Back to the Watoto: FURAHA NAYO!

My, oh my. Honestly, this was a remarkable trip. When I first got to WWC on April 9th, the kids were taken by surprise, because Tony, in his usual fashion, told the kids I was coming next year. After saying our usual hellos, accompanied by copious amounts of hugs, I began observing the children. They are bigger: taller and filled out. Some have developed rounder faces. Whether this is is due to puberty, adolescence, a well balanced diet or all of the above? I do not know. But what I see is the specimen of good health amongst our children. Long gone are fungal infections, malnourished bodies and gaunt looking faces. Not one child went to the doctor in the three months I was gone. The three children I have been concerned about have made remarkable progress. This progress is not due to the social worker; rather it is due to diet, increased comfort, shedding past trauma and the love and attention each child gets up under the roof of WWC. Tony plays a huge role here. Nothing gets by him in my absence. Hakuna. Tony remains my eyes, ears and voice. I owe him everything.

During my first few weeks, we played, had computer lessons, fooled around and went hunting on Sunday's with the older kids. This, despite leaving the compound, apparently abandoning 8 children, clutching on to the gate and peering through at us with the most forlorn expressions I have ever seen. "When you are in Class 3, you, too, may come along." They know this is the rule, and are fine with it, as soon as I turn my back. The older children really look forward to Sundays, to the point that they practically inhale their lunch after returning from church. Each time we went, the rains came, which added to the fun.

Rules. Rules had to be set over the swing set. This was a never ending source of amusement for me. We have fights now. Then again, we do have sets of siblings, so no shocker here. But the squabbling told me something a bit different: the kids are just so comfortable, they are at home. (The Nagolie kids rarely fought) Joshua and Thomas continue to impress on every level. They are gentle and kind leaders, worthy of every ounce of respect they get. When one has 10 children clammoring for attention, in my face with no room to breath, it can become overwhelming. "Auntie Simmie! Auntie Simmie!, Auntie Simmie!" Joshua or Thomas ushered them out or off of me with precise skill. They get a charge out of this, always laughing when they turn to look at me, plastered against a chair or wall. "GAI FAFA" I would say, never failing to produce peals of laughter from the kids. It simply means "Oh my Gosh", but Auntie Simmie is speaking Kikuyu, which they think is hilarious.

We had lots of visitors this trip, which is always a great thing. I am fairly strict about random visitors, however. Pastors, for instance. Pastors don't get a free ride at WWC. They are not welcome to come to the compound unannounced to preach to the children and consequently wait around for a free meal. Hapana. I've seen too much of this nonsense over the years and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know what they are after. That is one slippery slope. I stopped one (politely) just today, who appeared at the gate after church. "Please call ahead for a visit, the children are occupied today, and we have a staff meeting" I said, and gave him WWC's house phone. Tony was watching me, snickering. He knows how I feel about pastors, and shares my viewpoint. Pastors and politicians wreak havoc on Kenya, I bark at Tony. This always prompts a lengthy conversation between us while we are in the car. Tony relishes showing me homes of pastors in our region, roaring at my disgust. "Wacha, Tony. Melisa metosha." "Stop it, Tony, I've had enough". This just keeps him talking....Tony is a superb story teller, and he knows I delight in every single sentence. Some of my best moments in Kenya are spent in the passenger seat of Tony's car.

Speaking of cars, Solomon the Askari came to my room this morning to alert me about the flat tire on the WWC van. GAI. I wish Leslie and Patty had listened to the ensuing conversation on the van. They were both mock-horrified by my driving this thing - we took a little road trip to Ereteti so they could see the children's school. Patty was sitting in the middle of the back seat, videoing this scene with wide eyes while Leslie was laughing at the insanity of vehicles simply driving on any side on or off the road, passing on both sides, in order to avoid pot holes. There are no rules when it comes to pot holes...When in Rome....

