The World is Broken

I know I have mentioned having access to a car when I go on home visits, but in rural Kenya a car only gets a person so far. We find ourselves driving down paths barely as wide as the vehicle before we eventually park and simply take off on foot. Usually it is just a short journey (10 – 30 minute) to the client’s home. The walk can be down red dirt paths, through pastures, up hills, across a river or a rock climb like the one we did today – the top half of it is pictured above.

There were two things that amazed me about this path. The first was how beautiful the small community was that I found at the peak of it. I think it is my favorite spot in Kenya so far. The second is that the grandfather we went to visit at the peak, who is the guardian to ten of his grandchildren after his own children’s death, climbs up and down this path on a daily basis – at age 94! The grandfather is HIV+ and I was told that he has never missed an appointment at the clinic, even though once he is down the rock path it is a long walk (30+ minutes normal pace) to the main road to catch a matatu. (For those of you who haven’t been to Kenya, it is a taxi of sorts for multiple people -- think clown car at the circus and you will get an idea of the less than comfy accommodations. Those how have been here and have had the pleasure of traveling by matatu know that description really does not sum up the experience.)

While we were out today, we passed a large group of people sitting along the roadside in their Sunday finery. The social worker I was with recognized a friend in the group and stopped to chat. It seems the man who lived in the home closest to where they were sitting had been killed this morning by a careless matatu driver. The man’s friends and neighbors where waiting in the side ditch for his family to bring the body home so that they could pay their respects. The group was calm and chatting as if they were simply waiting for a matatu to stop by and pick them up. Yes, a man’s life was taken unexpectedly but in so many ways it is just an ordinary day here.

We continued on visit the home of the first client I had met in the clinic this morning. She is a single mother with a child of her own and is raising two younger siblings who came in seeking food assistance. She had given us conflicting information during the assessment so we wanted to stop by her home and what additional information we could learn. We found out from a neighbor that the woman and children often went without food and that the children had not eaten for two days. The neighbor helped them out whenever she could but she had been in an accident that required medical attention and depleted all additional resources she had.

Since tomorrow is a Kenyan holiday and we knew they would not be able to pick up the food at the distribution center we swung by the school to get the two boys and take them into the clinic to expedited the process. All of the children were at recess and were thrilled to see a car approaching. Once they saw the mzungu inside they could hardly contain their excitement. When I got out of the car the children quickly surrounded me --simply wanting me to shake their hand. As soon as one small hand would slip out of mine another would replace it. I am sure at one point I was surround by close to a hundred children. Unfortunately, one of their teachers thought they were bothering me and started shooing them off with a cane not understanding that I would have happily stayed there and shook every eager hand. Instead as soon as she cleared a path she quickly ushered us into the headmaster’s office.

The headmaster was not happy when the social worker asked to take the children out of school for one hour. He was insistent that she tell him the reason why, but she held her ground and did not disclose. It was easy to see that since he knew we came from the health clinic he thought it was something much worse than food security. As I turned to leave his office I saw a damaged globe lying discarded in the corner. I couldn’t help but think that is was the perfect metaphor for our time – the world is broken.