Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Back in the U.S.

I just arrived back in the U.S. for the holidays. It is soooo nice to be back home.

A Ready Harvest

Check out this video and come work alongside us at Planting Faith Ministries:

Holiday Parties

I celebrated the Jamhuri independence holiday last week with several friends from Akiba and elsewhere at my apartment:

Lounging on the couch
Laughable Moments

Njoroge after lunch

Later in the week, Lucy’s family held their annual Christmas gathering. Here’s a few pics:

With the family.




Lucy's Parents

Straddling the Equator


In 1849, a German missionary, Dr. Johann Ludwig Krapf, astounded European scientists when he claimed to have discovered snow on the equator. The snow is still there today. . . One of our farming projects is near Mount Kenya and right on the equator. Because of the altitude, it is actually quite cold.


There's a sign on the equator in Nanyuki, and we met a local guide who led us 20 meters north of the equator and showed us water spinning clockwise through a drain. Then we went south and saw a counterclockwise spin. Finally we stood directly on the equator and watched water flow straight down through a hole without spinning. Pretty cool stuff.

Dry Days

The water at my apartment has been absent for nearly a week. This of course makes laundry, cleaning, cooking, bathing, and flushing the toilet virtually impossible. Fortunately, I rarely do any of these things anyway. . .Most housing and apartment complexes in Nairobi have huge storage tanks which help residents deal with the irregular supply of water. Our tanks have all run dry and even the plastic “emergency water jugs” I filled are now empty. The city council has decided not to turn on the water supply until later this month. I buy my drinking water, but it’s a challenge living without water for other things. Fortunately, one of the askaris (guards) has agreed to provide 40 liters of water from an unknown source. I think he may have “borrowed” it from one of the neighbors.

Planting Passion Fruit

Recently I spent a couple days planting passion fruit with farmers in Mangu, Kenya. We worked in partnership with volunteers from Helping Hand Ministries in the U.K. and planted 180 passion fruit seedlings on three different farms. It was hard work, but very rewarding. Most farmers in Kenya have very small plots and are subsistence farmers, growing food only for themselves or yielding small harvests for sale or trade. In our work with Planting Faith, we help farmers escape the poverty and challenges of subsistence farming through sustainable agricultural development. Here’s a shot of some of the volunteers and farmers at one of the shambas in Mangu:



A Kiwi Visit


Recently I hosted two seminarians from New Zealand. Aaron and Jordan visited Kenya as part of a Kiwi Mission Team with Church Army. They ran a week-long camp for young children, helped with some painting projects, and visited a variety of ministries. Wow, it was a lot of fun having western visitors. Here they are hanging out with some of the kids at Light and Power:

Monday, October 22, 2007

Hospital Hospitality

Hospitals in Kenya are interesting. Nairobi has some of Africa’s best hospitals, but appearances can be a little deceiving. For example, the “Emergency Room” here is called the “Casualty Department.” Also, hospital administrators often require patients to show a receipt before they can receive any drugs or injections. When I was most recently in the hospital, I had to have someone run back and forth to the front desk with cash for each lab test or every time the doctor wanted to administer medicine. . . In rural areas, hospitals are usually downright atrocious. It’s hard to imagine life in a community without a good hospital.

Malaria Strikes

Malaria is no fun. It gives you fevers and chills. Somehow it alters your sense of taste and balance, and it makes everything that is inside you decide to come out. . .and keep coming out. I’m in the final stages of recovering from “plasmodium falciparum with multiple bacterial infections.” The prayers and support of family and friends have really meant a lot. I was graciously hosted by Sam and Lynn Owen for much of my recovery and they’ve helped nourish me back to health. Also, Anne helped me out a lot with an emergency medicine run. Actually, the sickness has not been nearly as bad as it could have been. I’ve felt an unusual sense of peace and encouragement in the midst of it, and I really appreciate the love and care I’ve received. Continue to pray for energy and strength. I’m still really, really tired.

At the Kiosk



My local 7-11 is only four blocks away. Simon and his father, Nelson, run a kiosk on Sports Road. They have an aluminum stall and a small stand that sell all the essentials: fresh vegetables, bread, eggs, flour, milk, and sugar. Simon and Nelson have become good friends and I visit their shop almost every day. They’re open daily from 8 a.m. to 9 p.m.

Kisumu Ex Street Boys

Here’s me with Kisumu Ex Street Boy, Maxwell Omondi:



Maxwell is a delightfully honest and joyful young man who has been through a lot hardship. When I met him he only owned one t-shirt and a pair of shorts and sandals, and he slept at night in a canvas sack on the side of the road. Despite his struggles, Maxwell is an incredibly bright student and gifted singer. After meeting him, I felt a strong call to become more involved in his life. I currently help sponsor him to go to school, and he has joined a group called Kisumu Ex Street Boys. He lives with them and now attends the New Kisumu High School; he hopes to finish his courses next winter. . .Thanks to the donor who recently offered $50 to help Maxwell. This will provide a nice lunch for him for the next two months. Prior to that, he had been going to school without breakfast or lunch. Pray for him as he finishes the school year and tries to recover from typhoid.

Below, Lucy joins former street children for a photo. Twenty children and youth who used to stay on the streets now live in a home and receive care and counseling from Kisumu Ex Street Boys. Former street boy and founder Dancan Omondi continues to seek out and help street children as best he can. Many of the kids are able to find school sponsorships and receive desperately needed care.




