FKM: The Experience of the Loo

Every Friday, I am sharing a memory from my journey to Kenya nearly four years ago.  These memories transformed my heart and also display how the Lord is working in Kenya and through Christian Relief Fund.

This summer, I am trying to raise the money to go back to Kenya with CRF.  I feel a strong calling on my heart from the Lord.  I have faith that He will open the doors for me to return to this people; to love orphans and serve the needy and feed the hungry and reunite with old friends, including my sponsored daughter, Lavin.

If you would like to support me on this journey, CLICK HERE to donate through Christian Relief Fund to my mission trip fund.  Be sure to specify that your donation is for "Emily's Kenya Trip."

Friday Kenya Memory: July 3, 2009

We sat down on hard, wooden benches, astonished by the darkness of the classroom.  There was no electricity and only a few windows, so little light reached into the small room.  The children sang happily to us in both Swahili and English, with dramatic gestures and facial expressions.

Francis, the director of the CRF project in Eldoret, told us that throughout the entire day, whenever a car had driven by the front gate the children rushed out of the schoolroom in eager expectation, hoping that their American friends had come early.  They are such happy little children. 

Francis spoke eagerly about the beginning of his school and about the church of Christ that it becomes on Sunday mornings.  He proudly told us the story of when a witch doctor who hated the church cursed them by beheading some chickens and placing them rear-forward in front of the church building.  This curse made the local people too frightened to come to church.  Francis and his elders went inside the church and prayed long and hard to God for three days.  At the end of the third day, the witch doctor was found dead in his home. 

Francis showed us one little boy who could hardly walk and would not look anyone in the eye.  "He was badly beaten by his guardian," he explained softly, "and he is now maimed and brain damaged.  He escaped to a neighbor, who brought him here.  He does not have a sponsor, but we are letting him stay until his mind heals."

His body needs to heal too, I thought sadly.

Believe me when I say that the little boy had a sponsor by the end of the day.  

At the end of the ceremony, I had to use the restroom.  It was raining gently, and when I arrived at the dilapidated hut that said "Ladies," I knew I was about to experience something truly foreign to my lifestyle back at home.  There were large holes in the rusty tin roof, and rain spattered through the ceiling onto my head.  There were three stalls.  Feces covered the floor.  I am not sure why the children would just as soon take a dump on the floor than in the hole.  there were two footprints to stand on, and the stench was nearly overwhelming.  The stall door was hanging by one hinge, but at least that stall had a door.

I left the restroom feeling a great sadness wash over me.  Audie saw my expression.  "The children use this every day," he said quietly.  I simply nodded my head and looked around me at the laughing children, who had left the schoolhouse and were now playing on the porch and in the rain.  They were so carefree, so happy, despite being orphans in terrible conditions.  They praise God for their nothing, because it is still better than what some people in their community have.