Lance's Deaf Orphanage

My brain hurts.  Seriously, I feel like I just finished eight hours of piano lessons where I had to play with both hands at the same time.  That's what it feels like when I have to communicate using Kenyan Sign Language (KSL).  I can do it for a little while, but after going at it all day long I just overheat or something.

Today we took a break from the project site at Marera because we had other business to attend to.  There is a little deaf school and orphanage several miles down the road from Sam's Place; it's called Lance's Deaf Orphanage.  One of my assignments on this trip was to visit Lance's Deaf Orphanage and report on how things are going.  Huruma House does not directly support LDO or fund its operations, but last year we purchased a couple of dairy cows for the orphanage, so I was supposed to check things out.

Charles Otieno, a deaf Kenyan who oversees several of Huruma House's projects in Rongo, met us at our guest house this morning and we all piled into a public matatu for the ten-mile trip to Lance's Deaf Orphanage.  A matatu is a twelve passenger van that carries eighteen.  Cody Ben had to sit squeezed up against a young boy carrying a chicken.  The four of us finished the matatu ride safely but crumpled, then we began the mile climb up a sheer rock cliff to LDO.  (Ok, that's somewhat exaggerated, but it was a serious hike.)

When we got there we were greeted by the director Daniel Ogembo, a deaf man, who showed us around the place.  Everyone at LDO was deaf, our liason, Charles Otieno, is also deaf, and I was the only hearing person around who knew a little sign language.  Unfortunately, my sign language skills are really rusty, so we had to do a lot of guessing and finger spelling, but after a lot of patience on the parts of Ogembo and Otieno I think we finally understood everything they were trying to show us.  It seems to be a very well run nuclear waste processing facility, or at least I think that's what they said.  I usually have Stephen Greek with me to do all the heavy lifting in the sign language department and all I have to know how to say is stuff like "Where is the bathroom?"  But this year I kind of got thrown in the deep end and I had to figure it out on my own.  Dad seemed to have fun playing the charades game, too, and he was able to provide some valuable guesses about some of the finer points of nuclear waste processing.

Anyway, they have 92 rabbits.  We got to see them all, one at a time.  They also have two dairy cows.  One cow is doing very well, and the other needs a bit of medical attention (or maybe some heroine, I wasn't quite clear on that point).  Dad advised them that they should watch the sick cow another couple of weeks and if it wasn't doing better they should sell it and buy another milk cow.

This little school houses and educates 21 deaf orphans, 9 girls and 12 boys.  The conditions are pretty cramped, but it is much better than what they would have if there was no one to care for them.  Deaf orphans are the outcasts of this society.  They are often neglected by their extended family and left to fend for themselves, so I am so thankful that Daniel Ogembo and Mary Aluoch have taken these children in even on such limited means.  The deaf teachers at LDO volunteered here for four years with no salary until my deaf friend, Alex Abenchuchan, came along and started to raise some additional support.

I was very impressed with how much they could accomplish with so few resources.  They stretch every shilling and are making many efforts to raise their own food to help their little school require less outside assistance.  They also have an interesting philosophy of letting the orphan children return to their extended families a few weeks out of the year.  The idea is to make sure they have a familiar community to return to after they leave LDO.  Often the deaf children will have an inheritance or some family land that they can return to after graduation, but if the children are tucked away in the orphanage for 18 years they can easily be forgotten by their relatives and their community back home.

Also, there was a situation recently where a 12-year old neighbor boy stole one of the orphanage's dairy cows.  When the village elders learned of the crime they went vigilante and were about to douse the kid with kerosene and light him on fire.  Fortunately, Daniel and some others at LDO argued on behalf of the boy that stole the cow and they persuaded the village elders to have mercy on the boy.  Now both the boy and the cow are doing just fine and LDO is held in great respect by their community because of the way they intervened to show mercy.