Visiting Day

Visiting Day at St. Francis Boarding School in Rang’ala:






Jacinta is an avid singer and she and two of her classmates treated us to an impromptu concert:


Bandits, Breakdowns, and Bumpy Bus Rides

Recently I traveled from Nairobi to Ugunja, a small town in Western Kenya for a weekend. I went to visit Lucy’s sister, Jacinta (nicknamed Chi Chi) at her high school. While there we also spent time with some of Lucy’s relatives and visited with a ministry to former street children in Kisumu. It was a great trip, but a long journey. The bus ride to Ugunja is about 10 hours and covers some very bumpy and uncomfortable “roads.” One particularly rough stretch of “major highway” features more holes than a donut factory. At one point during the night our driver accelerated rapidly over a series of bumps. He had sped up to avoid a gang of rock throwing, machete-wielding bandits on the side of the road. Later, when we were in a passenger van, we received help from a friendly butcher after a mechanical break down in his small village. It was quite an adventure.

The Puppet Show


Everything has changed. . .since the arrival of the puppets. In August, several friends from TFC donated puppets to Light and Power. Since then we’ve seen a dramatic transformation take place. Attendance at our Saturday morning program has doubled to nearly 60 children each week. Dozens of children and their families stop by to watch the puppets and join in the fun.



Because of the puppets, people everywhere are spontaneously breaking into song and dance.















Since the puppets came, theft has ceased in Gatina and guys at the Centre volunteer for all kinds of helpful tasks. For example, Lenny and Eric recently volunteered to spend their holiday digging a giant ditch for the Centre’s trash.















We’ve even had two friends from the U.S. decide to come and volunteer. Margaret Bakke and Jonathan Howard joined in the fun of the puppets.

















Finally, the political landscape in Kenya has undergone a dramatic change since the arrival of the puppets. The incumbent president, who was once dominating the polls, now trails by nearly 15 points. . .Never underestimate the power of a puppet.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

What I've Been Doing

I have a new routine this year. I am no longer teaching classes at Akiba School. Instead, I’m spending time with a few other ministries. Most mornings I’m still in Gatina, meeting with the guys at Light and Power. While there, I lead devotions; mentor and counsel; and assist with business development. Currently we are in the process of developing a website, making new products such as gift boxes, trying to improve facilities, and expanding the Centre's market. From time to time I teach afternoon classes in statistical analysis and computer skills at Elishadai Computer College. The College has just opened a new campus in Western Kenya and we are hoping to continue to spread to reach more rural areas by partnering with local churches. Sometimes I also spend my afternoons working on video or communication projects for Church Army Africa or other local ministries. One day a week I travel outside Nairobi with Planting Faith Ministries. Planting Faith currently has four projects for rural development with farmers in various parts of Kenya. They set up coops with farmers and harvest passion fruit, onions, and cut flowers. I’m just starting, but my role is mainly to meet with small groups of farmers for Bible studies, discussions, and Christian discipleship. I’m still trying to take Swahili classes, but I must admit that my language skills are lacking. It’s a challenge trying to be disciplined and it seems there is always a lot to distract me. One thing I’ve discovered recently, is the joy of house help. I now have someone from Gatina who helps me one day a week so I don’t have to frustrate myself hand-washing clothes and trying to keep things clean amidst the dust of Nairobi and the mud of the slums.

A Library in Gatina

Many thanks to everyone who donated books to Light and Power Centre. We now have a fully functional library with over seventy books. The guys here are very excited about the books and are reading regularly. Two of them plan to start high school in January and have pledged to read a book a week to prepare. We're hoping the library can continue to grow in the future. Having a variety of books really opens up the world to slum dwellers and enables great opportunities for education and growth.

Dreams from the Slum

Recently, I started meeting with each of the 11 guys at Light and Power to talk, pray, and plan about their dreams and goals for the future. Here are some of the dreams they feel called to pursue:

Study and Train to Be an Auto Mechanic
Go to High School
Develop a Music/Dance/Creative Arts Centre in the Slum to Help Youth
Attend University and Open My Own Business
Continue My Education and Become a Lawyer
Use Football to Minister to Idle Youth in the Slums
Attend Driving School and Become a Driver
Have a Close Family and Be a Good Father in the Future

Considering their current circumstances, these are big dreams. We are praying and trusting God to continue to guide each of their steps, provide for their needs, and lead them into His will.

I have no name – Adventures at Nyayo House

During the former President Moi’s regime, Nyayo House was rumored to be a torture center for dissidents. At the present time, this large office building in Central Nairobi houses the Kenyan Immigration Office as well as other resident registration offices. Some would argue, it is still a center for government-sponsored torture. I’ve spent quite a number of days there; waiting in line and filling out forms, and as far as I can tell, the system there is like a bad a DMV on crack.

For example, during December of 2006, Amber, Anne and I applied for Resident Alien Identity Cards and Work Permits. After waiting in multiple lines to fill out a plethora of paperwork, we were told to come back in five weeks to pick up our identity cards, which would be valid for a period of three months. Six weeks later, the cards still were not ready. Two months later the cards still were not ready. After checking the status of the cards again, I was told not to bother because by the time my card would be issued it would already have expired. As of October, 2007, my identity card is still not ready and it would have expired in March 2006.

