One of the churches that recievd aid

The red soil is sun scorched and as light as air. Even the slightest wind ruffles it up. It settles on everything like brown dew. The few thorn trees and brushes stretch out their skeletal limbs up to the big African sky as if begging for water from the empty white clouds.

The small grey church looks out of place. A lone stone structure for miles around, it’s fairly new and the iron sheets shimmer and twinkle with a metallic shine only dulled by the red dust that has formed a thin film over it.

Dozens of old rusty bikes are stacked up under a tree by the church in which just over 200 people- mostly women and young girls are singing boisterously. The unusual church gathering on a Wednesday afternoon has been caused by a four-car convoy stacked with food, seeds and farming equipment that is just pulling up outside the church.

The Christian Mission Aid (CMA) team jumps out of the cars that have left clouds of dust in their wake, and after exchanging quick greetings with the locals, the team eagerly starts unpacking food from the vehicles and shoving  it into brand new buckets. These are food buckets. This is relief food aid for residents of Masamba- located in eastern Kenya. The peasant farmers here haven’t had a decent crop harvest since 2006. Drought and starvation have become part of everyday life. Each sunrise marks another day of new struggles for survival against a harsh climate and a hard reality.

Pastor Stephen Muli Kaeke looks on as the CMA team fills up 200 buckets with assorted food stuffs. There is a smile on his face and hope in his eyes. “You have remembered us!” He says jovially to Jacob Auma, CMA’s Programs manager in Maasai land. They are old friends, having met in Bible college over 20 years ago. Both continue to serve people in some of the most remote parts of the country.

Congregation line up to receive aid

“We now have hope that we can fight hunger for a little longer.  We are so grateful for the seeds of maize and cow peas and the farming equipment you have given us. At the first sign of rain, we will clear our farms with these new pangas (machetes) and till our land with these new Jembes (hoes) and hopefully God will allow us to harvest next year!” Pastor Stephen adds with a little optimism in his voice. The women clap and ululate in agreement. Today, buckets have brought joy to this village.

She is short and dark and her emaciated frame is painful to look at. Her dress hangs loosely on her skinny shoulders exposing her jutting collar bones. She is standing outside her crumbling house with four of her five children and a grand daughter. They are all wearing tattered clothing, including the one and a half year old infant she is holding in her arms. Yet, she has an almost permanent smile on her face. Her name is Elizabeth Nyaboke, a 33 year old widow that we are visiting in the remote parts of Rongo District in Nyanza Province.

Elizabeth with her HIV positive son, Kevin

Elizabeth is HIV positive. Her husband died in 2001 from the disease but at the time, neither of them suspected they had contracted the killer virus. None of them had ever gone for testing. So Elizabeth picked up the broken pieces of her shattered life and lived ignorantly of the fact that she had the killer virus flowing through her body.  She found out that she was positive during her antenatal checkups.  Unfortunately her baby was born with the dreaded disease.

Today the bubbly and lively boy is also living positively with the virus. Little Kevin has been on ARV’s most of his life.

Every day is a bitter struggle for Elizabeth against her disease, baby Kevin’s ill health, and against the ravages of poverty that threaten the education of her children. Elizabeth has to single handedly feed herself and six hungry mouths her oldest daughter, Salome, has an 8 month old baby. Salome, who is 18 years old, nursed her baby, Steve, for three months before returning to high school. She is in her 3^rdyear of her secondary school education.

Elizabeth and her family outside their house

Elizabeth is industrious and last year, she tried farming sunflower seeds to supplement her income after she heard that the cash crop had a handsome monetary reward, but she is yet to find a market for her sack of sunflower seeds which she recently harvested.

Elizabeth decided to lease her farm out a few weeks ago and use the money to pay off a portion of the high   school fees her daughter owes the school. Salome was however back home after only two weeks due to the high deficit she still owes the school. She is now at home, her education looking very uncertain.

The widow’s 14 year old son, Peter Okong’o, who was absent during our visit had left early that Saturday morning to go labor on other people’s farms. “Peter buys his own school books; He works on the weekends weeding peoples farms because he knows I can’t afford them.” Elizabeth says painfully.

CLEAR volunteers visit the cheerful widow every few weeks to check up on her and Aphline, the CLEAR programs coordinator has high praise for the widow. “Elizabeth is very positive and unlike many other clients we have, she is keen to take her anti-retroviral drugs and also make s sure Kevin gets his dozes too.”  During a previous visit, they had found her sick with malaria and given her the necessary drugs. She has made a full recovery. “I am really grateful to CMA, through CLEAR for caring for me and visiting me. Their counseling and their medicine is what has kept me alive for so long. God bless you!” Elizabeth says.