Tomorrow, Keith Gafner and his two daughters will join us in Rongo and we will continue work on the poultry projects together.  We are so grateful to have Keith's expertise in this.  Also, Dad has been a real asset on this trip.  In the past, whenever people have started talking construction, my eyes just glaze over and  I smile and nod.  But Dad actually knows what he is talking about and he can have meaningful conversations with the CBO leaders about their construction projects.  He also has a lot of knowledge about raising poultry, and I am confident that these two poultry projects the CBO is beginning (a layer project and a broiler project) will be very successful and earn a lot of income for the community.

Also, we have located a very good place for our new Computer Training Center in Rongo's brand new "modern market" area downtown.  It is only going to cost about $40 per month to rent the shop.  Then we just need to buy a couple of desktop computers, a printer, and a few other supplies and equipment and we are good to go.  Daniel Magambo is going to use the place to teach computer course to the CBO members and anyone else in Rongo who is willing to pay for it.  Also, Bernard Magambo is going to run his little photography business out of this place as soon as they get a printer capable of printing photos.  I'm really excited about it.

We have a lot going on at once, as you can see, but the pace of life in Kenya is very slow, so it has been nice that we can take our time and not have to get stressed out about everything.  This has been a really good trip, and Dad has quickly gotten past the hard parts and has hit his stride.

Much love from Kenya,
Jeff

Rebuilding the church at Marera

So far our trip has been very good in every respect, except that we have been plagued with communication problems.  My new modem stopped working after day one, our Kenyan cell phones are acting flaky, and the city has been losing power at very inopportune times.  So, we have had a really hard time sending updates back home.

Anyway, yesterday I was able to grab a few minutes of time at the internet cafe (when we actually had power) and send a quick update via Facebook informing people of a pretty urgent need.  My younger brother, Cody, has been working very hard to raise money for this poultry project, but we didn't budget for any other projects.  So, when the members of the Marera Church of Christ asked us on Sunday if there was anything we could do to help them rebuild their church building, we just had to say no.

This was hard, because this little congregation of about 40 meets under an acacia tree each Sunday.  A couple of years ago a very generous friend of mine graciously donated the funds to build a church building for this community, complete with a concrete floor which is quite a luxury for these rural Kenyan people.  Unfortunately, the Kenyan man in charge at the time was not acting very honorably, and in a parting shot before he left the country, he dismantled the church building and sold the pieces.

I was so impressed by the response of the church at the time.  Rather that reacting in anger by burning the man's home (which is customary here), they responded with love and mercy.  Now that that one man is out of the picture I am very hopeful for the future of this community and this congregation.  There are some very good people here, kind, generous, hospitable, honorable, trustworthy, and spirit-filled, and I am so excited to be working with this group.  That made it even more difficult to tell them that we just didn't have the funds available to build the church building.  Instead we had to advise them that by focusing their resources on these two poultry projects, they would eventually be able to earn enough income to rebuild the building.  In the mean time, they would just have to worship in the rain.

So, as a bit of a long shot, I thought I would post a message on Facebook asking if there was anyone who might be able to help out.  This congregation has been working hard to raise the funds for their own building, and they have already purchased many of the supplies with their weekly contributions.  However, they still lacked about $1700 to finish the building.

My Facebook request went out at 2:00am Central Time in the US (because that was the only time I could access the internet), so I was sure no one would even see it.

But I forgot about my "miracle friend" in Singapore whom I have never met in person.  We actually met through a divinely-directed series of strange coincidences involving Katie Davis, the young missionary to Uganda who has inspired so many (especially me) by her life and writings (http://kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com).  Ask me about this sometime if you are interested.  Fortunately, even when Americans are still asleep the Singaporeans are up and awake, busily responding to desperate pleas for funds for rural Kenyan church buildings.

So, thanks to the generosity of two people, we have already raised most of what we need for the church building!  We are still short about $700, but my confidence in the Church responding to her African brothers and sisters in need has been restored, and I am confident that we can raise the rest.