Yesterday, however, I did manage to acquire my long-awaited work permit. After eleven months, the paper work was finally completed and I was told that I could come to Nyayo House to collect the permit. I entered the building and waited in Line Number 9 for permit inquiries. As I approached the front of the line, however, the registration officer decided to take a break for tea. The line waited for another twenty minutes without moving until he returned. Upon reaching the front of the line, I was told to go down the hallway to Room 16. After waiting in line there and explaining that I had come to collect my permit, I was then sent up five flights of stairs to Room 5-31. The government employee there, however, was not happy to see me and didn’t want to be disturbed. He sent me back down the stairs to Room 16. I waited in line again. The employees in Room 16 were confused and questioned me as to why I decided to return. When I explained the situation, they told me I had to go back upstairs to Room 5-31; the man there was the only one who would be able to help me. After climbing the stairs again I was feeling quite tired and frustrated, but again the man in Room 5-31 told me he didn’t like something with my paper work and I would have to go back and wait outside of Room 16. I complained that he was just running me in circles, and asked for his name and title so I could file a formal complaint. The man refused to tell me his name. Upon further questioning he told me, and I quote: “I have no name, go back to Room 16.”

I was in no mood to go back downstairs, however, and as our argument continued, I was eventually sent to “the man with no name’s” supervisor. The supervisor was called J. Ngari and unfortunately he proved to be just as unpleasant as “the man with no name.” J. Ngari told me I would have to go back to Room 16 and wait, then I could return to the “man with no name”, then I would have to go back again to Room 16 and my paper might be ready by then. I suggested he place a simple phone call to Room 16 to resolve the issue; that way we could all save time and I could avoid another 15 flights of stairs and multiple lines. Plus it was almost time for their lunch break, and if I didn’t get the permit soon, I would have to wait outside the building for another two hours and then start all over again. I even offered J. Ngari my cell phone to make the call to Room 16. After much persuasion, he reluctantly placed the phone call and told the woman there KiSwahili: “go ahead and give it to him.” The permit had been sitting neatly on her desk the whole time. My friends told me later that J. Ngari, “the man with no name”, and “Room 16 woman” were all looking for bribes. I had just thought they were being really annoying.

Rooming with Peter

Lately I’ve been rooming with a friend, Peter Abiya. Peter and I work together at Light and Power, and when we’re home we take turns cooking American or Kenyan food. Peter joined us as a mentor at Light and Power several months ago. Prior to that he worked with ministries to street children in war torn areas of Northern Uganda and Sudan. He has some amazing stories and has an incredible heart for mentoring and discipling young people in Christ. Unfortunately he’s moving to another part of town soon, but it’s been fun having him here for a while.

The Dismissal


Recently I had the sad duty of dismissing one of the guys from Light and Power Centre. This was the second time for me. It’s one of the hardest parts of working with this ministry; for every success story there’s also guys who just have to be turned away. Mike is a former street kid who has been involved with Light and Power for over ten years and been one of our key leaders during the past year. He loves playing soccer, has strong gifts of leadership, and likes to joke and sing loudly. Unfortunately, he’s also developed bad habits of theft, deception, and abuse. He’s been misleading many of the younger boys at the Centre and has recently hurt its reputation in the community. After a lot of difficult drama we realized that for the benefit of the Centre, Mike needed to be dismissed. Please pray for him as he tries to move on. Pray for his young daughter and orphaned nieces and nephews who stay with him. Pray also for us as we begin a new chapter at Light and Power. We are hopeful that this change will really help the other guys and allow opportunities for growth.

Church Army at Mount Kenya


Here’s a photo and some short clips of Lucy’s journey to the summit of Mount Kenya. The peak is one of the highest in Africa and is a challenging five-day hike to 5,000m. Their office at Church Army Africa used the hiking trip as a team-building experience and as a way to raise funds to purchase desks for children at one of their schools.




I’ve been working on several projects with Church Army and am excited about what they do throughout East Africa. Check out the video I’ve been working on for them:

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Speaking the Language

Sheng is the language of the street in Nairobi. It is a mixture of English, Kiswahili, and tribal slang. It is constantly evolving and is the common language of urban youth. Most of the guys at Light and Power are well versed in Sheng. I’ve been taking classes and trying to learn Swahili, but Sheng is just too crazy and too tough for me. Sheng varies from one neighborhood to another and employs all kind of strange contractions and meanings. In the Eastlands area of Nairobi, for example, someone can take an English word, say it backwards, conjugate it like a Swahili verb, add a Kikuyu infix, and it becomes Sheng. Here’s another example: the term “mbao” is common Sheng for “pound”, which is slang for shilingi ishirini, which is Swahili for twenty shillings, which is Kenyan for 200 cents, which is equivalent to about thirty pennies in the United States. “Mbao” is an average “matatu” or public transportation fare. “Matatu” is slang for three pennies, which in Kenyan shillings is 300 cents or roughly a nickel. I have no idea how this works.

