In Africa things just never slow down, the longer we’re here the more that happens. One day
after another. There is no easing in or out of it. I’ve gotten generally accustomed to
relating like an African (i guess, though people still often misunderstand me), now if
people show up early for things it almost seems unkind and I’d rather them be an hour late
than early, the team goes out to eat at a westernized restaurant and we all have gas problems
for the next few days, I can’t seem to sleep in past 7 now and dancing is a daily activity
(o and so is eating as a family and sharing a bed) however when I think about it in a big
picture I still just don’t understand the culture, more so I don’t understand the hardship
and oppression that to everyone is normal, it’s life, it’s home, it’s part of being African.
It is still so strange to see a child take charge of other children with the authority of a
parent and with more aggression than even I would take if I had little ones of my own.
We visited an orphanage yesterday – it houses over four hundred kids and all they seem to eat is fillers…Ugali( a flour and water mixture that expands in the stomach basically and makes
you feel full but has very little nutritional value…a staple), chapati (flat bread)
porridge and rice. With so many children and not nearly enough teachers the older ones
patrol the little ones. No one gets enough attention and no one sees if “toys” are stolen
or if one falls or get bitten by a bug..they just have to deal with it. The facility is
horribly run down and I find it so troubling to see children with nothing, no clothes, no
parents, no hygiene. They don’t have toys- I saw one boy blowing spit bubbles onto the
pavement occupying time, amusing himself…so dirty. The orphanage is called Smile
Africa and the team has visited a couple times before having lived at True Vine in January.
This was my first encounter. I could hardly interact with any of the children, I didn’t
play or run around or sing songs or push kids on swings. I just stood there, wandered this
way and that just observing i guess; watching the dynamics between the kids, observing their
reactions to the attention from the rest of the team, watching the teachers. I found myself
staring at the tiny little bundle on the floor. I could have gone over and picked her up, normally I would have but instead I stared. Inside was a little girl probably 14 months
old (though it’s hard to tell cause they are all smaller than they should be, much smaller).
She was sleeping in the middle of the cement slab which was an eating area twenty minutes
ago. Someone might step on her. I glance to the right to the sound of crying and there is
another tiny naked bay, probably only 2. He’s sitting in the middle of nowhere crying. Why? What’s wrong? Are you hungry? Do you just hurt cause the worms in your stomach are
eating you alive? Are you sick? Or did you just suddenly realize that you are in the
middle of nowhere and no one even knows you’re there. I’m sure someone would care but no
one knows about you, no one seems to even see you. So many questions are running through my head as I stare. Does anyone else see this? Surely I’m not the first one to notice you but then why doesn’t anyone answer your crying.? How often does this happen? I’m so sorry. I was pulled out of this daze to a sudden burst of tears from a child over in the field who had been pushed over or hit or stepped on. With no one to give hugs I would go over and pick them up until the crying subsided but by that time there was another in need of comfort. I’d go from one to the next- helping with owies and bug bites, swollen faces and hurt feelings. It was like I had no choice- my instincts kicked into breaking up fights and wiping tears, giving hugs and holding heads. Maybe the next visit will be easier. Did I ask to see this? Was I asked to witness this? Now that I’ve seen them what do i do? Now that I’ve seen I have a responsibility. What they need- I just don’t know. Of all I’ve seen in Africa this is most tragic. How can I come home? I once was blind but now I see and I’ve changed. How can I come home and not be bitter- no want to vomit at the society I come from, at the mentalities we obliviously indulge in, thinking
it’s normal. I come from the richest society in the history of the world, now I’ve seen this – this earthly kingdom is so upside down.
after another. There is no easing in or out of it. I’ve gotten generally accustomed to
relating like an African (i guess, though people still often misunderstand me), now if
people show up early for things it almost seems unkind and I’d rather them be an hour late
than early, the team goes out to eat at a westernized restaurant and we all have gas problems
for the next few days, I can’t seem to sleep in past 7 now and dancing is a daily activity
(o and so is eating as a family and sharing a bed) however when I think about it in a big
picture I still just don’t understand the culture, more so I don’t understand the hardship
and oppression that to everyone is normal, it’s life, it’s home, it’s part of being African.