If you would like to take part in this project and help the good people of Marera rebuild their church, you can still make a donation for this cause.  Just go to the Huruma House website (http://www.hurumahouse.org/donations.html) and click the "Donate to Marera Fund" button.  Our (woefully underdeveloped) website also tells you where to send a check if you would rather do that.

Well, this is amazing that the electricity has held up long enough for me to write all this, but now Dad and Cody and I need to get out to the site and help build a church building.  The current plan is to repair and extend the old church foundation, and then just put up some wooden poles and a metal roof.  If the rest of the funds come in soon, we should be able to add the walls as well (made of iron sheets).

We have so much going on here that I want to tell you about, but Moses just called and our Kenya friends are waiting for us, so it will have to wait for later.

Your brother in Christ,
Jeff Wilhite

A Letter from Huruma House

“Thank you for the fridge you helped us with. It's now working. It preserves fish well without getting rot. Now Pamela buys fish enough to sell for two days this make her not to go to lake everyday she go there three times a week. This gives her time to rest also help to spend less on transport.”

This note, taken from a letter we received this month, is affirming that the money invested in Charles and Pamela Otieno was money well spent. Because both of these lovely people are deaf, they have had difficulty finding employment opportunities. Charles has shared his carpentry skills with many young deaf students through the years, but recently he has been helping his wife with the fish business. Their “business” is one in which they sit at a table on the side of a dirt road with other business women and men, selling and trading. It is with pride (and relief) that Charles details how much money his wife saves each week by keeping fish refrigerated rather than toting a one-day supply of fish from Lake Victoria six times a week. They have made the trek hundreds of times since a missionary gave them a blue, Igloo cooler fifteen years ago. The two-hour ride in a public service vehicle on deteriorating roads is exhausting to the mother of nine.

Charles and Pamela refuse to call any of the children they have adopted “orphans.” “They are our children!” Charles insists as he speaks of the four young ones they added to their family after the children’s parents died of the virus causing AIDS. Assumption of this responsibility is a huge burden, and many families are accepting the challenges associated with caring for relatives and neighbors.

We are delighted to participate with this family and many other distant neighbors by sharing some of the financial burden with funds that are given to Huruma House (huruma is the Swahili word for “mercy”), a public charity devoted to serving orphans, widows, and those who are desperately poor in East Africa. AIDS has created a crisis beyond the imagination of those who have never researched the wide ranging effects of the virus. Not only does it rob individuals of strength and health, it becomes a burden to the extended families and neighbors in countless ways. One dear friend from Kenya once described the situation this way: “Imagine standing in the center of Rongo with a blindfold on your eyes. If you turn around three times, then toss a small stone into the air over your head, you must be careful! The stone will probably land on an orphan!”

Each month, resolutions are passed by the Board of Huruma House to disburse funds to our brothers, sisters, and children in East Africa. We are determined to dedicate 100% of contributed public funds to assisting beneficiaries in direct ways. Investments include: purchasing dairy cows for milk, poultry projects for eggs and meat, sustainable agriculture, seed money for businesses, assistance with education, and community feeding programs. We remain devoted to our original goals of:

• helping widows, orphans, and the very needy in East Africa
• helping in ways that emphasize a vision toward sustainability
• supporting existing indigenous efforts to feed, clothe, shelter, and educate neighbors
• developing strategies and encouraging opportunities for the East African people to grow in their faith and discipleship

Though we are proud of this partnership with local church leaders through which hundreds are served, there are thousands who still seek assistance.

If you are interested in learning more about Huruma House, you are welcome to visit our website at http://www.hurumahouse.org or write to president@hurumahouse.org. We would love to share some exciting opportunities with you in hopes that we can be

Serving others with you,
Stephen Greek
President, Huruma House
(For the Huruma House Board of Directors)

A Walk Around the Block

Chris showed up at Paul’s house on his motorcycle, “The Ambulance” as it is known by local neighbors, and suggested that we visit a number of Blessed Family beneficiaries on the way back to his place.  Though we had four people on the little motorcycle the previous day, we decided to walk through the “neighborhood.”   