Fun Facts from Kenya (Part 1)

Hippopotamuses can run over 20 kph. If you’re being chased, run side to side. They can’t turn very fast, but in a straight race they’ll catch you quickly.
In Swahili, 7 a.m. means the first hour of the day and is considered one o’clock in the morning.
There are 40 tribes in Kenya. Each has it’s own language, style of dress, and traditional foods.
It is almost always seventy-something degrees in Nairobi. But when it hits the sixties it’s fashionable to break out a winter coat and wool hat.
Kenya has over 1,000 known species of birds, including tens of thousands of pink flamingoes.
It takes two weeks to hand-sew a net for catching tilapia.
Kenya is the second leading exporter of flowers in the world.
The Taco Bell in down town Nairobi is not really a Taco Bell.
During the annual wildebeest migration, up to 2 million wildebeest and half a million zebra travel in massive lines between Tanzania and Kenya.

Back in Nairobi

I just arrived safely in Nairobi and am getting settled again. Thank you so much for your prayers. It was really really great being home for the month of August. I feel refreshed and rejuvenated. I also gained 8 pounds. Upon arrival here, several friends met me at the airport, and I had a nice meal and fun reunion before crashing for the night.

On Again. . .Off Again

I realized there was something wrong when I tried to print the plane ticket. I planned to leave for Kenya the following day but was unable to access my itinerary. I spent an agonizing hour on the internet and phone trying to figure things out, and I was starting to get worried. My flight had been booked for over a month, but when I spoke with British Airways I learned that my reservation had somehow been canceled at the last minute. The travel agency was closed for Labor Day weekend, and it wasn’t possible to rebook a flight with British Airways over the internet or phone on such short notice. Furthermore, the prices for new flights were nearly double what I should pay, and they wouldn’t drop for another week or two. I was supposed to my landlord and pay rent in Nairobi by Wednesday and didn’t know what to do.

It has been difficult preparing mentally and emotionally to return to Kenya. After finally feeling ready, it now seemed I would have to wait. . .But I wasn’t comfortable with waiting. I made a last-ditch effort through a 24-hour travel agent and secured a ticket for early the next morning through Rome and Ethiopia to Nairobi. I began to pack hurriedly and think of all the things I needed to do before leaving. Then the new reservation fell through too. The connection time wasn’t long enough. It had to be canceled. So, I emailed my girlfriend, my friends and coworkers in Kenya and told them not to expect me anytime soon; to cancel plans to pick me up from the airport.

All this back and forth was overwhelming. It left me feeling very discouraged. I went to bed late that night, frustrated and tired, and I gave up on the idea of returning to Kenya anytime soon. It just didn’t seem possible.

In the morning, I asked some friends to pray for me and I read a few verses about Paul’s troubles with travel (Romans 1:13, 1 Thes. 2:17-18). That seemed to calm me a bit, and after breakfast I went to contact family and friends and let them know that I would be around for another week or two. As I opened my email inbox, however, there was a surprise. Miraculously, my travel agent had randomly checked her email during vacation, wrestled with British Airways in the early hours Sunday morning, and booked me a previously full seat on my original flight. I would be leaving in a few hours. . .This has been a hard lesson in trust, patience, and accepting God’s timing. But with His help, somehow I guess I’m on my way.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

A Small House with Many Rooms


Sheets of corrugated tin shield the sun’s gaze and soften the din of a thousand feet shuffling nearby. The tin is rusted through in places and juts into the red clay like shards of glass. Hedged together and held upright by a series of nails and punctured soda caps, it forms one of the walls that are home to most of Nairobi’s population.

Nairobi slums have some of the smallest houses in the world. Most measure less than 8 by 10 feet and could compete with an average parking space. Inside lives a nuclear family of four, an uncle and his brother’s children, or a grandmother caring for five orphans. With dirt or concrete floors and no windows or water, life here is tough. And space is tight.

Amber, Anne, and I are privileged to represent The Falls Church in Kenya and have had the joy of being invited into many homes in the slums. Once inside we are treated to tea or a traditional meal and offered a tour of the sitting room, bedroom, dining room, kitchen, and office. They’re all the same – the shared space of many rooms.

It’s an amazing contrast to our castles in Northern Virginia. Growing up in Falls Church, it was possible to share a home with everyone in a different room, rarely gathered and seldom seen. Closeness can be uncomfortable.

In Kenya, poverty forces most of the intimate living arrangements, but the culture also values closeness. Babies are cuddled constantly against their mother’s back, streets are packed with activity, and public vans burst with passengers. When I tell friends that I live alone, they can’t understand how anyone could do that. “It must be so boring.” Recently, two friends from Kawangware’s Gatina slum joined me for an overnight retreat. We stayed in what would be considered a normal middle class home in the U.S. After discussing sleeping arrangements, we all decided to stay together with sleeping bags and blankets in the smallest room. The rest of the house was just “too big.”

Being on the other side of the globe from home, I often wonder about this big world we live in and my space in it. Where is my space and what is it filled with? For now that space seems to be the urban slums of Nairobi, where there are many challenges as well as chances to grow. I thank God for lessons learned from faith-filled slum dwellers. Houses are small, but hearts are often too large for words. Inside there is room.

Open wide your hearts also. . . In my Father’s house there are many rooms.

Kenya Kids






Kids from Kenya say "hello." Here are some of the children who live near Light and Power and attend our Saturday Outreach Program.