One of CMA's anti-natal patients

When Nyalup Jel, 36, was brought into the Darjo clinic in April this year, I could tell that she had labored for very long. She writhed in pain from the makeshift stretcher where she lay. Her husband and six male neighbors had carried her from their home in Gambella Village, a whole four hours’ walk from the CMA clinic.

It turned out that Nyalup, who had not attended any anti-natal care clinics, had labored for nearly 24 hours. The traditional birth attendants were unable to handle her case. Physical examination revealed that she was expecting twins. The unborn babies’ heart rates were faint and too fast. They lay in a very complicated position. Not head-down, but head to the side of the womb. (Cephalic presentation as it is called medically.)

This was Nyalup’s fourth pregnancy. Her three other children had also accompanied her to the clinic. Like their father and the area chief, they waited expectantly for the birth. Obviously they did not know their mother was expecting twins. “Please do all that you can to help my wife. I hate to see her in this state,” her husband said many times.

We needed to deliver Nyalup as quickly as possible. Hers was not the first delayed delivery case we were attending to. Maternal Health Care Services are still a challenge in South Sudan. According to the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA), South Sudan has the world’s worst rates of maternal death: 2,054 per 100,000 pregnancies. This is because of ignorance, over-reliance in traditional birth attendants who have little or no education on birth, among other issues.

Every time Nyalup had a contraction, we saw two infant heads competing to come out of their mother’s womb. This put her tired body in more pain. We explained to Nyalup that we had to make an episiotomy (a cut in the birth opening) to make room for the babies to come out. She objected but her husband intervened. We reassured her that we would do a repair that would return her body back to normal.

When she eventually delivered two hours later, an air of mixed reaction met the still bodies of her baby girls. They had unsuccessfully struggled to come out alive. One of them had the umbilical cord tightly around her foot.

Mutai, a CMA medical staff, examines a child in Dajo, South Sudan

Nyalup’s husband, the chief, the men and children who had brought her to the clinic broke into ululations, dance and song, while we, the medical team wore solemn looks. We were confused.  “Thank you for saving my wife,” her husband said, tears streaming down his face. The message was short and clear.

After passing our message of condolence, we took the opportunity to educate the people about the importance of attending ante and post natal clinics. We also stressed the importance of delivering at a medical center where complications could be easily detected and attended to.

“Had we been attending to Nyalup at this clinic, we probably would have noticed early enough that the babies were lying in a complicated position. Maybe we would have saved all three lives,” I said as the men nodded vigorously. I believe they understood the message.

CMA, with the support of  donors like OFDA and Common Humanitarian Fund (CHF) – Canada, works in line with the special work plan of the government of South Sudan to reduce maternal mortality. Had we a more intensive program that includes a labor ward, and training for midwives, we would be able to prevent numerous maternal and new-born deaths in our clinics.

The greatest challenges we face are human resource, awareness building through village outreaches, and availability of medical supplies. Because it is not a direct health threat, reproductive health is still relegated by many families to the background.

Tardoi on the far right and her mother holding Tardio's younger sister

It is an emotional afternoon for Josephine Tardoi. For two and a half years, the 14-year- old has not  seen or heard from her family. This afternoon, her mother,  grandmother and one of her siblings, are visiting, yet Tardoi is crying. She is overjoyed. Her mother, Ngeseni, cannot help it either, and so, tears flow freely as the four embrace and catch up.

Tardoi  lives at our Girls’ Rescue Centre (GRC)in Kajiado District, with 31 other girls we have rescued from some of the cruelest practices metted out on girls from certain Kenyan communities. Had we not rescued her, in 2009, she probably would have become  a wife or a mother by now. She has escaped early forced marriage twice, since she was only eight years old.

Thanks to her mother, who from experience, knows the negative impact of early marriage, Tardoi ended up with us. She is in grade six at a nearby school and performs quite well. Tardoi, like the other girls in our care, loves education and dreams big. She hopes to become a nurse one day to take care of the health challenges in her community. Her favourite subjects are CRE (Christian Religious Education) and Science. A talented singer, Tardoi is also a choir member at the nearby  Dominion Church.

This is one of the dorms where the gir's sleep in.

Education has changed her a lot. Tardoi’s proud mother is amazed at just how much her daughter’s personal hygiene and mannerism has improved. “ Tardoi has grown and changed so much, she has learnt a lot too! Look, she, even eats with a spoon!” she says repeatedly. “She is like a mzungu (white person)!”  Ngeseni adds jokingly.