It is still so strange to see a child take charge of other children with the authority of a
parent and with more aggression than even I would take if I had little ones of my own.
We visited an orphanage yesterday – it houses over four hundred kids and all they seem to eat is fillers…Ugali( a flour and water mixture that expands in the stomach basically and makes
you feel full but has very little nutritional value…a staple), chapati (flat bread)
porridge and rice. With so many children and not nearly enough teachers the older ones
patrol the little ones. No one gets enough attention and no one sees if “toys” are stolen
or if one falls or get bitten by a bug..they just have to deal with it. The facility is
horribly run down and I find it so troubling to see children with nothing, no clothes, no
parents, no hygiene. They don’t have toys- I saw one boy blowing spit bubbles onto the
pavement occupying time, amusing himself…so dirty. The orphanage is called Smile
Africa and the team has visited a couple times before having lived at True Vine in January.
This was my first encounter. I could hardly interact with any of the children, I didn’t
play or run around or sing songs or push kids on swings. I just stood there, wandered this
way and that just observing i guess; watching the dynamics between the kids, observing their
reactions to the attention from the rest of the team, watching the teachers. I found myself
staring at the tiny little bundle on the floor. I could have gone over and picked her up, normally I would have but instead I stared. Inside was a little girl probably 14 months
old (though it’s hard to tell cause they are all smaller than they should be, much smaller).
She was sleeping in the middle of the cement slab which was an eating area twenty minutes
ago. Someone might step on her. I glance to the right to the sound of crying and there is
another tiny naked bay, probably only 2. He’s sitting in the middle of nowhere crying. Why? What’s wrong? Are you hungry? Do you just hurt cause the worms in your stomach are
eating you alive? Are you sick? Or did you just suddenly realize that you are in the
middle of nowhere and no one even knows you’re there. I’m sure someone would care but no
one knows about you, no one seems to even see you. So many questions are running through my head as I stare. Does anyone else see this? Surely I’m not the first one to notice you but then why doesn’t anyone answer your crying.? How often does this happen? I’m so sorry. I was pulled out of this daze to a sudden burst of tears from a child over in the field who had been pushed over or hit or stepped on. With no one to give hugs I would go over and pick them up until the crying subsided but by that time there was another in need of comfort. I’d go from one to the next- helping with owies and bug bites, swollen faces and hurt feelings. It was like I had no choice- my instincts kicked into breaking up fights and wiping tears, giving hugs and holding heads. Maybe the next visit will be easier. Did I ask to see this? Was I asked to witness this? Now that I’ve seen them what do i do? Now that I’ve seen I have a responsibility. What they need- I just don’t know. Of all I’ve seen in Africa this is most tragic. How can I come home? I once was blind but now I see and I’ve changed. How can I come home and not be bitter- no want to vomit at the society I come from, at the mentalities we obliviously indulge in, thinking
it’s normal. I come from the richest society in the history of the world, now I’ve seen this – this earthly kingdom is so upside down.
In order to heal injustice, to remedy the wrongs of this world, the antidote is not merely to insert justice. We must insert love, which in Christ is above all things, that the hurts of humanity may be soothed. That is why Christ came to the world, not to bring a just earthly kingdom, to reconcile injustice, but to love with an everlasting love that heals gaping wounds and scars alike, that injustice might not be merely righted but redeemed. Jessica Becker
Psalm 22:1-2, 42
Psalm 130
Psalm 22:1-2, 42
Psalm 130
–jenessa lynn
WOW, you have REALLY been gripped and understandably so. I agree, we ARE rich and hardly know the suffereing around us. Hang in there. You ARE ok and will be ok, as you make your way home. Yes, you’ve changed, and for the better. Give yourself time to adjust and your heart will follow.
Love Dad.
I love these “instincts”… which really is just the hands of Christ doing what they do best: loving. This is great stuff Jenessa!