When we got to Vivian's office, Vivian announced that this was the "first she had heard" that I wanted to transition the children from Nagolie to WWC. Lucas glanced in my direction, knowing I would be horrified, and pounced. Vivian held steady. I was "allowed" to speak and recounted my various visits with her superior Ruth, back in April. I suggested that she look at Ruth's notes from our meetings, because just the suggestion that this was news to her was laughable. I wasn't laughing, however, because there weren't any notes. As incredulous as I was, I kept mum. Lucas squabbled with Vivian over this for a few seconds, then moved on to the registration. Vivian looked at me and said: "you are not registered, so how can you talk about moving the children?" Lucas intervened and said we had a CBO (community based organization) registration, and this is adequate. "Where?" she demanded. "I don't have one." I had to look the other way when she said this. Lucas pulled one out of his file and grilled her as to why she wasn't informed. "I was out of the office". "Apparently, there is a lot of mis-communication between you and Ruth. Did you two talk about WWC? Or are we starting from scratch here?" AS it turns out, the DCO withheld our application for final registration permits, after Tony submitted it in May. I was furious, but there was absolutely nothing we could do about it. The damage was done. The DCO deliberately waited until the Nairobi Commission met mid-June, and then filed our application. Lucas checked the June submission list, and WWC was not on it. He said "This is June. Why no submission?" Vivian smugly passed on the July submission form to Lucas, and there we were. They do not meet again until September. This means: no moving the children until we have this form. Corruption in it's purest form. The deliberation of this move made me sick.
The conversation turned to me. Vivian informed us that I could be in serious trouble for posting pictures of the children on my website. Lucas demanded to know why. "Because WWC is not registered". I interjected: "WatotoWorld, Inc. is a registered US non-profit. Watoto World Center is an entirely separate entity." "Not to us, it's not" she barked. "Do you have a work permit??" No, I explained. The Kenyan and American Embassies have both assured me that this is not a requirement..I am a volunteer; I am not working, nor am I paid. Check with them. She backed off, momentarily. "What are you doing with the boys when you take them to Whistling Thorns?" "You may not take the children to Amboseli National Park tomorrow". "You could be traffiking the children." Lucas was outraged and admonished her for the suggestion, given my history with Nagolie and the children. "Do you think this is realistic?" She shrugged, as if to say: yes, possibly. "You do not respect authority" Vivian said, glaring at me. "Explain" Lucas demanded. "Helen has written formal reports against Simmie." This is the moment Vivian began referring to me in the third person. It was as if I wasn't in the room. "She buys only biscuits, she does not contribute to the children. She is westernizing the children. She comes and goes as she pleases. She. Doesn't. Give. The. Center. Money" Bingo. Just what I was waiting for, because it always comes down to this. "Nagolie doesn't have a bank account. Nor do they have management structure. There is no board. There is no constitution. There is no money. The people working there do not have CV's. They are not qualified. There is no electricity. There is no water." She ignored me. Didn't care. Lucas took over and told her to focus on the children, reminding her why we were there. He focused on the new environment for the children: "She forced them to say things are bad. She has filled their heads. No one has been here to complain". I wanted to say that it was Helen who told the kids they were moving, and it was Helen who took Grace to 'see her new home'. Vivian didn't care. She got up and fiddled around with her cell phone, took a call, answered a few texts, rearranged a pile of papers, and sat back down. Her indifference towards me was palpable. Her rudeness was simply mind boggling.
"What is the problem, here?" Lucas asked. Is it political, social? What is it? Give me the reason the children cannot move with with Simmie. Tell me, what is the hold up?" Vivian really had no answer, other than it was Agnes that started the home. "Simmie has no right to be at Nagolie. How do we know she is not molesting the boys? Where is your contract? It was cancelled, right " I was alarmed. Never mind that Ruth told me the home is government property. No one can be denied entry into any rescue center, unless there is reasonable cause. Helen had tried to establish reasonable cause, and Vivian took the bait. I imagine they came up with this scenario together. Vivian allowed this woman to vilify me, malign me and insinuate that I am a pedophile and sex trafficker. The odd thing is, neither of us have spoken a bad word to each other. I haven't seen Helen in 10 days, because she was avoiding me. Now I know why.
