Zach: Our friend from Kitale and guide to Kakuma

 Winnie: Youngest in the team. Great story teller, dancer and down-to-earth person. Last of the ‘triplets’.

 Lynn: The Miss with the smiles Brings life, joy and laughter to everything.

Walter: Behind every unique photo was this guy. Super funny, full of stories and witty reactions to every single statement

Brian: Simply put, the guy who would own a bakery and eat everything in it- for the love of cakes! But seriously, perhaps the most quiet and sane person in the team. Android is this man’s best friend

Budgeree: Yes. She is as serious as the photo. Great singer and guitarist and quite the opposite of Liz as regards time. That was the basis of their friendship btw

Liz: The girl with a  British/French accent and deep-rooted Kenyan mannerisms. Time keeper to the core and a very great risk taker. If you know her, ask about Lake Turkana The first of the ‘triplets’

 Ragai: One of the lead organizers behind this noble undertaking. A smart worker and really supportive!

Serah: The Blogger and number two of the ‘triplets’

Dave: One of the lead organizers and the man behind most videos and photos in this venture. The rest is a story for another day.

As diverse as our backgrounds were, we were drawn together by our love for God, people and a common desire to make a difference. It was an amazing and life changing experience for us. In the end, we not only made a difference, but found  family in the friendships we formed and in the village we visited.

PS: All photos were taken during the Kakuma trip Look out for other blog posts detailing our experience

When I say HA! I mean HAlleluya
For i am so blest, my cup is full, yea!
And if hear this i bet you’ll say ‘true that!’
For my life is renewed, made fresh as the new year;
So HAHAHA! HAlleluya!

When i say HA! I mean How Great Thou Art
To the one Savior who’s in my heart,
Same Jesus who gives us all a fresh start
If you know this is true just shout ‘What?!’
As i say HAHAHA, How Great Thou Art!

When i say HA! I mean i am so HAppy,
No longer gloomy, grumpy, even crappy
See my life has been hard, stormy, even bumpy,
But journeying with Jesus is such a fun thing
So HAHAHA, I am so happy!

When i say HA!I mean HAllowed be God’s name,
Since He came, nothing that was has been the same
He came to earth, died for me and carried my shame
Took my misdeeds so lame
So let Him take all the glory and fame
As i say HAHAHA, HAllowed be God’s name!

When i say HA! I mean How can i serve you Lord?
You see, i am just a man, a mere dot,
A girl you’ve chosen to love, my life you decided to sort
See my being you bought even before freedom i sought
Oh the thought that you promised to leave me not!
So HAHAHA, How can i serve you lORD?

When i say HA! I mean you can HAve your way
For I have tried my own only to stray
So I will do what you say
This and every other day
Oh help me Lord I pray
As i say HAHAHA, you can HAve your way!

When i say HA! I mean its gong to HAppen
Nay, not all of a sudden
But it will, see it did for Daniel
So will it for us who are heavy laden
One day our shackles will be no more even our burdens
So believe as i say HAHAHA, its going to HAppen!

When i say HA!
I mean exactly that…
HArp in my hand,
Heaven in my Heart,
HA! It is my time to laugh!

Nehemiah 8:10
“…for the joy of the Lord is your Strength…”

Flashback: Primary school. Late nights finishing up homework, early mornings reading ahead of the teacher; hands raised to ask and answer questions in class, long lines outside the staffroom to seek clarifications at tea or lunch breaks… and when at last we sat those National Examinations, it paid off for each person, one way or the other. High school bore more responsibilities, more opportunities, more freedom of choice. Four years which also played out differently for us all, more like all those instruments at an orchestra, a few featured prominently, but everyone, low or high grades, carried just as much weight. Stars shine when the sky grows dark.

Fast Forward: Present day. I’ve been on (and off) campus for a while now, and like everyone else, I am not blind to all the evil that is. Take for example, a Med student who comes to campus fresh and ready to save the world, just as the script read in his childhood, ‘When I grow up, I want to be…

A few weeks into campus, our friend falls behind in his academic pursuits, he’s been bumming and partying for overly long. So he takes on that habit called dubbing assignments and taking short notes into the exam room. If he is lucky, he gets away with it for all six years or suffers (petty) punishment once or twice over that entire period. Sometimes, sadly, he earns himself first class honors and goes ahead to be your private doctor of choice and mine too…even the president’s!

But this isn’t about the Med Student only, think about the engineer, the accountant, the architect, the computer scientist, think about you. So eventually, people die because someone did not pay attention in class, the buildings collapse, the roads, railways and runways are super faulty, chemical plants kill millions, companies close down, nations fall into debt…you get the picture.