A Day in Jail

Recently I spent a day in jail. On July 28th I awoke early in the morning and traveled by matatu to prison on Nairobi's industrial east side. As I alighted from the vehicle, my escort pushed us past a series of Kenyan soldiers and inside the compound. It was dusty and hot, and as we dodged chickens and goats along the path we approached two main prisons: one for petty thieves with short-term sentences, and the other for violent and hardened criminals. Fortunately, we were headed for the small jail (or "jaila ndogo"). I was there to visit my girlfriend. . .and her family.

Lucy has been in jail most of her life. In fact, she grew up in a prison where her dad has worked as a chaplain for the last three decades. In Kenya, all prison wardens, guards, and employees live in government housing on site. The compound I visited was home to an estimated 2000 families, and was complete with a nursery school, hospital, two churches, and a host of small businesses. It was village in and of itself and had a strong sense of community and an unexpected serenity. Children were playing outdoors. Cobblers and barbers and vendors were busy with their trades, and small groups of women were chatting and hanging laundry. In the midst of it all, prisoners marched around in black and white striped jumpsuits.

The Beaten Boy

There is something about a young boy being beaten to death. Something that doesn't sit right. He was around 13 years old, with tattered clothes, and covered in dirt and sweat. His shoes had fallen apart and were half way off his feet. Without family, without a home, without food, and without hope, he had been living on the streets. He was on the streets for some time, probably sniffing glue, begging, and occasionally stealing to survive. Now he had been caught in the act. As the crowd yelled "thief" this time justice wouldn’t let him go. What struck me most was that the boy offered no resistance. He didn't try to fight back or run away. He just received each blow as men continued to strike him. He absorbed punches in his head and strong kicks to his body. His small bones bent awkwardly and snapped beneath the force. Yet he never screamed or tried to resist. This young boy who had been beaten by life didn’t feel like he had a right to anything else. He had been abandoned by his parents, cast out by his family, and rejected by society. He probably knew little of love. There are thousands like him in Nairobi. As he fell hard to the pavement of Tom Mboya Avenue, I pushed my way through the crowd and walked quickly away. . .Somehow he reminded me of Jesus. Since then I haven’t been able to look at a street boy the same way.

Street Justice

Since I've been in Nairobi, I've seen two lynchings. Both of them occurred on busy streets in broad daylight in the middle of the city. In each case, I was on my way to catch a bus when I saw two or three people begin to surround and beat a suspected criminal. In the first instance, a young street boy was pushed into the middle of the road, stopping traffic on a major thoroughfare as men took turns hitting him. Crowds soon gathered and others joined in the melee as onlookers cheered each act of street justice.

In many poor communities in Kenya, theft is a capital offense. In the slums, it is not uncommon for thieves caught in the act to be publicly beaten to death or set on fire. These communities take theft very seriously; mainly because poverty is already so overwhelming. Stealing an aluminum pot or a charcoal stove could ruin an entire family’s livelihood and put them on the streets. As a result, poor and hardworking families are often frustrated by crime and with the corruption, injustice, and inefficiencies that have long been associated with the Kenyan judicial system. So sometimes victims of crime take matters into their own hands.

The government and police forces officially discourage such acts and are struggling to improve the system. For the most part though, it seems Kenyans support street justice. Sometimes it's the only means to protect communities and restore social harmony. For me, watching a boy beaten as large crowds cheered was a sickening and sad experience. Unfortunately the scene repeated itself on a different street two days later. . .

On Top of Nairobi



For 200 shillings a piece and a little patience, my friend Edwin and I ventured to the top of one of Nairobi’s tallest buildings, Kenyatta International Conference Center.

Faithful Gardener

Richard ran out with a stick and threatened to fight the would-be thief. This plant snatcher had crawled across dense grass and pushed his hand through our broken fence. A crooked middle-aged man, he desperately wanted to steal our plants.

Light and Power Centre has a new garden. The lush plants are a refuge amidst the mud-filled squalor and rubbish of Kawangware slum. The garden is still small, but it really does stand out as something different. People regularly pass by and remark how nice it looks. The guys at Light and Power planted the garden with the help of our professional landscaper, Michelle Flores. Michelle volunteered at Light and Power for several months while she was in Nairobi. She got to know those at the centre, encouraged and shared with them, and then worked with them to build the garden. . . We are hoping to put in a real fence soon, a place for kids to play, and maybe even a small kiosk. If you’re interested in helping us, let me know at kenyaconnection@gmail.com.

Three Daves

Dave Comeau (henceforth nicknamed "Galacho") and Dave Thorton (AKA "Goliath") joined me in June at my flat on East Church Road. Galacho and Goliath had just finished their first year at Christopher Newport University and decided they wanted to spend part of their summer serving the poor in the slums of Nairobi. Galacho and Goliath both taught at Akiba School and also amazed the youth at Light and Power with their guitar and bongo playing skills. The Daves not only entertained, but also encouraged. They were a huge help to us in our ministry and are definitely missed.

The Man who Ate a Tree


I was house-sitting in a mansion on the road to Kiambu, when I met a security guard who likes to eat trees. “I can eat a tree each day”, Patric told me. I listened in disbelief while he shared of his eating exploits, but I soon found his words to be true. In fact, Patric once planted an entire forest and proceeded to eat the whole thing. “An eight-foot trunk makes for a good lunch”, he would often say. Patric’s favorite food of course was the sweet stump of the sugarcane plant. Sometimes he would go for several days and eat nothing but sugarcane. “It gives me energy to stay awake and guard the compound at night.”