There was no interest from Vivian about the status of the home. No interest in the fact that the environment the children are living in is poor, out of code and unhealthy. No interest in the fact that these children want to move with Auntie Simmie. No interest in the fact that there is a history here, there is someone who wants to help the children and follow through on what I have started. No. The only way to counter any of these facts was to personally insult me and threaten me with the possibility of deportation. Thankfully, Lucas was there to intervene. Either way, it was alarming to be a part of this.
When Vivian decided the meeting was over, she collected her belongings and walked out. Lucas, Tony and I went outside behind her. I was shell shocked. Lucas appeared perplexed for a brief moment and then announced: we go to court. I was not so convinced. I told him I would touch base about the next move. I was in no mood to discuss court, and needed to process what had just happened.
In short, I was devastated by this meeting. It is difficult for me to articulate the mood of the room, the tone of Vivian and the insinuations and outright allegations directed at me. My integrity was violated. My character had been slammed and questioned. There was no proof of any of the swarming allegations, nor was there any valid reason for this onslaught. I was distraught and could barely speak with Tony, who was equally offended. For me.
We drove through Ngong, back towards Kiserian. I told Tony to pull over so that I could fill up his tank. Always grateful, he filled up and then said: "I want to take you to the family I told you about, the family that is in trouble". I perked up a bit at this, completely agreeable.. Tony had been called by a DO last week, asking if WWC could take in 3 rescues. He asked me, and I said 'Not yet. We are not ready". Here we were, 10 minutes later, in a neighborhood that made me blanche. The road was laced with mbati structures - old tin shacks, with a stream of sewerage running in front of each home. Children were playing in this liquid, with sticks, makeshift boats; some were washing clothes. The stench was unbearable. Donkeys were rummaging through garbage strewn through an abandoned parking area, along with mis-fit dogs and rodents. One's senses were offended; mine were on overload. We maneuvered our way through a dark, narrow and rocky path, one littered with hanging laundry, women cooking on coal stoves and children leaning against their mbati homes. An elderly gentleman came out to greet us, and we followed him into his one room home. There was no floor, only 2 small couches, a table and a small burner with a pot of boiling water on it. I never got the name of this man and his lovely wife; they did not speak English. This couple were in their late 70's, early 80's. They had recently lost two daughters. One daughter had a husband, the other was a widow. Between the two of them, they left their aging mother and father with 8 children. And no means to support them. Tony and I had each grabbed food to bring - he, 3 sacks of maize flour and me, 6 loaves of bread. We were genuinely welcomed.
The youngest of the 8 children:
Bus to Mombassa
We sat for about 10 minutes and we agreed to go back tomorrow morning so that we can meet the other 7 children. This meeting was what I needed. It made me contemplate my work here in Kenya, to contemplate the real reason I am here: to help. To help children, all children. No one deserves to live like this, in filth and desperation. These grandparents were desperate - burdened with the children of their deceased daughters. I could feel their shame, their desperation and their inability to provide food and necessities for their loved ones. Tony and I left and looked at each other. "Tony, thank you. This is what I needed. We must help this family and alleviate their burden". Tony smiled. Nothing more needed to be said.
No matter what the outcome of today, we must move forward. We cannot dwell on what did not happen. I have no idea how this is all going to turn out, because in Kenya, things can turn on a dime. In the meantime, we have a beautiful structure waiting for children. The need is tremendous, even in our tiny corner of this country. We are in a wonderful position to begin helping and reaching out to the community. We have to step up to the plate.
I will never abandon my children, the very children that have enabled me to get to the point I am at today. We very well may be able to take them in, who knows. The system is in a shambles, and my fight has been taken to the Ministry level in Nairobi, by a woman I met this past week. She sought me out, after hearing about Nagolie and the ongoing problems, violations of code and everything else wrong at the home. Many people are aware of what is going on, they are too frightened to speak out publicly. However, things in this department are starting to change. I have heard through the grapevine that the new Nagolie board did not agree with Helen's mission to have me removed from the home. 5 potential board members walked out of her meeting, in complete disagreement with Helen. Each had integrity, a rare commodity here, it seems. Consequently, there still is no formalized Nagolie Board, which is yet another egregious violation. These violations are continuing to pile up, but they cannot go on indefinitely.
A basic law of the universe: Bad attracts bad. Good attracts good. The truth of this premise is glaringly evident here in Kenya.
One door closes, another one opens.
It's been a long and exhausting day. I am wiped out, and need the sleep so that I can process what has transpired, and contemplate my strategy.
Good night from Kenya ~
With love,
Simmie and Lucy
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