The first stop was the home of Lizbet Agutu, an 80 year old widow who greeted us with kisses, an ancient song of blessing, and a celebration in a traditional dance of praise.  She honored Belinda, her “daughter from America,” with a gift. Like last year, it was the finest of her feathered flock, a red hen.

Our celebration with Lizbet ended when we continued to the next house on Chris’s route.   It was the home of Berta.  The young mother’s eyes met ours as we approached.  She sat motionless, making no move to cover her burned body.  She suffers from epilepsy which caused an unexpected seizure while she was cooking for her two children the previous week.  She had fallen into the fire, burning her neck and chest severely.  Her mother smiled as she came out of the small mud house behind Berta and greeted us.

We all entered the house and heard the story.  Berta’s mother, a widow, had been working in a nearby garden when the accident occurred.  Berta’s young son had run for help, calling Chris to come and help his mother out of the fire.  Chris took her for treatment as soon as she was able to travel on the motorcycle, but she really needed to go to the hospital rather than the local clinic due to the severity of the burns. Now, as we chatted with Berta, her mother requested that we do what we could to assist her daughter who was often “thrown into the fire” by seizures.  As we examined scars from previous burns, we were told that she had been “seized” by local men in the area and taken behind the bushes to be injured in other ways.  

We learned that Berta had been sent to a distant school to receive special education services for a number of years, but was now staying at home with her mother who helped her care for her two sons.  She and her family receive $11 worth of food from sponsors in the United States each month.  They expressed gratitude for this saying they would not survive without it. Though it is gratifying to be able to purchase salve for Berta’s burns, and give food to the children, at times these seem like little more than a bandaid for the overwhelming problems they face daily.

As we continued our rounds, visiting people in the area, we arrived at the home of Angeline.  She returned to this area when there was no one to assist her 85 year old mother.  Angeline led the old woman out of her room to meet us.  It was immediately obvious from the cloudy color of her eyes that she can no longer see. Angeline thanked Huruma House for recent assistance in re-hanging the front door on her mud house.  It had fallen off the hinges and had to be propped against the door frame each night.  She also thanked Chris for repairing the latrine.  The previous month, when everyone had gone to attend a funeral, Angeline’s mother had been led to the outhouse by a small boy.  He did not realize she needed further assistance inside the latrine where several of the floor boards were missing.  Neighbors ran to assist the old woman whose arms held her from going through the hole.  She was saved! 

Our interaction with these loving people underscores a continuing need for assistance for some of God’s children in Western Kenya. Some of our goals are oriented around the initiation of sustainable projects in agriculture and employment opportunities for younger widows, but the relief work for older individuals is a beautiful manifestation of the love of God through expressions of love for neighbors.  

Our trip “around the block” is a snapshot from our short visit, but it certainly appears to be an excellent representation of everyday life in the Bwaliro neighborhood.  

The Wheelchair: A Metaphor

by Steve Greek

Kimani gave me a bear hug.  A slight, middle aged man of about 115 pounds, he surprised me with this display of affection, or appreciation, or simple joy at seeing an old friend.  His wife stood beside him holding one daughter in her arms while her other daughter gripped her skirt and stared up at my Mzungu (caucasion) face.  Kimani took the child from his wife’s arms so she could greet me.  Hers was also a warm greeting.  I was surprised when she touched the left side of her face to my right cheek and repeated the action on the other side of my face.  This is a relatively new greeting that is used in Christian communities and among very close friends.  Both of them stepped back and reached for my hand to initiate a more traditional greeting of a very warm and aggressive handshake.

