An African Matriarch

Recorded by Stephen Greek

Paul Bwire translated for the seventy-four year old widow as she laughed, “I am inviting visitors into my house without a scarf for my head! I am embarrassed!” She was using the cloth that typically covered her short, grey hair to carry mangoes that had fallen from her tree. Her name was Elizabeth Agutu.

She followed us into her own grass-roofed hut and dumped the fruit onto the hard dirt floor. Lizbet (Elizabeth) said she was happy her tree was loaded with the sweet fruit. It had not yielded any fruit for the last two years. She added that this food is a blessing, but having this big a crop is interpreted by Luhya people as a warning that drought was on the way.

We sat in chairs made from skillfully bent tree branches. Our host chased several chickens out of her house and indicated that she only had four left since lisimba, the mongoose, had eaten the rest. But these chickens were safe because they were sleeping in the house with her.

She called me mtoto, the Swahili word for child, which surprised me since my white hair prompts most people to call me “old man.” She indicated that she had several pictures of the two of us together. I realized that I had met her before, but I have met so many people, I didn’t remember sending her the pictures.

Mandy explained who we were. We wanted to interview her on behalf of her sponsor in America. We asked what she would want us to tell her sponsor. Her first response was that without the food, tea, and soap she had received this year she would be dead. She pointed to her great-granddaughter who was sitting, nursing her great-great-grandchild and added that they also had been eating the food. When we asked about her marriage, she reflected that she was married in 1946 and had her only daughter, Rispa, in 1948. Rispa grew up, married, and had six daughters, but she died when these children were still young. While her husband was attending the funeral of his only daughter, he sat in a chair grieving and suffered a deadly heart attack, right there at the funeral.

Mandy leaned over and asked me if it would be okay if she divulged the fact that Mandy’s mother, Belinda, who was traveling with us, was Elizabeth’s sponsor. She wondered if it would be appropriate for Belinda to come meet her the following day. I thought it was a great idea so Mandy divulged the secret. Lizbet Agutu immediately stood up and raised her hands as if basking in a blessing from God, she stood for a moment then started waiving her arms back and forth. She reached out to Mandy and embraced her. As she spoke, Paul translated, “your mother is very welcome, in fact she is my daughter and you are my granddaughter.”

The next day, Paul, Chris and I took Belinda see Mrs. Agutu. We came with a four-inch thick foam rubber mattress we had purchased for eleven dollars. As we introduced Belinda to Lizbet, they hugged and Lizbet insisted on a picture.

She walked over to her bed (also made of tree branches) and lifted the wool blanket exposing a stiff cow hide. “I want you to see what we have been sleeping on for all of these years!” Then Lizbet Agutu did what must be an ancient dance of jubilation. Her arms were lifted in celebration as she approached me. The old woman put her arms down and rested one hand on each of my shoulders. “Mtoto wangu! Ndio, wewe ni kijana wangu!” My child, yes, you are my son! Barak Obama has a white mother and you have a black one!” Then she abruptly turned toward a bag in the corner. She got a handful of maize and walked to the door of her hut. She made a call that sounded remarkably like a chicken and four hens came running to peck at the kernels that had been thrown to the threshold of her house. She reached down and grabbed the largest of the hens and walked over to Belinda.

She interpreted the shock on Belinda’s face as surprise at the reciprocal gift. She tied the legs of the bird, placed it ceremoniously into Belinda’s lap, and hugged her again and said, all my grandchildren are dead, but tonight, my daughter from America has come to visit me and I will not sleep on a cow skin tonight. She broke into a shrill, “lalalalalalalaaa!” Paul translated it, “Hallelujah!”

Fences of Brotherly Love

“Our enemies have blinded our cow!” The board members of Gift Academy
wrote to Jeff last month adding that they needed a fence around their
fledgling school to protect the children and the two milk cows.  The
letter indicated that a neighbor had thrown a stone at one of the
cows, hitting it in the head, and damaging its right eye.  “We don’t
know who threw the stone, but this morning the cow was injured!  One
of our enemies has done this and we need to build a fence for
protection from those with bitterness in their hearts.”