The Amalfi Coast


I spent a joyful two weeks in May visiting with family and traveling along the Amalfi Coast. I met up with my brother, sister, nephew, mom, and aunt in Naples. It was a great vacation. We feasted on pizzas and pastas and traveled throughout Minori, Maiori, Positano, Ravello, and Capri. During that time I hiked through groves of lemon trees and went swimming in the Mediterranean almost every day.



Watch a video of our Italy trip:



Building Bridges in a Swamp

There is a swamp that skirts the edge of Gatina Village. It fills with rain and refuse, and pushes out from the slums to the lowlands of Lavington Estates. The swamp breaks the monotony of red clay and tin huts and hides the ignoble waste of man and beast. It also floods during the heavy rains, swallowing homes and covering the road that runs south from Light and Power Centre.

In recent weeks, workers have hauled dirt and struggled to raise the road and ward off the surging waters. Their labor seems vain. The rainy season now washes most of the soil into a pond, pushing the waves ever higher.

Sometimes ministry in Gatina feels like building bridges in a swamp. There is no firm footing and progress is quickly washed away. Since our first newsletter we've experienced immense difficulties and challenges in Gatina. We've seen strikes, embezzlement, theft, and threats; deception, division, and even death. There are so many obstacles I often wonder whether we’re in the right place. Can we really build bridges in a swamp? God, do you really want us to work in Gatina?

Many in the village have resigned themselves to the harsh realities of slum life. A palpable apathy pervades the slum - the strong reluctance to change or work to improve one’s conditions. "What I work for is stolen, what I build is broken, the ones I love are constantly taken away. So why should I work, or build, or love?" Trust is a hard thing here, and hope is uncommon. This is life in the swamp. Amidst the challenges we are strengthened by your prayers, and thank God that "we who have fled to take hold of the hope offered to us may be greatly encouraged" (Heb. 6:18).

Welcome to Nairobi (Archive)

There are no perfect beginnings. But we had to start somewhere. In many ways our beginning has been unexpected, filled with challenges as well as happy surprises. Our team landed in Nairobi a little over a month ago. We came as representatives from The Falls Church, with giant duffel bags and hand sanitizer and a desire to serve. We believed God was calling us to leave our homes to serve him. The church supported us, encouraged us, and sent us with a mission to listen, learn, and build relationships in Kenya. It was overwhelming and hard, but we said our goodbyes, collected our bags, and left.

In the past month, there have been miscommunications and confusions, housing headaches and computer crashes, power outages and water shortages, and even sicknesses and robberies. But we're here, and we're learning and making new friends.

We've been blessed by the warm hospitality of our friends in Kenya. We've spent time at Akiba School, Light and Power Center, Beacon of Hope, TULIP, and the Kibera Card Center. We've also been finding our way around Nairobi. In the process, there have been half-marathons, charging rhinos, graduation ceremonies and basketball tournaments, chapati pizzas and frosted donuts, exploding art supplies, matatu escapades, national exams, and executive board room meetings and quiet conversations in the slum. Amidst it all I know that God has begun something new. This is a new world, strange and often troubling but deeply beautiful. . . Welcome to Nairobi.

Monday, April 23, 2007

Conversations in Kisumu

I had seven hours to wait until my bus departed, so I wandered around the city. Kisumu is full of markets and has a large central park. After a while I found an interesting pick-up basketball game sat down in the park to watch. Duncan and Alfred saw an mzungu sitting there and ventured over. They were dressed well spoke eloquently. They seemed different from the other street boys. We sat together for two hours while they told me their stories. Duncan even wrote his down for me. It goes like this:

“I was born in the year 1989. I was born out of wedlock while my mum was a school going girl. I grew up as a young boy under the care of my beloved grandmum in Siaya until it reached a time when I had to start my primary education. I learned up to class six and my mum came and took me to Nairobi where I met a man whom my mum forced me to call ‘dad.’ Surely he wasn’t my dad because every time he would beat me and tell me that [since he was with my mom, he could also do anything he wanted to me.]

Unfortunately, when I reached standard seven, my beloved mum died in a road accident. It was painful, but God relieved me from the pain. During my last primary year, my dad (the man) got drunk, beat me, and sent me to my grandmum. There I did my primary exams.

Come my Form One year in Secondary School, my dad died and I was totally rejected by the rest of my family and relatives. I went to the streets. Life in the streets is worse than any other life.”

Duncan and Alfred both scored in the top levels nationally on their primary school exams. They would be valedictorians in most Kenyan schools. Each is 17 years old and hopes one day to get off the streets and go back to class. If anyone is interested in helping with a school sponsorship, send me an email at kenyaconnection@gmail.com

Chickens in Church

On Sunday we stopped by St. Mark’s and picked up 25 children to accompany us on the next leg of our journey. From Orengo, Akoko Church was still another 12 kilometers away and the children were to perform a song and dance routine they had been practicing for weeks. They were all very cute and excited because today they were borrowing colored shirts to wear as uniforms. When we arrived at Akoko we found hundreds of villagers waiting for the monthly all-parish gathering. During the four and a half hour Luo service, we prayed, sang worship songs, listened to Bible stories, shared holy communion, and watched parishioners bring tithes of rice, maize, eggs, and live chickens.