Hopefully this comes through. If not, I will update it when I get home.

file:///Users/scissenberg1/Desktop/1-29.webloc

We are on track for CCI Registration. As is typically Kenyan, the process came to a screeching halt this morning. I knew it was coming, though. We had to hire an "auditor" to review our books. Code, you know. I put up a fight over the price, and Tony got him down only 10,000KES, but it's something. We first met last week and Tony and I sat with him for a bit, as I answered questions. I was deliberately vague, because I can be. You see, Vivienne the DCO forced my hand last year when she had me remove my name from the original documents we presented for approval. I was no longer Executive Director, no longer in any managerial position at WWC. "You are just a donor, nothing else." Those were her exact words. I signed of course, because I knew it was meaningless, it was simply a way of putting me in my place, and allowing these government wonks to save face. If I hadn't signed, the DCO threatened to have me deported.

Our books are impeccable. Everything is exactly as required by law, and then some. Monthly expenditures, signed wage receipts, signed releases from previous staff workers (so no sexual or other accusations can take hold) and the children's files are in tact. "You need an accountant" announced the auditor (James). "Sawa" I said, and deferred to Tony. "You do not have a manager" he said next. I looked at Tony and then James "Tony is the Manager." "But where are his wages in this packet? How much have you paid your Directors? There is nothing here." "Sijui. (I don't know). I am just a donor here." BOOM. Silence. I let the deadly silence take hold and finally broke it by asking "My concern is: are we in compliance according to law? We have been waiting for direction from the DCO. Every step of the way we are doing what we are directed to do. Is there anything you see that needs to be addressed?" "Landscaping". LANDSCAPING???? I held my tongue and said "Yes, we will get to this when we are through this process, which is taking a considerable hit on our budget. Right now I am concerned with priorities. My donors are getting irritated." James said: "You could have some chickens for income." Me: "Sawa. Did you see all the kuku outside?" We were miles ahead of this guy. As I got up to leave the office, I said " Let me not bother you anymore so you can do your work. Thank you." And here comes the kicker: " I want to go to America. I really do. Can you sponsor me?" Smiling, I said "Let's talk after we have CCI Registration in hand." I left Tony to explain why he volunteers for WWC, because he is "a businessman in Kiserian with two shops and makes a living" and went outside and sat down next to Leslie, giving her the lowdown. Her visible disgust was completely validating. Leslie is great that way. And her comments are even better. She gets it. Landscaping and chickens have nothing, zero, to do with this audit. Find something wrong with our books and we'll talk. His job is to present a report to the DCO. That's IT. Tony knows better than to pay this kijinga a shilling before he is done. He wanted half to begin the process. HAPANA.

This morning, Tony told me James is giving him a headache. "He wants to talk to you further about a few things, namely where your funds are coming from and why you do not pay the Board or me. And, he thinks you should pay the staff more." "Give him my number" I barked. Just a few moments ago, I finally got a phone call from James. "Pole, James, I am about to get on a plane to the US. I waited all day for your call, and now there is no time." "Oh, sorry, sorry. When will you be back in Kenya?" he asked. "Sijui. Labda Januari". Translated: I don't know. Maybe January. :-) As I said to Tony, once the mzungu is out of country, bribing is off the radar. And James does want to get to America. Just kidding, just kidding.

What James does not know and we DO know, is that Vivienne wants us to get CCI Registration now. In fact, she was at the home on Friday, and brought two rescues with her. Two boys, Jackson and Matthew. She is duly impressed. Tony reminded her that we are not accepting boys any longer, but this case was urgent and yes, temporary. Tony asked: Why do you not place these boys in Nagolie? Her answer? "I will not do that, Helen cannot provide for these boys, there is not enough food." Something tells me trouble is brewing there, but it's really no longer my concern. In any case, Jackson and Matthew are leaving Tuesday to another facility. I observed these boys yesterday and they are serious problems, exactly the kind of cases we do not accept. Unruly, disobedient and refusing to comply. Yes, they come from a serious situation, but to act so comfortably and defiantly from the get go is not a good sign. Behavioral problems are like a cancer in a Rescue Center. I'm having none of it.