Jeff responded.  Rather than build a fence, why not address the
bitterness.  He suggested that a list of family names be compiled with
“enemies” of Gift Academy at the top of the list.  Jesus taught that
we should love our enemies.  In a situation like this, he might have
reminded us that we have heard it said, “an eye for an eye, and a
tooth for a tooth,” but we should forgive those who persecute us and
be kind to those who blind our cow!

Our mission group visited Gift Academy last week.  They have been the
beneficiaries of some contributions from Christians in the States
recently and have built a small one room classroom that also serves as
a dining area, church building, and dormitory for the 25 orphans who
stay there full time.  The milk cows were given to help feed the 40
children learning there.  While there is a genuine need for protection
for these children, nurturing rapport with the neighbors might be a
better way to protect them than a fence.  Claudia and I had the
privilege of visiting 12 of the 20 families on “the list of enemies.”
Before going to the first house, we discussed the fact that all of
these people were God’s children, created in his image, and should not
be referred to as enemies, but rather as neighbors.  The word enemy
was removed from our vocabulary.  In an expression of love for our
neighbors we wanted to bless each home with a gift of a goat.

Seven members of the Board of Directors of the small school/orphanage
walked through the rural shambas (gardens) of maize and vegetables. At
each house we visited, we met a family who worked hard to “make a
living.”  I use these words in a literal sense, for without the daily
attention to the gardens, “ketch kayogi,” hunger bites them.  In fact
we met several people named Aketch and Oketch, names given to a girl
or boy born during a time of extreme hunger.

We explained that we are Christians and we take the teachings of Jesus
very seriously.  He tells us to love our neighbors.  The donors
helping Gift Academy and Sam’s Place want to be a blessing to the
people in the entire community.  The reason the board chose the name
“Gift” is not because they want to receive gifts, but rather give
blessings to the people in the neighborhood.  We wanted to present
them with a female goat.  Although the goat is free, we do make one
request.  That the first born kid of the nanny be given to another
neighbor, and this family would respond the same way so that this gift
can continue to bless the community for many years.  This “pay it
forward” goat project was warmly received.

In each house, we prayed for blessings from God, and left with
confidence that we had made new friends.  Everyone expressed joy and
excitement, indicating that this is the way communities should be,
neighbors helping one another.  Gift Academy no longer wants a fence.
But they are thinking about a goat pen!



Stephen Greek

News from Stephen Greek at Sam's Place

Things are going well here in Kenya.  We had a fantastic KDPL (Kenya Deaf Prayer and Learning; they named it themselves) seminar.  There were 200 deaf people registered.  If there was a problem, it was that we had planned food and bedding for 100 people, then we wondered if any would come at all because some of the deaf in Kisii never got an invitation.  There was speculation that invitations were not sent out.  In reality, Otieno only sent them to people who would not hear through local correspondence.  He was trying to save on postage so he did not send the invitation to local people.  But lots of invitations went through texting and email so we had a record turnout of 204....  with the staff and kids, it was 267.  As a side note, it was the loudest deaf assembly I ever heard, but they didn't seem to mind the noise.  Claudia, Kenny, and Alice had an amazing class for the women, and Carl and I felt very good about the men's classes.  The whole group sessions were very well received.  The four college students, Mitchell, Bonnie, Ashley, and Savannah, had classes, games and activities for the 30 deaf kids and the hearing children of the attendees.  Registration was a full time job for Kim, Sharon, and Julie.  Sunday worship was beautiful and culminated in a walk to the nearby stream where 7 men and women were baptized.  Everyone worked very hard and it was a "resounding" success.

We are going to visit Charles and Pamela Otieno this evening.  I am very excited that Alice, Carl, and Kenny are going to join Claudia and me on this visit.  Carl and Kenny are both deaf and Alice has known Otieno and Pamela for many years. tomorrow, we will all go to visit the people at Gift Academy, next door to Sam's Place.  Wednesday, we are all going to Kuja School for the Deaf to greet them and talk about future cooperation.  Thursday, the schedule has us visiting Lances school and orphanage for deaf children near Kisii.  On each of these days this week, there are other activities at Sam's Place that are ongoing with the teachers that are working with the kids,  so days are long and hard.

I'll let you know more later, but I need to get our little visitation group ready to go.  We love and miss you, and I suspect we will find more time to email now that KDPL is behind us.

Love,

S and C