The Trip to Orengo

I knew there was a problem when the metal door slammed shut. I froze and watched the bus slowly drive off. Jackson and I were supposed to be on that bus. Jackson still hadn’t arrived. He was with the police; arrested for riding on the wrong matatu, or not wearing a seatbelt, or some such nonsense. . .This is how our journey to Orengo began.

After Jackson escaped from the overzealous traffic police, we pleaded and begged our way on board a bus bound for Kisumu – a city 7 to 10 hours from Nairobi (depending on driver aggressiveness on the crater-filled roads). We made the trip in about 9, but as we approached Kisumu, torrential rains flooded the main city street knee deep. We grabbed our bags and alighted in the rain. Our friend Caroline was struggling through the surging waters in a hired tuk-tuk (golf cart). She motioned us inside and whisked us away to a matatu depot where dozens of travelers were stranded, waiting for a ride. We were fortunate enough to find space on a matatu headed for Bondo.

Matatus are normally designed for 16 people (14 passengers, one driver, and one conductor). However, twenty soaking riders filled our car along with their sopping wet luggage. The vehicle pushed its way through traffic and rushing water, but on the outskirts of the city we were stopped at a police checkpoint. An elderly women sitting on my rib cage began to pray that the police wouldn’t notice we were overcrowded. Other passengers whispered to one another in Ja-Luo. I searched frantically for anything resembling a seatbelt. Meanwhile, our conductor smiled and passed 300 shillings to a police officer. “Have a nice evening” he said. We continued on. We continued on and on and our matatu plucked another 4 passengers from the rain. For a good price they were allowed to force their way inside the wet car and ride. There was not enough room to close the door, so the conductor hung to the side of the van as we drove through the driving rain.

We continued for another hour like this, reaching Bondo late in the evening and in the midst of a blackout. The darkness was overwhelming, there was an occasional flickering fire, but nothing could illuminate the town around us. We left our matatu and found shelter in the awning of a kiosk while Caroline pondered our next move. Because of the rains, the “road” to Wichlum was flooded and impassable. Normally we could take a 30 minute piki-piki (motorcycle) taxi to Wichlum, and from there a boda-boda (bicyle taxi) to Orengo. But now we were stranded. Caroline considered our options and contacted two friends. They came with a car, we piled in, and navigated our way through the dark and mud to a church in Gomba. There we were greeted by the church’s Rural Dean with three of his nine children and invited to stay for the night. The hospitality was amazing. They slaughtered a chicken and prepared it for us, along with ugali, greens, and fresh yogurt.

After resting for the night and taking Chai with the Dean, we continued our journey. Our group descended towards the edge of Lake Victoria, passing fields of maize and millet and wandering “primitive cattle.” We hoped to take a boat to Nyamuua, but unfortunately, as we approached the shore we learned that there were no boats docked at Nango because of an infestation of hippos. Furthermore, the path to Orengo was still too wet for bicycles or motorcycles. We would have to walk. The hike was about 15 kilometers and took every bit of strength in the Nyanza sun. . .We arrived at Caroline’s homestead early in the afternoon. For the next two hours relatives and neighbors came to greet us and pray. Then they offered us a feast of fish while Jackson and I fell asleep in our chairs.

A Day at Bomas



Over Easter, I had the chance to visit Bomas of Kenya. It is a large National Park in Langata that features replica homesteads from many different tribes along with a theatre with daily shows of African acrobatics and traditional dancing. I went with a group of guys from Light and Power. Here’s a few pictures:

Light and Power Retreat




In March we held a team building and training retreat for the guys at Light and Power. We held two sessions from the week-long retreat at Nairobi Arboretum. Here are a few pictures from our time there:

Saturday, February 10, 2007

A New Home and a New Roomate







Set on the banks of the Nairobi River. It’s little more than a trickle and a moat of mud, but the landscape is green, the neighbors are friendly, and the setting is serene. This is my new home and so far I like it a lot. I just moved in yesterday and am still getting settled. The flat is relatively small, but it has one bedroom with a kitchenette, full bath, and sitting room. There’s even a small yard and laundry area out back. I’ll be sharing the place with a colleague from Light and Power, Tim Omwanza. Tim has become a good friend and is a talented musician who leads worship at a local church. Tim also helps mentor the guys at Light and Power and currently serves as the Centre’s Director of Marketing.

How I Spend the 9 to 5


My schedule has changed a lot since I’ve been here, but recently I’ve found a groove and now have a set routine for the next few months. I’ve been spending my mornings at Light and Power in the Gatina slum. I hold Bible studies and prayer meetings with a group of guys from 8-8:30, then work with them to make paper bags. There’s about 12 guys at Light and Power, plus our cook Beatrice. Most of the guys have been making bags for a long time and see Light and Power as an opportunity to provide an income for themselves and their families and also to help their community. The guys are an incredibly diverse group. They represent nearly a dozen different tribes. Some grew up in strong homes with traditional families, others spent their childhood on the streets or bouncing from one home to another. Some graduated high school at the top of their class and are now in University part-time. Others never went to school and lack any formal education whatsoever. Some are Christian, some are Muslim. All of them are trying to escape destitute poverty and bring hope to Gatina.