Grades are important, good grades even better, honest grades absolutely perfect. My point is we need to pursue a standard of excellence in all that we set out to do. Degree ni Harambee? Really? See where that has taken us as a nation, as individuals! No offense, but I know we can do better than this. Honesty pays off. Always.

Because campus will be over one day soon and we all will have to prove our worth, long after the Honors are shelved, may honest character back up all that our papers say about us…and public shame befall us otherwise.

Sometimes I wish a balanced diet, a non-leaking roof over my head and hole-free clothes over my nakedness were all overrated. Then many like I would not suffer stress and sleepless nights working out plans on how to sneak our way out of poverty without the boring glances of inflation staring us in the face, stopping us in our steps as though we were but chicken thieves cornered by the chief in the dead of the night. Too much, I say! It all is too much for one man to bear. Yet still, not one man, but over half of the human race, suffers this same plight:

Every day, a mother and her children are thrown out of their house for lack of rent, thrown out of a place they call home, denied their one basic right. I wish the corridor was as good a home and that a decent house with a latch at the door was too overrated. Then I, and thousands more like myself would have nothing to worry about.

Every day, I read of a dying generation to the North of my country and I meet with many that are famished and frail, tired of life and all its twists and turns and still I do nothing, or too little to even count. Still the needy suit up to hide their flattened stomachs, wear a smile everyday and resign themselves to fate- no one likes to hang around the needy fellow, right? But what is right to do? To live weary or die trying? Too many words describing a dying world, where is the love? Who knows how to get us all out of this?

See me dragging my feet in the city streets every day, watch me slide that crispy note out of my pocket and pay for a meal I cannot afford, tag along as I parade myself in social circles, wearing the last of my borrowed show-off attires… laugh and smile with me, complement and enjoy my company. For later today, I might as well die, commit suicide, for I did not find the man that made the rules, the same ones that hurt the very least of us, the ones that raise the mighty higher and break the arms and muscle of the poor majority that hold them up.

But what good will it do me to kill myself over policies that are not my mistake, let alone my formulation? If that man was well able to ruin my life and many others by showing what need humans have and giving a few people the right to exploit us and force us on our knees, begging for the things we need, then I have as much power to counter that man, who is in fact, nothing short of a figment of my imagination. I am my worst enemy, you know; thinking myself too little to curb this mountain and of muscles too feeble to swim my way to the shores I can only dream of.

No, neither food, nor clothing and shelter are overrated. Only my fear of the unknown is. The day I storm out of my own pity party is the day change will begin. Because in essence, the only man i need to meet with, see face to face, slap and give sense to, is myself.  Then the dream will begin to take form.

Give me a word,
A real word- nothing absurd;
Let me toss it in the air,
Turn it over, notice its flare;
Let me roll it in context,
Put it in my mouth,
Chew it like cud;
Let me feel it in my stomach,
Curving it up in an arc;
Let me fathom it in my mind,
Wrap it in thoughts that bind;
Let me feel it up my spine,
As a shiver, finitely, finely defined;

Give me a word,
Have me take it up,
Stretch it out
and make it my own;
One word,
Just one word,
and i’ll make poetry of it.

And then time stops
And hope halts
And the tears can only drop.

And my strongest point
Becomes my weakest joint
And this heart grows faint
Painted and tainted by pain
Hated on and rated in disdain

Happiness finds me not
Little dear me seeks it so!
Gladness waves from afar
This sad attack has none at par!
Oh c’mon hear this cry
Raise this bar so high
From this pit where I lie
Lest I die wondering why…

You whose steadfast love
never ceases
You whose plan is so on point-
never misses
You who knew me from mama’s womb-
My hopes, ambitions and wishes.
You who IS,
Who can, who has, who will.

If I awake again,
Awaken the dawn with me!
If I rise again,
Raise my dead dreams with me!
If I breathe again,
Breathe life to these dry bones!
If I walk again,
Be the anchor beneath my feet,
The solid rock on which I stand!
If I smile again,
Let the world around me
Light up again!
If I live again,
Be Ye in my life,
Be my life,
Else, there is no point.

Still,
Teach me to face another day
To be still and trust that You
Have it all in control.

Because that’s the way it is.

Shall I sit quietly at my window,

Look outside and compare it to

The flowers that blossom and grow,

And lay strewn in colorful hues in my garden?

Or the trees that start as seedlings,

Then tower far above my head,

Giving shade to my tiny self?

Shall I see it as the sun,

A shiny rising in the east,

A bold fire in the noon,

Then a shy orange in its setting?

Shall I see it as the dew on the grass,

Glistening against the morning rays,

A lovely crystal glow at the start of my day?

Still, the flowers fade,

Even the trees fall;

The sun heals,

Too much of it kills;

The dew refreshes,

But is here one second,

Gone in the next…

But is that love?