I spent a lot of time speaking with professionals about a borehole for WWC. As previously mentioned, Mark from Ryan's Well Foundation has asked me to provide him with an estimate so that they can possibly assist with funding for this project. Mark was clear that there is no commitment here, but he would like to explore the possibility of a donation to WatotoWorld, Inc. Ryan's Well generally works on much larger scale projects - communities and schools, but he was intrigued by WWC. Thus, I have spoken with and commissioned a drilling company to give us an estimate for a bore hole. My contact is actually Ryan's Well Foundation's project manager's contact. Coincidence? I think not. I am literally on the edge of my seat over the prospect of a bore hole. I am awaiting a full report on the process and estimate, which should be coming to me this week. I will then forward this onto Ryan's Well Foundation.

The WatotoWorld Board is currently working on a gofundme project, to be launched soon. The purpose of this launch is to raise funds specifically for a bore hole. I am optimistic about the results, but realistic in that we will probably need to launch several efforts to reach our goal. The consultants on the ground in Kenya have all agreed that we are in good position to access water - the loose estimate is drilling about 120-150m down.

According to the WHO, a few facts: 358 million people in Africa lack access to water. Over 600,000 children under five years old die each year from diarrheal diseases globally. Additionally, there are three things MOST people in the world cannot do: get clean water from the tap, take a hot shower and flush a toilet. More people have a mobile phone than a toilet. Astonishing. There is much, much work to be done...

I am extremely excited about the direction we are continuing to head in! As we say in Kenya, pole pole. Slooow down. Atta mimi. (Even me). I must. I've often stated I don't have a creative bone in my body. Yet, when in Kenya, my brain won't stop. My Fitbit tells me I get on average of 4.5 hours of sleep a night - this after over a month of wearing the thing. It's true - I know, because it's when I think the clearest, there are no distractions. What I love about this middle of the night solo brainstorming is that it centers around my passion: WatotoWorld, WWC and...the children. Leslie, Patty and I were sitting on the stoop one day watching the children and they were awed. We all were. Patty was shaking her head, "I don't know how you do it " she said. Yes, it is a huge responsibility, a gift and blessing to me... and I love every second. To see 18 children running around joyfully, playing, laughing and GRATEFUL? There is really nothing like it. Having my friends with me was so utterly validating. Their enjoyment, amusement, wonder and love of the kids was an additional shot of adrenaline for me. Furaha NAYO! Happy, happy, happy.

As we departed the home this evening, Tony told me a little story: I gathered the children together for a meeting when Pauline and Faith were sacked. Catherine was crying. I asked her why and she said 'because Auntie Pauline is gone.' Never mind the caretakers. They work for you. Eric, are you crying? He said no. Why? Because the workers mean nothing to me. When Auntie Simmie leaves, I cry. Because she loves us and gives us food.

There were some tears this time. Then again, we had a month together. And yes, Eric held on for dear life. Eric and I have gotten close - there is no escaping this. He is a 10 year old boy with an amazing sense of humor and a distinct mischief in his eyes that I love. I don't call him Eric, I call him Mutura, which means 'intestines'. Boys, they love this kind of thing...now everyone calls him Mutura :-) Furaha nayo.

My staff are good and kind women. I have no delusions, but I'm always optimistic. Tony and I met with them before leaving and they voiced their needs and appreciation to have a job. There are two things you need to know about me, I told them: "Stealing and beating are unacceptable to me and the organization and cause for instant dismissal. There will be no second chances."

We work for the children. All of us.

A wonderful and productive month has come to a close. From somewhere over the African continent, I am headed home, back to my family. I really miss Peter, Emma, Cary and Tarak. How lucky am I that I am surrounded by family, friends and countless people who support me and this work?! I'll say it again: I don't know what I did to deserve such a remarkable life, but I am forever grateful and happy for it. Furaha nayo.

Asante marafiki. Angalia hivi karibuni.

Nawapenda wote,

Simmie, Rita and Josie