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.