Tony came to get me at 11:30, and off we went to WWC. It's very dry here right now, so the grasses are short, brown and the ground is parched. This time of year, before the short rains settle in, the scenery appears to be more in focus. I could make out the home from quite a distance, which thrilled me. WWC stands beautifully, in the middle of a vast piece of undeveloped land. I looked at Tony and said: You must be so proud. He grinned from ear to ear.
Pauline came out to greet me. I couldn't contain myself when I saw Pauline, but neither could she. It was a wonderful reunion for both of us. She was so proud to show me every inch of the home and compound. There wasn't a shred of trash to be seen; every bed was made with hospital corners. I could have eaten off the floor of the kitchen, and the dining/communal area is pristine and welcoming. There was not one foul smell. Freshly washed laundry was drying in the breeze, on clothes lines with real clothes pins. The office was organized and in tact. The bathroom was as a bathroom should be: impeccible and clean. Suffice it to say, this is a first. In six years, I never once used the 'bathroom' at Nagolie. Not once.
Pauline and Tony
Watoto World Center! This took my breath away!
The girl's room. There are 8.
For our three boys, who sleep on 2 bunks:
From the left: Beatrice (laundry), Pauline, Tony, our cook (can't pronounce or spell her name just yet) and Peter, the watchman who lives in the hut below.
The kitchen, the nicest one I have seen in ANY rescue center!
This jiko was a tremendous investment. We use two medium stacks of wood a week for fuel. It is efficient and fast. Pauline told me she puts water in a sufria (large pot) before going to bed. In the morning, the water is still warm enough to bathe the children. There is no smoke, and no subsequent tears associated with smoke!!
The window below the tv is used to serve meals to the children. No more waiting outside in inclement weather!
The kitchen/dining area, now known as 'Hope's Kitchen'
Tony planted mziwa (sugar cane) for the children:
The office
One of the many things I love about Pauline is her organization. She is highly structured and very disciplined. She understands the plight of orphans and has vast experience in counseling. One thing she does not tolerate is rudeness and a lack of discipline. She is loving and firm, and insists on time tables and schedules. Everything flows as it should with Pauline, because she commands respect and gets it.
This is one of Pauline's time tables. Everything happens at the same time - in fact, I was still at the home at 5:30 today, and Pauline told me it was time for me to either get cooking or whatever else I had to do, because it was time for her to bathe the children. I had to laugh - so, Tony and I said good night to everyone and headed back to Whistling Thorns.
Unfortunately, this time table is not too clear, but it leaves little room for disagreement and provides the children with the discipline and routine that they (all children!) need.
The bouganvilla has been planted around the entire compound. Once the rains hit, the flowers will take off. This time next year, the fence that surrounds the property will be fully green with these beautiful flowers everywhere in sight.
Beatrice was hired to do the laundry. Another first. These children are all too young to be doing their own.
Tony and I left the home to go to the Rock. I was so excited to see my children, but consumed with how I would tell them that they would not be moving into WWC. This meeting went just as expected, but no amount of preparation on my part could have prepared me for the heartbreak I was left with. Janet, Moses and Linet saw me first. They flew out of the school yard, followed by Mturi, Gideon and Kanini. One by one all the little children came out. After all our hugs, kisses and hello's, the children all told me they were hungry. The school is not providing food, they haven't since the teacher's strike back in July. This means my kids have gone without lunch every single day since. It is exam time right now, and their bellies are hungry. Their shirts were in tatters, and their black sweaters full of holes. Here they were feeling down, looking worse, and I had to tell them that I was no longer able to come to the home. In fact, part of our agreement last month was I could come as often as I wished, but Helen decided to change the rules last night, knowing that I would be in Kenya shortly. I told the children this. I told them the truth in the most gentle manner I possibly could. More children gathered to listen. "I love each of you with all my heart. I am no longer welcome at Nagolie, which means I must not violate this, because there will be serious consequences. But this does not mean I cannot see you here at school each day. It does not mean that I am leaving you and will forget you. It does not mean that I do not carry you in my heart every single day of my life. We must all be brave and keep the love we have for one another alive, because it will give each of us the strength we need. You are all my family, and I love each of you with everything I have. I am so very sorry that the new home did not work out for us, together." I watched 10 faces crumble before me. Each child had his and her head down, silently crying. It was all I could do to keep from breaking down as I hugged each of them and told them how much I love them. What really ripped my heart apart was the fact that they understood. They understood this situation is out of my control. They understood why it was happening, and who is responsible. And then Moreen said: "We all love you, Auntie Simmie. You are our mum. You always will be."