After swinging our hands back and forth for about thirty seconds with prolonged eye contact, Kimani motioned to his two daughters.  After releasing our hand clasp, we were able to communicate through Kenyan Sign Language.  Both parents are deaf.  One of the daughters speaks Swahili, Kikuyu, and is now learning English in preschool.  Her twin sister was deprived of oxygen at birth, and some profound mental and physical impairments have become apparent since her traumatic entry into the world of her hearing impaired parents.  When I grabbed Kimani’s daughter’s palsied hand with a Swahili greeting of “Habari!” she smiled a bright, beautiful smile that spoke her answer, “Nzuri! (Good!)  The whole family was attending the annual KDPL (Kenya Deaf Prayer and Learning) meeting being hosted by Sam’s Place near Rongo, Kenya.

They were excited to see Claudia and me for a number of reasons.  We are old friends! We have known Charles Kimani for over twenty years having worshiped together at a deaf church in Eldoret, Kenya years ago.  But also, they associate us with the purchase of a wheelchair for their daughter.  Ironically, Claudia and I did not pay for the wheelchair, but we received all of the thanks!  Last year, when we received the request for this assistance, we mentioned it to a few people, and within days, funds were available to buy the marvelous machine.

It seems this story is a metaphor for most of the work that missionaries do.  We have the privilege of standing beside dear people from faraway lands, sharing good news and delivering loving gestures of kindness.  We also learn and benefit in amazing ways through extended time in these host cultures. We are able to enjoy a depth of relationship with God’s children in other lands which comes from shared experiences that are made possible by a sending church, loving friends, and dear family.  Yet those who make these interactions possible may never be able to exchange handshakes, or share meals, or sing and worship under the same roof (or tree) with all the beneficiaries of their expressions of love.

So on behalf of Kimani and his wife, their children and their friends, and our new brothers and sisters in Kenya, we give thanks to all those who have supported the work among the deaf and hearing people of this beautiful country.  Thank you for the wheelchair! Thank you for supporting the National Meeting of the Deaf and sharing the financial burden of a Gospel Meeting in Marera. Thank you for your participation in a women’s meeting in Bwaliro.  Thank you for 200 Bibles that present holy scriptures to people in their native language (Dholuo). Thank you for feeding hundreds of people, caring for widows and orphans, facilitating employment possibilities, and sharing Good News of eternal life through Jesus the Savior.  You are vessels of mercy, the instruments through which Christ-like love is flowing to the people of Kenya and all of God’s creation so that Jesus will be “a blessing to all nations.”  Asante Sana!  (Thank you very much!)

Steve and Claudia Greek

Kimani and Samuel: Men with Stories to Share

by Steve and Claudia Greek

Charles Kimani’s “sign name” is really more of a motion than a hand position and placement.  To “say” Kimani’s name properly, one should put both hands in a fist-like positions and move both arms as if you were doing the breast stroke under 3 feet of water.  You also need to move your head in a dipping motion, at a slight angle that implies that you are sliding through those three feet of water to reach the surface.  Kimani explained to us that, when he was a child, he was quite a swimmer!  I have never asked why an accomplished swimmer would hold his hands in a fist-like position, but neither do I ask why Fred is called Fred, or Billy is called Billy.  It is his name!

In the first part of this report, I explained that one of his daughters has some physical impairments which necessitate her need for a wheelchair.  Kimani and his wife exhibit such devotion to their children that Claudia was reminded of Charles Kimani’s devotion to others as well.  She told a “Charles Kimani” story to our team of missionaries the other night.  It is a painful, yet beautiful story of friendship that impacted several families in powerful ways and has long lasting influence on their lives.

It was a rainy evening twenty years ago when Kimani rapped on our door.  There was an expression of urgency on his face when he indicated that our friend, Samuel, had fallen down on the side of the road in an apparent seizure.  He had been shaking violently and gone straight into an unconscious state of exhaustion.  We got into my vehicle, found him in a gully full of rushing water, and took him to a local physician who immediately admitted him in the local hospital.  He was receiving appropriate care, so I carried on with plans to go to Uganda the following day.  Before our return, three days later, I received word that Samuel had passed away with an apparent brain tumor.  