A myriad of personalities

All under one roof?

No.

To what then, shall I compare love?

To no being,

To no feeling,

To nothing.

Let it then, be likened to

The most amazing,

Most beautiful,

Most ridiculous,

Most outstanding,

Most incredible thing

That ever happened to earth,

To us…

Love then,

Only compares to love-

And there is no love and true love,

Because love cannot be falsified;

Love is just that.

Love.

So thank God for love,

And for the adventures

that come with it;

Thank God for love,

And for the meaning

To life that only it gives,

Thank God for love,

Whose greatest show

Was that of His son,

Given up for us all;

Thank God for love

That sometimes,

Like this time,

Is nurtured and blossoms

Grows and binds,

With chords that cannot be broken.

Thank God for love,

Thank God for you and yours,

Thank God for the two hearts,

That beat together in a seamless symphony;

For two hearts made one,

For two hearts and one dream.

Thank God for Love.

**Happy love week everyone.

Dear God,

We have heard of your love for us and seen your works divine

Over the face of the earth. You really are a Great God. Still,

Some of us are not sure Your love will be for all time. We are still

Deliberating on what You promised, that You will never leave nor

Forsake us. Words are not enough to go by, you know.

In November, we will give you our clear cut answer. Our yay or nay

As pertains our acceptance of You as Lord overall and for all time.

Albeit all of this, receive our gratitude for all the cool things you’ve

Done so far. The Job story is especially on point…the bit where you

Restore Him. But just so you know, the process was a bit too harsh.

Anyways, peace.

Love,

Most of Us

One month to go, He must have said to Himself. So He got up from His Throne, a tad happier than He was the previous day and He turned His Holy Calendar. “We have to do get working as We wait for November,” He said. “Oh, how wonderful it will be to enjoy the fruit of our labor after November! The human race will finally understand our undying love for them. Son, Spirit, off we go!” And away they went, Father, Spirit and Son…to create, to provide for, to prepare a surprise for us. All of us. The human race. Isn’t it amazing how a day is indeed like a thousand years to God? Still, He waited and He worked. Labor of Love. November was only 30,000 years away…30 days if you wish. It really is the same difference for Him. (2nd Peter 3:8) encyclopedia

0600hours
November 1
Anno Domini
He must have been at His Holy desk, magnificence and power sitted at the throne, waiting for the Heaven Bound mail. He listened to the angels sing as He waited and thought how glorious it would be to have the sons of men join the choirs of heaven in making melodious sounds. Beyond heavenly, it would be Good, He must have thought. An hour passed, another and yet another. And as the Holy Clock ticked away, it dawned on Him that November had 30,000 years too (30 days if you wish), and that meant the answer would come any time in between. As long as the calendar read November. So in His endless mercy and loving kindness, He decided to wait some more. And as He did, He drew paths for the rivers to flow in and worked on all minute details that make our world so perfect, creation so flawless… November would pass and it would all be worth the wait, He told Son and Holy Spirit.

2300hours
November 30
Anno Domini
One hour to the end of November. Still Heaven Bound mail hadn’t hit heaven. Had it left earth? No idea. He took out the old, the only letter stamped Heaven Bound, now 60, 000 years old (60 days if you wish) and read it, slowly. And alas, He came to the bit that read “Words are not enough to go by, you know.” He put the letter down and looked up. It finally hit Him. The letter He was waiting for from earth wasn’t going to come. Not in September, not in November, not even in December. The very letter on His desk was an outcry from the human race. “Do something new, Lord. Come on. It’s all so the same! Abraham and the stars, Moses and the desert, Noah and the floods, Job and the calamities, Sodom and Gomorrah, oh! even Hosea and the prostitute! We need something beyond the drama; we need to see your love for real, beyond what you are able to do through and for us.” All these words yelled out of the page at Him. Not that He had missed them before; just that He had hoped human beings would learn to trust Him more. They gave Him 60 days to prove His Majesty to them, He prolonged it to 60,000 years, took it slow enough for them to understand. Still, their hearts were hardened, their minds were made up, they wouldn’t hear any of it from a Sovereign God. To them, Truth had become a cliché, one they had heard a zillion times but one they chose to not believe in. Truth was the stranger in their closet. Same place they went to pray.