Tardoi’s community, the Maasai, are a nomadic group of people whose lifestyles revolve around marriage and cattle raising. Education remains a non-priority. Girls as young as six usually get married off, especially during drought, in exchange for cows – wealth for the family. Literacy among the Maasai remains very low, particularly amongst women, as poverty escalates due to the community’s inability to cope well with contemporary lifestyles.

Through the GRC, and other projects CMA targets at the community, CMA is slowly changing the attitudes  of the Maasai towards girls’ education. We are grateful to Christ Community Church, Colorado, and all the friends and partners of the GRC who have partnered with us to give these girls an education. Through your help, many young girls face a better future.

You too can help. Partner with us to rescue a girl from early marriage; domestic violence; gender based discrimination  and poverty. Keep a girl in school by sending your donation through the following address: http://www.cmaid.org/donate-now/

View related stories on the following links:

http://www.cmaid.org/i-want-to-learn/

http://www.cmaid.org/no-school-its-end-month/

http://www.cmaid.org/cma-giving-hope-and-a-future-to-abandoned-girls/

http://www.cmaid.org/a-dream-flourishing-in-the-desert/

Jacob addressing the girls at an assembly

Ada in front of her home

I now believe that God cares and speaks to us. He does not necessarily do it through thunder and lightning, but He does speak. In my case, God has spoken through Christian Mission Aid (CMA) and Temple Baptist Church, Dakota, USA. This is my testimony.

I was a dejected woman in 2009. I had lost all hope in life. My husband had died, leaving me with three children, a dilapidated house, no income and failing health. I was destined for the grave.

CMA and its visitors from the USA, who were visiting my home area in Rongo, Kenya, found me in this state of hopelessness. I was too embarrassed to speak to the clean and healthy looking visitors. Embarrassment was my lot. Living as an AIDS widow in my community is not easy. The stigma is too much. Your own people view you as an outcast that is not fit to live in society. For this reason, I could not approach them for bread, leave alone medical or housing help. I watched my children face death. I found myself joining society in blaming my late husband and I for what had befallen my family. That is why I was in shame when these guests visited me.

I soon discovered that they were not like my own people. They carried my children and prayed with us. I saw a few of them shedding tears – for my children and I. That day they left me with a small bag of foodstuff and promised to visit again. They did. They built me a house with a toilet and a bathroom outside. They also bought me a tank that collects rain water from my roof.

Because of the prayers and support from these great friends, I am full of health and hope today. I run a charcoal business and my children are growing up healthy and are safely in school. Most of my physical and spiritual needs are well taken care of, and I am assured of a friendship that transcends distance, my friendship with CMA and Temple Baptist Church.

However, life as a widow continues to haunt me. In my community, there is an unspoken omen that hangs around the head of a widow. To men, she is available for their lustful advances, while to women she is the threat that hangs around their marriages. A widow is also not given any responsibilities or leadership roles. She is viewed as incapable, merely because of the absence of her husband. We widows have no protectors. Secretly, we are viewed as in some way responsible for our husband’s death. The grief that we experience is not just the sadness of bereavement, but the loss of our position in the family, abandonment, destitution and dishonor. We are lonely.

Ada, still going strong with her children

But I have hope that enables me face each day. I’m determined to make a good life for my children, and live long enough to see them grow up. The help I received to make the first step makes me believe that I can complete the journey one step at a time. Through CMA and Temple Baptist Church, I have seen God’s faithfulness in my life. I am a widow with hope.

It’s the dry heat that hit me first. Then I noticed the dust. The red soil was light and dusty, quickly carried about by the wind. It flew all over the place; covering buildings and leaves and grass blades. It was on the toes of the barefoot children walking back from school. My throat felt itchy and dry, and my skin burnt from the heat. Perspiration trickled from every pore in my body. That was my welcome to Nyanza Province.

Our vehicle driving across a drying river bed

Nyanza was hot. It was not just hot, but overwhelmingly hot. It made me lazy and sleepy. This was my first actual visit to Nyanza. I usually just drove through the territory in a bus when headed to see my grandmother further west. Drought is almost a perennial problem in Kenya and it’s definitely in Nyanza this year. Most of the grass is withered and brown. Women and children are walking with water containers on their heads- off to search for the precious commodity at boreholes, water pumps and whatever rivers are yet to completely dry up. Life in rural Africa is the same everywhere. It’s a daily struggle to survive. You can see it on the faces of the passers by.

