Today, Lucy was having a crisis when we got to the home. She had been up all night, crying. The older girls tried to console her, to no avail. I joined Cary out in the field, where they were chatting in private. Lucy has 4 brothers. Richard, 10, is at Nagolie. The other three, unbeknownst to me, are at a home in Rongai, only 30 minutes away (I go here often). Lucy was devastated that she had not seen her brothers in 6 years. She desperately wanted to go visit them, and her grandmother, who she hasn't seen in 7 years, because she lives near Kilimanjaro. It was heartbreaking to listen to her story and to see how important it is for her to reestablish a connection with her brothers. Agnes had promised Lucy, on many occasions, that she would take her to visit her family. Not once did she make good on this promise. Lucy has been carrying this burden with her for quite some time, to the point that she was diagnosed with an ulcer just this week. She has been suffering from stomach pains, to which Agnes replied: "You are faking illness to get out of school. If you don't go to school today, I will throw you out of the home". Cary asked her if she would want to go today, and she nodded yes, asking us both if we would come with her.
30 minutes later, Tony, Sho-Sho, Cary, Lucy, Richard and I were on our way to Rongai. We found the home, about 1/4km off the main street, down a rocky, lovely road. Once through the gate, I fell in love with what I saw:
This home was started by a man in London, who was struck by the street kids he encountered on his trips to Kenya. Rather than purchase or build an orphanage, he leased this property, and hired Ben, a Kenyan, to run it. They took in 15 street kids, all boys, and an orphanage was born. Ben became increasingly troubled when he discovered this orphanage was really a business, designed to exploit the children. The two men separated, and Ben took over the home. As the story of the home was being told, I listened intently, struck by the parallels of my own experience. Today, the home is a great success; the boys are sponsored to attend boarding schools, depending on their abilities; neighbors participate by cooking and watching over the home if Ben is absent for a few days; the boys are free to play in the neighborhood with other children, and football matches are organized right on the property. A program is in place when each child reaches 18, whereby the orphanage finds them a place to live and helps them to secure a job.
Lucy's mood brightened considerably during our visit. When Sho-Sho asked Richard if he wanted to live here, he said YES. Cary and I feel he would be so much better off living in this environment, with his brothers. Here they were, only 30 minutes away, and he had no recollection of any of them. I don't see this transfer as possible, but if it were up to me, I would have Richard moved today.
When we got back to the home, Cary and I had a long and illuminating talk with the older boys. They let down their guards completely, for the first time. They informed us that Agnes will not let them take food from the home to school, so that they may have lunch. She knows 2/3 of children leave at 6:00am and do not return until 4:30 - 5:00pm - with NOTHING in their stomachs except a cup of porridge. (The little children return from school at 1:00pm) Simon (13) looked at me and said "We have to stand around at lunch and watch everyone else eat." I felt sick. Whatever they do manage to get, they gave to the youngest children. They are well aware that those who are unable to secure good grades, suffer from exhaustion due to hunger. They continued on the talk of food, by asking me if I would leave the pantry full before we leave - they are very worried. Emmanuel told us that right after we left in January, Agnes went to the home, demanded the pantry key, and stole cooking oil and tomato sauce. I bristled, thinking out loud: I am not going to provide HER food. I will speak with Sho-Sho about this today. She must be accountable for the pantry, it's contents and the security of it. This is her job. Further, she should not wait until there is no food, she needs to speak with Agnes 2 -3 days prior, to give her the heads up. Of course, this would be the sensible thing to do, but she lives in fear of this woman, so she is unable to ask her for anything.
The stories continued...... there are two children (that we know of) who provide Agnes all the information about what is happening at the home - particularly while I am here. She challenges any child who tells her 'Simmie bought us food today', by asking "How do you know? Did you see her buy it?" As we listened in horror, laced with humor (yes, this really is possible here) we brained stormed on ways to get around Agnes and her corruption. Emmanuel led the charge, as always. They decided they would approach Agnes, voice their complaints to her, and inform her that they are aware of their Constitutional rights. Cary and I encouraged them to do so without haste. We will find out this morning how this meeting went.
There is woman staying here at Whistling Thorns who has devoted her life to providing health care to orphans and the poor, in the Nairobi region. Patricia is somewhat familiar with my story, and has offered to connect me with a nun who runs an orphanage with so much corruption that it will be closing it's doors by the end of the month. When we returned for dinner last night, she came over to me and announced "Nagolie is not a registered home". When I questioned her as to how she was so certain, she addressed each of my points about the home in our earlier discussion, which she had raised with her friend: The compound is not secure; there is no guidance counselor; there is only one matron; child labor is prohibited; and stating the obvious: the boys are living alone, without a matron, in their dorm. I asked "Is it possible Agnes paid off the inspectors?" She replied "No it isn't. A government inspection takes place with a guidance counselor".
It all makes sense now. Agnes is never available, she refuses to meet with the board, and cannot keep track of her own lies. I have texted the Chairman this news, and added if this meeting is cancelled on Monday, the guidance counselor I hired will be reporting Nagolie to the authorities in Nairobi, on Monday. In Agnes' immortal words "This is a very serious matter". This time, her words may come back to bite her. One can only hope. I will have an update tonight, I hope.
It's an uphill battle here in rural Kenya. I am thankful each day that Cary is here with me. We are able to take turns crying and venting, and most importantly, laugh a great deal. It's a perfect balance, in the heat of the emotions we face minute to minute. Thank you, Cary, for loving this work as much as I do. Emma, if you are reading this, I know you are going to be a powerful force to reckon with when you do come with me to Kenya. I look forward to it.
We are off for the day. The internet has been so poor (non-existent, mostly) that blogging at night has been tough. Hopefully tonight there will be a signal.
Kwaheri for now,
Simmie and the kids
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