The resiliency of these children has always amazed me. Today was no exception, really, but the love I felt for each of them was overwhelmingly powerful. Here were the children I have taken care of for 6 years, understanding why the powers that be had changed the rules on us. They understand their culture, the corruption and the fact that those who watch over them do so for the wrong reasons. They have far more maturity than the adults in charge. But their level of acceptance about these things and their awareness of their role in Kenyan society is what really breaks my heart. After staying with the children for an hour or so, I left devastated, wondering how we can effect change in a country so mired in corruption, with such little respect for children and women, in general. I felt empty and helpless.
Tony and I drove up the hill to see my friend Jane, who runs the small private school 1km from WWC. 9 of the 11 children go to Jane's school, which has swelled to 89 children in 4 years. The kids were all running around on break, and I knew immediately which ones belonged to WWC, because they ran towards Tony's car as soon as they saw him. They all knew who I was, so when I got out of the car, I sat down immediately to learn their names and begin the process of getting to know them. Within three seconds, three children were angling for a spot on my lap, while the rest were leaning into and on me. English is not widely spoken (yet). So the onus is on me to perfect my Kiswahli :-)
This is Peter, affectionately referred to as Pastor Peter. He really made me laugh - he is expressive, very wise and complex. His eyes say it all. Peter is 9 years old.
This is Peter's sister, Mary. She is 10. Mary and Peter's mother died earlier this year, after a long illness that kept her bedridden for eight years. Mary was late to enter school, because she stayed with her mother, taking care of her. Once she passed, the grandmother was unable to care for the children. Both are in dire need of care and protection.
This is Eric, who has joined us, with his sister Eunice. Eric is 10 and Eunice is 12. This afternoon, Tony and I spoke about taking in their baby sister Michelle. We are going to visit their grandparents tomorrow, to discuss this option. Michelle is 1 1/2.
Josephine is 4. She and her sister Catherine (on my lap in the final picture below) also lost their mother this year. They have 5 siblings. According to their files, the father took off after it was discovered he "defiled and impregnated one of his daughters. She is now out school so she can stay and take care of her baby. The oldest brother has dropped out of Form 2 to take care of his siblings.
Esther is on the right, she is 8 years old. She and her sister Ritah were living with their elderly diabetic grandfather that could not cope. Their mother is an addict and has gone AWOL.
I have confused the two girls on the left, unfortunately, but will have more information tomorrow. Mary is on the right.
Denis
All in all, the day went just as expected. So much sadness, coupled with so much love, hope and joy. It is going to take time for me to process much of the sadness, because of the magnitude of it all. I do not share the ability to simply pick up and move on from the Nagolie children, as many Kenyans have advised me to do. It is simply not in me. That said, this day was an incredible eye opener for me. For the first time, I recognize the value of taking these new children in for the time we are allotted: 3 years. We have 3 years to give these children everything we can: love, protection, security and a foundation for the future. Our jobs are cut out for us; the need here in Kenya is so vast. There are too many children needing protection and care, and not enough homes to provide this for them. I looked around at WWC today and felt an enormous sense of pride, accomplishment and so much optimism for the future. I have learned a great deal in the process, and am confident of one thing: we will make WWC a shining example of what a rescue center should be. There will be problems along the way of course, but we will get through them. I have come too far, am extremely determined and have truly learned from my mistakes. Onwards and upwards.
Good night from Kenya. It has been a long day and I am wiped out!
Nakupenda ~
Simmie and the kids
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