I was in a car with two colleagues from CMA’s Nairobi office, having been driving for several hours, and we were just approaching the lake side city of Kisumu. I noticed how slow paced everything seemed to be. Even the livestock and their herders walking by the side of the road seemed to be taking it easy. I guess you can’t be in a big hurry when the sun is blazing like that. It started to get more humid as we drove deeper into the city because of Lake Victoria.

I was on a five night stay in Nyanza, visiting CMA’s programs and compiling a few reports. After a hot and uncomfortable night, we started our day’s activities. Our first and second stops were in primary schools, to check up on the Solar Disinfection (SODIS) of water program-a brain child of The Water School. SODIS is a water purification method that entails putting water in plastic bottles and exposing them to sunlight for about eight hours. This renders the water safe for drinking since the powerful rays of the sun kill all the germs and micro-organisms present in the water.

The SODIS program was introduced in Nyanza in 2009 with prime targets being schools. The project aims at reducing cases of water borne diseases among pupils. The diseases usually cause students to miss classes and therefore lag behind or even drop out of school. The program has been very successful in Nyanza with many locals embracing it in their homes.
After introductions and interviews with the head teacher and the SODIS patron at the school, to get an update on the SODIS initiative, I stepped out of the office to find children playing and drinking water from their SODIS bottles. When I pulled out my camera, the kids became even more excited and started posing, hoping I would single them out for a picture! So I took a few. I learnt that the pupils are required to take sips of the disinfected water during every school recess to prevent dehydration. Each child has two SODIS water bottles assigned to them with their initials on the bottle tops.

Pupils taking a 'water break'

When I got back into the car and as we drove off, I was hit by the irony of life. Despite the poverty and struggles that most rural folk face, they seem to posses a certain joy and contentment with life- they seem to shrug at the problems and just live one day at a time. It’s beautiful to witness. It reminds you that life is not about things-but people and relationships. Most rural folk definitely have love and community figured out!

Over the next few days we visit homes of widows and HIV/AIDS patients to find out how the CLEAR (Community Leaders Educated AIDS Response) program is impacting their lives. CLEAR is a CMA project that aims to help build communal capacities to battle the scourges of HIV/AIDS. These efforts include; education and awareness on HIV/AIDS, guiding and counseling, referrals to health facilities, Home based care, distribution of multi-vitamins and other drugs for fighting opportunistic infections, building of special houses dubbed- Units of Hope for Widows and helping widows acquire a better quality of life through income generating activities.
As I listen to people narrate their harrowing experiences and their difficult predicaments in life, I feel overwhelmed at times. Some of the patients have lost several members of their families to the scourge, many children have been orphaned and their future looks bleak. Others can’t even afford one proper meal a day despite their desperate need for nutrition due to their weakened immunity from the deadly virus. There is so much pain out there, yet the spirit of hope is stronger.

Their resolve to survive another day is audacious.

A HIV-AIDS widow with her son who is also HIV+

There are so many organizations like CMA, working tirelessly every day to help alleviate the pain and suffering of tens of thousands in Africa. But these efforts feel like drops in the ocean. The need never goes away; the numbers never seem to go down. Should we despair and throw our hand s up? No! God forbid it! If I was reminded of anything during this trip, it is this- Keep Hope alive. Maybe the sun won’t be so hot tomorrow-maybe the rains will come….just maybe!

Agro-forstry in practice in Naro Moru School.

Larry and Jacob met back in 1989, when CMA was only three years old, and Jacob, was a young man, oozing with zeal to reclaim the dry lands of Kajiado, and neighboring Machakos District. Larry saw the passion Jacob had for the environment and the two got into a working relationship. Today, many-years later, CMA has become a household name in the areas, not only for proving that trees could survive in a virtual wasteland, but also for bringing many people to follow and worship Christ as Lord.

Student of Naro Moru School where STEP has been implemented

Tomatoes growing in a small garden in Naro Moru School

Teachers who have been patrons of the program over the years have ensured continuity even as they get transferred to new locations. CMA does follow-ups to encourage them. I was inspired by Jacob’s pursuit of ensuring the Maasai in Kajiado become stewards of the land God gave them.

Teaching people to be good stewards of God’s gifts is a great lesson; and I can’t help but marvel at the other great work God is doing through CMA. Millions of people in Kenya, South Sudan and Uganda continue to see God’s goodness through 25 years of CMA’s remarkable work in Christian Outreach; provision of healthcare services, water and sanitation; restoration of peace; and enhancement of livelihoods. It is indeed a great honor to be a part of CMA, witnessing lives being transformed through the empowerment of communities. I can only compare it to having a front row seat to the debut of a long-awaited thriller.

