Kambu region, Kenya 10th Feb.

On our way back to the parish along the dusty roads that appear off the main Highway to Mombassa, I noticed a building in the distance behind some trees and said to Fr Thomas  “what’s that? Can we go there?” It turned out to be a school, the poorest school I have ever seen. As we pulled up, the Principal came out of his office, looking a little startled at our arrival. He immediately sent for a chair for us to sit down. We asked some questions about the school and listened as he shared with us about the struggles the school is facing, particularly the lack of food supplies, which had been promised to arrive each week but which had not come for 3 months now. “Many of these children are literally starving….” he told us. I asked if I could visit the classes. Much to my surprise, the children seemed frightened of me. When I asked the teacher what was wrong, he said to me “it’s not just the color of your skin, its your hair, your camera, your sunglasses….its everything about you.” I discovered that I am the first “white” person to visit this school, in fact I am the first visitor they have ever had…and apparently I am the only white person these kids have ever seen (I’m assuming they don’t have TV). Wow, that just blows me away. I can’t help imagining what it would be like to send some young people here from Australia, or anywhere really. It would just make their year! And to spend some time with these gorgeous kids would impact anyone’s life forever.

On my “tour” of the school, I saw the staff room with one table of texts books (about a dozen books) – the total sum of resources for the entire teaching staff. I also saw one class having a lesson about HIV / AIDS and how it is spread. We were then shown “the garden”…some very sorry looking seedlings barely alive in the only shady spot on the school grounds…and yet the Principal expressed such hope that there may be some food from these dried-out seedlings, but not enough. As we drove off the kids chased the car waving and calling out “goodbye”. My last sight of that place was some small children foraging through the forest looking for something to eat, some berries or something…

I discovered today that we are supposed to be going to a tiny community called Atiak (near the Sudanese border) and that the people there have been preparing for my visit for months! But we are having such trouble finding a vehicle for the 4 hour drive there tomorrow. This saga with the car is making me realise how conscious people need to be to have integrity in mission. To just turn up here and have access to our own vehicle would not show solidarity with these people who are so poor and share a few vehicles with the entire community….

18th Feb… we can’t go…problems with the vehicles…I feel completely devastated…mainly because I feel I have let them down so much…I just heard how they have prepared dances and ceremony and even a new name for me: Anya-Dwe – something that means “daughter of the moon” in the local language, Acholi. They gave me this name because they haven’t had a guest from afar for some decades. I’m sending up the little koalas and some books with one of the priests…Can’t believe we’ve traveled so far and still we can’t quite reach them…this is so sad…

I’m sitting here under the cashew nut tree reflecting on what I just heard about the groundsman here, a young guy…very friendly. Fr Charles told me the story of how the man’s wife was abducted by the rebels and she never returned home. He thinks she must have been killed by now. I can’t even imagine that… He has 2 small children back in his village over 100 kms away and yet here he is serving with such humility and kindness. Ahh…he just brought me a chair…wow, amazing, once again reminding me how we are all so connected

HOPE

found me today

and awoke me from my slumber

of unfeeling

a little boy’s shoes

tattered and torn beyond belief

but somebody noticed

someone cared

…an act of love

the evidence remaining

somewhere in the realm

of eternity