Wednesday, September 23, 2009

How do you help someone who has nothing?

This is the question I got to ask myself today (Saturday 19th). While walking to Nakumatt (the supermarket) my attention was caught by the woman ahead of me who crossed to the other side of the road. It was an odd place at which to cross. As my eyes returned to the path ahead, I see a crumpled figure – a woman – with her child tied on her back as women do here.


The first thought that came to mind was the story of the good Samaritan, and also the song from school with the words “would you walk by on the other side…”


I’ve nothing on me except a Visa card and so I do walk past. I try to gauge if she’s been crying, if she has any energy to help herself and her child. I carry on my way to the bank and then the supermarket.


Walking the isles I’m thinking “what does she need today, at this moment?” In Kenya, maize flour is the staple ingredient – it’s not so expensive but it what she could make the most amount of food from. But does she have a place to cook it? Is she living on the street?


I settle on a bottle of Coke (what Kenyan doesn’t like Coke) and a good sized packet of peanuts – thinking that the child was not so young.


Walking back up the hill from Nakumatt, I’m sort of hoping she’s not there as that means she’s not in such a bad shape. At the same time, I want to be able to give her the Coke and peanuts as I don’t want to go home and enjoy them myself. Looking at the bend coming up, I see her still there. I wait for two slow walking security guards to pass her and then I start my approach.


“Habari.” See looks up. In the awkwardness of the moment I’m already in my shopping grabbing the peanuts and the Coke. “I saw you here on my way to the shops and I thought you might like these.” “Do you have a nyumbani (a home)?” She shakes her head in a ‘no’ sort of way. “I pray that you may be able to find somewhere to sleep tonight.” I make eye contact with the child on her back and say “Sasa!” The child smiles. I’m disappointed to see that the child is younger than I had thought. I hope the peanuts aren’t too much of a problem for him.


As I begin to walk off, I pass the two security guards who are standing, talking to a third. “What’s up with her?” they ask. I tell them she was there earlier and so I thought I’d just chat with her. With pleasantries exchanged, I turn into my road and home.


Since writing this, I have been reminded through a friend's blog that things aren't always so different in Britain: http://onlybestrongandcourageous.blogspot.com/2009/09/blinkered.html

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Notes on having a 'mission' in life

Work. This is something I have done much thinking about over the past 21 months in Africa. I remember back in 2004 when applying to UCCF’s Relay Training program, telling them how inadequate I thought I was for the job (or no doubt something like that) and hearing back “we think you’re too hard on yourself.” At this point my internal monologue was saying something like “if only you knew!”

At university, my favourite week of the year used to be missions week – I loved the energy and the hustle and bustle the week or two demanded. Usefulness. Again, when working at a trade union (that will remain nameless) – it might not have been an organisation that was always well organised – but I knew what it felt like to long periods when I was well in my element. In my first ten months there, I don’t recall have one member of the public maintain a raised voice with me, and I would positively enjoy the challenge of appeasing angry Direct Debit customers and answering the questions of confused soles.

Where am I going with this? Well, now days I work with a Christian NGO. I have a ‘ministry’. Surely this is the summit of wellbeing? Not quite. That nagging voice saying I’m not pulling my weight is present and the words I heard at my UCCF interview that “I’m hard on myself” are there also. We are a massively complex organisation that is present in over 70 countries around the world, with a workforce from about as many countries. We do fantastic work with local populations in some of the most inhospitable places on Earth, with never quite enough financial resources. Every now and then there are hurdles and disappoints, difficult conversations, difficult e-mails, misunderstood cross-cultural phone calls and more besides that can be used to eat away at myself and my colleagues.
So besides the obvious needs for regular prayer and the need for a correct view of myself from Scripture, what new insight do I have to offer on the topic? This:
My ministry here and now, is my life here and now. The ways I mix with those around me – Kenyan and expatriate. The way I look to be generous with my time, and with my finances. If I come home from a difficult day at the office, I am thankful that I can at least see the fruit of God bringing me here in other corners of my life.


As I was thinking this all through, these words from the Bible were the ones I came to. I may already have a ministry, but this is the full scale of my ministry and of the churches’ as a whole:
Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'

Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'
The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'
Matthew Chapter 25, verses 34-40

Monday, September 07, 2009

Sunday


  • Wake-up

  • Breakfast

  • Prepare for Sunday school (first week back from holidays baptism of fire)

  • Kenyan friend pops in for help and prayer – he then leaves to travel up-country

  • Leave for church (via a photocopier at the office)

  • Lots of police around as the President of Kenya is nearby

  • See a troop (apparently called a gaytard) of baboons crossing the road on the way

  • Service begins

  • Sunday School starts a few songs in – Kenyan, South African, British, American kids

  • Ethiopian food with Cara & Daniel (who had just arrived back from Garissa) and Jacqie from home group

  • Job came over at four o’clock with green bananas – cooked some Matoke and chatted. His wife is still waiting for the breast cancer operation

  • Job left. Walked Upperhill for an hour – past the British High Commission and Coca Cola Headquarters. Watched the sun set on the city centre, the buildings looked great in the orange glow

  • Ate some lite dinner

  • Watched some TV boxed-set episodes

  • Showered as there’ll be a power cut in the morning (happens Monday, Wednesday and Friday due to the drought and lack of water for the hydro-electric dams)

  • Washing-up

  • Bed – take my chances on the power still be on when I wake, and I’ll iron a shirt then