0600hours
December1
Anno Domini
He sat at His glorious Desk and read from His Diary.
January 1, Anno Domini. This is the year of The Lord. My new year’s resolution is to love mankind for all time, to bridge this gap that separates us, to draw them unto me, the spring of living waters. I will do whatever it takes, for they are My People and I am their God.
February 14, Anno Domini. Mary. I have seen her, I have chosen her. I sent Angel Gabriel to talk to her and gave Joseph grace to stay with her when the time comes for Him to find out. He’s a great guy.(smiley face sticker here)
As the world celebrates love, I choose to package them a gift they will understand, relate with and appreciate. Now that I am done window-shopping, the package will be sent out in March. Long after the hype of love-season is out.
March 25th, Anno Domini. Time to send this gift. In fact, this is perfect timing. It will be delivered at a time when the world is cold and needs warmth, when love has grown old and needs a jump start, when no one even expects anything. Let us give them a surprise they will remember for all time! Yippee! (recursive smiles on My Holy Face)

He closed His Diary. It was now December; His gift was only 25 days away. He hoped, more than anything else, that no one would miss the mark this time round, that everyone would understand how long and wide, how deep and high His love was for them. All of them. And that with God, words were powerful, true and real.
This time round, He was going to give them more than a glimpse of heaven He would give them Heaven’s own, His own- Jesus. And that for Him was, still is, everything.

After November, year of our Lord, love came alive and words were made real. And even though this is September 2010, He still waits for us to seal our part of the deal. From Anno Domini, when the gift came alive, to this day and time. He sits at His desk waiting for our Heaven Bound mail, each one’s separately. From before we were conceived in our Mama’s womb, He waited. He still is.
Do you know Him? Are you His? Has His gift found a place in your heart? Is it still a parcel at the post office, pending? Is it outside your door, waiting? Did you give it to the mailman as a souvenir for keeps? It takes a blind heart to let such beauty pass by unappreciated. It takes a dead heart to not even pause a second to think about what measure and manner of love this is, that God should give His Son to us, that a man should, ultimately, lay down His life for His friends.

Take time out today, send you Heaven Bound mail. Whatever it is you need to ask, know or say. God will reply. November came, November passed. His love still remains, today and evermore.

If I am a bridge you burnt,

Then you are a lesson I’ve learnt

One that I will take with me,

Forever, long after the hurt does cease.

If I am one you care less for

I will not let your opinion take a toll

On my personality because the reality

Is that you choose not to see

Me for me

I am more than my bad days

More than my former ways

I am more than you think me to be

More than your cup of tea

I am the person that’s free

Free to be me

I let go of your oppression

Let go of your contentions

To live up to your expectations

To be your painted picture of perfection

Your tainted image of would-be redemption

And beyond your rejection

I still am God’s selection

And under His will and protection,

I will live to be me.

Goodbye oh hater

See you later or never

If you thought you were clever

Or that you were doing me a favor

Please do not cry me a river

Stay away from ‘my’ fever

Just let me be.

Beyond my imperfections

I find satisfaction

Not in your jurisdiction

But in He that is my Salvation.

So there’s the door

You are free to go

For long before you said so

I knew for you

I was but a burnt bridge.

I am the boy treading this country, scuffling rubbish pits for leftovers and valuables as it were. I am the young girl with glue in my mouth, unkempt hair, rugged clothes and a baby on my back- and three others in the gutter, dead. Two were aborted, the other died shortly after birth – my world is no place for a weakling. I will keep the one on my back alive. When she is older, she will help provide for our street family.

I am the young man in the shadows, dirty dirt in my hand, terrorizing ‘normal’ people to give me money or I smear ‘it’ on them. No one is exempt. I’ve been to jail a million times, if my life keeps unfolding so miserably, I just might kill someone, plead guilty and spend the rest of my life behind bars. At least I will have clean food three times a day, clean clothes, a warm bed and regular rides in a really nice bus. Anything but this.

There she goes, swinging her hips with shopping in her hand. ‘She probably has change in her pocket, or a banana in her paper bag. Her eyes are kind’, I tell myself, ‘she’ll probably help if I ask’ But no, she won’t. She screams at me to leave her alone and a few sympathizers are ready to beat me up if I will not make myself scarce. On a good day, I get ten shillings. I can only buy glue- ten shillings will not buy me anything filling- so I’d rather get high, drown my sorrows and fantasize. It makes me forget, about the cold, the despair, the pains from the past, the hopelessness in the future.

I love the church, temple and mosque. At least they feed us three days in every three sixty five. They dress our wounds, give us nice clothes and take tens out of our thousands for sponsorship. I hope they take me next year. Or the next. I wish I wasn’t here, but I am. I wish I wasn’t as bad, but I am. I wish people hadn’t written me off, I wish I had a better chance at life, I wish there was a way out of this, I wish…I wish.

I am every child in every town with no place to sleep, no parents watching over me, no peace, no rest. But I look happy, you say. No, I have learnt, in whatever state I am in, therewith to be content. My being still cries out. For a whole lot, but first, that my outcry would reach your heart