point, and feel strongly called to help in anyway I can. Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”.