In the past two months, we’ve been through a lot of struggles together. These guys have a lot of talents and gifts and a strong determination to succeed. They’ve lived through crime, disease, hunger, abuse, and a lot of hardship. Many were manipulated and mistreated by leaders at the Centre before, so there is still a lot of mistrust, suspicion, and theft. We even had a small revolt/uprising and had to dismiss one of the members because of some of the trouble he had been bringing. As a team, however, we’ve been growing together, and we have a solid leadership group that hopes to cultivate a strong sense of community at the Centre. We’ve also been working with Amber and Anne and the Light and Power Board of Directors to try to stabilize the bag business, and enhance the Centre’s impact on the surrounding slum. Recently we’ve moved into a new home, updated our business and management structures, solidified our accounting, developed a catalog, and expanded our marketing base. Amber and Anne have also started a Saturday program with games and activities for children in the slum. In addition, Beatrice holds a small literacy program and Bible club for girls twice a week in the new house. She hopes to reach more young girls in the future and we’ve been discussing strategies to do this. Unfortunately, Beatrice doesn’t speak much English, so I’ve been trying to learn Swahili. We do our best to communicate to one another, but sometimes it comes across kind of funny.

I take Swahili classes for a couple hours three days a week. Amber, Anne, and I found a great tutor nearby, and we’ve been taking classes separately, but enjoying our interactions with our teacher, Peter. Peter has been focusing on conversational Swahili and we’ve also started some basic reading. Learning a language on top of everything else is challenging and frustrating. It makes my brain tired, but Swahili is a beautifully poetic and at the same time amazingly well structured language.

In the afternoons, when I’m not studying Swahili, I teach three days a week at Akiba School. I have 9th and 10th graders for Computer Studies, which means introduction to computers and the basics of Microsoft Windows and Office. Many of the students are very bright and eager to learn, and several are Light and Power members who have received sponsorships to attend school. Classes are going well, but teaching requires a lot of creativity. The school is blessed to have a computer lab, but there are only a few working computers and many of those have viruses or other problems. I have classes with up to 36 students. With the limited number of computers and frequent power outages, teaching here is a real challenge. I end up drawing a lot of pictures on the board.

On Wednesdays and sometimes Saturday afternoons I work with a small Computer College at St. Luke’s Church in Kibera. I’ve been helping with some of their classes and also with their business structure. The college has a solid board of faithful Kenyan men and women who volunteer their time to provide education and positive activities for youth in the slums, many of whom are idle, unemployed, and tempted by a life of crime. The college offers a variety of courses as well as job training and ministry activities. They minister to many Kenyans in the neighboring slum, which is the largest in Sub-Saharan Africa. There are also several Sudanese students, and there are large Sudanese and Ethiopian communities that worship in the church during the week. Recently several of the school’s graduates found successful jobs in Nairobi and Southern Sudan. The college hopes to expand its outreach in the future and partner with other churches. They have plans to plant computer schools in neighboring urban slums as well as in rural areas of Kenya. The founder of the College is a good friend and from time to time he invites me to visit with him and help “facilitate” local church services. Jackson is currently working his way through seminary, studying urban ministry and missions. He also teaches and preaches at many churches and youth conferences in addition to working with the college. If anyone is interested in helping with his seminary tuition, let me know.

In general, life here has been an adventure: busy, tiring, and often a struggle, but never boring. I’ve been learning a great deal and am grateful for my friends here and for your support back home. Most of the time, I’m not sure what I’m doing, but God has been faithful, opened many doors, and helped me through many challenges. Thank you so much for your prayers and support.

Close Encounters with Slimy Creatures


As I went to wipe my face, I had an unsettling, slimy surprise. A giant slug had somehow managed to climb through the window and settle down to sleep inside my towel. As you may imagine, I was quite surprised to see him there just two inches from my nose. I threw the towel across the room and sent the slug crashing into the wall. He was unfazed. This was by far the largest slug I had ever seen. . .Now you can see him too, hanging out with Abraham Lincoln. I must say, the picture doesn’t do him justice, but maybe you can get an idea. He’s really really quite fierce looking in person. . .Apparently giant slugs are fairly common in Nairobi. Recently I ran into a dozen or more in one of the slums where I work. I also encountered some other slimy creatures in the slum. The last couple of weeks I had been experiencing fatigue and stomach issues and wanted to get it checked out. I went to the doctor to learn that I had “developed” worms. Because of problems with water purity, sanitation, and living in close proximity with animals, worms are a normal part of life in the slums. In the poorer areas, one common cure is to drink extremely potent alcohol in hopes that it will kill the worms or convince them to leave. Fortunately, pills are also available. I’ve been encouraged to take them and de-worm regularly. Worms are a major menace, but if treated are not a significant health concern.

Traffic Jam


In a country where there are no stop signs, traffic lights are optional, and everyone has the right of way, traffic jams can be a bit tricky. When you also consider that paved roads are littered with potholes and dirt roads become impassable when it rains, traveling in Kenya can be quite difficult. Here’s one of the roads I’ve had trouble on recently. Later a larger truck broke down, blocking traffic on a major highway near Maasai Mara. Dozens of cars and buses tried to go around the truck, but got stuck in the mud. Meanwhile, the two lane road became a six lane parking lot. I waited for a little over an hour with hundreds of others who got out of their cars to push, offer advice, or just watch the drama. . . Despite the difficulties, I’ve come to learn that Kenyan drivers are remarkable efficient at getting around. Matatu drivers are especially good at inventing shortcuts, racing through round abouts, or just driving through obstacles.