When I arrived in Eldoret, one of the first jobs we faced, was negotiating with people at the morgue adjacent to the hospital.  They had refused to release Samuel’s body until a very large sum of money (for which no receipt would be given) was paid.  I scolded and pleaded with the morgue attendants who were requesting the bribe until they released the body.  That Sunday, at a memorial service, Samuel’s family and many of the deaf people in the local community attended the service.  Those who were Christians shared stories of Samuel’s faithfulness; he always had a small New Testament in his shirt pocket, he spoke of Jesus to everyone he met, he was a humble man who interacted lovingly with others.  Those who were not Christians shared stories of Samuel’s goodness, his kindness, and the respect that he deserved.

When his family addressed the group, they indicated that, because he was deaf, and they did not know any sign language, they did not know their son.   They loved him, of course, but they were shocked and moved to know that he was a Christian and, in fact, a leader in the church among the deaf. They spoke with a few of the hearing people attending the service and made plans to learn more about their son’s Christian beliefs.   A few months later, we received word that Samuel’s family had become Christians and attended a church close to their home.

As Claudia shared the story of Kimani knocking at our door, and Samuel’s influence on his family, she emphasized that as we look out at the crowd of 106 people at the KDPL (Kenya Deaf Prayer and Learning) meeting, we are looking at many people who have a long history with the Church of Christ mission effort.  There are countless stories, most of which will never be told, but all of which should be chronicled.  There are stories that make us laugh and others we hear with regret, but all are important and all are precious.

Thank you for your part in making these stories what they are,

Steve and Claudia Greek

Cross-cultural Gifts

By Stephen Greek

“My daughter has come from overseas to see me!” Elizabet Agutu declared when she saw Belinda.  She shook hands with her and embraced her, touching her cheeks to both sides of Belinda’s face.  She greeted each of the other female guests in a similar fashion, but as she saw the grey-haired white man she got on her knees and approached him with humility.  Unaccustomed to this show of respect, everyone was relieved when she held his hand and got back to her feet.  She invited the four visitors into the mud house where the old Luhya woman had lived alone since the death of her husband and her only daughter.  

The firewood in the corner and the small charcoal stove on the dirt floor explained the pungent, but pleasant, smell of wood smoke in the house. A large “quilted” sheet, draped over sisal twine, spanned the room separating a private sleeping area from the living area. The sheet was made of a colorful array of cloth remnants sewn together to form a beautiful, but modest, room divider. 

When all the wazungu  wageni (non-African visitors) were seated, the old widow broke into song.  Chris Otsieno translated the song of praise and thanks that ended in a blessing.  In her benediction she said, “Thanks to God who has given you eyes to see poor people. If I had not received the monthly ration of food, I would be dead.” Belinda indicated that she had brought a special gift for Mrs Agutu.  As soon as she presented the blue dress to the old woman, she disappeared behind the curtain, donned the dress, and came out to show her visitors.  Elizabet sang again, but this time broke into dance as well.  She said she wanted to wear it to Sunday worship, but she could not wait, so she wore it for the rest of the day and the next day as well.

Elizabet excused herself and walked outside. As she exited her home, all the visitors exchanged knowing glances.  She was looking for a chicken.  She had expressed her gratitude in the previous year by binding the feet of a chicken together and handing the gift to Belinda, and this year was no different.  As she handed the gift over, it pooped on Belinda’s arm, which brought smiles to some of the onlookers and a relatively strong gag reflex to others.  Elizabet does not know enough English to understand the words, “Would someone hand me a Wet Wipe fast?” so she interpreted the smiles as delight.  The fact is everyone was delighted and moved with the beauty of the gift.  Mrs. Agutu asked if it were possible to take a chicken to the United States because she could select something easier to travel with if necessary.  She was assured that the chicken was the perfect present.  The cross-cultural exchange has been, and continues to be, a blessing to both women and to those who hear of their relationship.