There is an air of excitement in the small church, but it isn’t really audible. Despite there being about 150 adults in the room, all you can hear is the chatter of about a dozen kids and the periodic babble and cry of a handful of babies! So, why are the adults quietly excited, why are they not loud, you may ask? Well, you see, it’s a church for the deaf!
Despite there being very little audible sounds from the adults, their hands are moving furiously and their faces are animated as they catch up on news with each other before the Sunday service begins.

This is no ordinary Sunday service though; it’s a celebratory church service. Emmanuel Church for the Deaf, Ikinu, Kiambu in Kenya, is holding its first anniversary since the church building was erected last year. Not only is the celebration about the new building, but it’s the miracle that the building symbolizes. You see, this church is the first deaf owned church structure in the country’s history!
The deaf congregation views this as a miracle. Surely, only God could have built this house! What with poverty levels among the deaf being so high-they could never have afforded to put up their own church building.
Joseph Ogolla, CMA’s Deaf Ministry coordinator is also the church

CMA’s Deaf Ministry coordinator and Emmanuel Church of the Deaf, Ikinu, leader, Joseph Ogolla leading the service

Pastor Ken preaching through a deaf interpreter

Pastor Ken feeds a deaf congregant,Salome,some cake while Ogolla looks on

John Ngigi (red t-shirt) and a Sudanese medical trainee preparing Kala-azar injections while patients wait for treatment

It was a little chilly when I woke up but I was too excited to be bothered. The previous night had been spent packing up bags and suitcases for my long anticipated trip to Sudan. Yes! I was flying into South Sudan. We had to be at the Wilson airport on time to catch the 8:30AM flight, so I was upbeat and quick. I was eager to travel into another country, ready for an adventure.  This was going to be my first time in Sudan and boy was I excited!

As the small chartered Mission Aviation Frontiers (MAF) Plane taxied on the runway, I looked out the window, the sun was out, radiant and bright, and there were no clouds in the sky, a perfect day for flying. I started thinking about our destination.

South Sudan had just voted in a referendum seeking to secede from their bitter enemies- Northern Sudan. There had been decades of war between the Arabs from the North and the native Sudanese people in the South. But now, results from the polling stations had started trickling in and they seemed to suggest that the South was overwhelmingly voting for independence. We weren’t sure what was going to transpire. Would the North respect the choice of the South or would the referendum spark off another wave of violence? There had already been several incidences of attacks, before and during the voting. I wasn’t sure what it was going to be like for me and my colleagues who were flying in to work at CMA run medical camps in Juaibor and Keew, Jonglei State. Images from reports I had previously watched on TV flashed through my head. I thought of the men, women and children who suffered from poverty and disease caused by forces beyond their control. I closed my eyes and said a little prayer- asking God to grant the war-torn country peace.

We had a brief stopover in Lokichogio Airstrip, which is right at the border of Kenya and South Sudan. Four of my colleagues disembarked and went onto a MAF caravan that was headed for Keew, while three others remained with me on the plane to Juaibor. After a brief security check and refueling, our plane was back in the sky, crossing into South Sudan.

We touched down in Juaibor at exactly 12:45PM. The remote town has only a handful of small shops.  It was hot and the air was unbearably dry. Average temperatures here range between 40-50 degrees centigrade. South Sudan is mostly plain, with no rolling hills or valleys. I hear it floods badly during the rainy season. There are also quite a number of swamps that are connected to the great River Nile which runs through both Southern and Northern Sudan.

As we disembarked from the plane, we could sense an air of jubilation and triumph among the locals. They were counting on a clear majority win in the vote for independence from the Muslim north.  Hope of self rule and development was intoxicating. All seemed to be going well.

Kala-azar patients listening to a health talk outside the Clinic before getting treated

My first day at work was interesting. Being a foreigner (Kawai ), the obvious challenge was the language barrier and the culture shock. My job as a nurse trainer involves helping empower locals with nursing skills that include; disease diagnosis, treatments and prevention. It was exciting to help treat the 400 patients who showed up at the camp for medical help that day. We first had a general health education talk with the patients in the open before we started seeing individuals inside the Primary Health Care Centre. Most of the patients were suffering from Kala-azar, a deadly tropical disease spread from the bite of the sandfly.

It’s been just over three months since I first landed here and I am getting used to the heat and slowly adjusting to the less comfortable lifestyle that I was used to in Kenya. I will be here till the end of June. I now share the hopes and aspirations of the Sudanese people. I eagerly wait to witness the country’s new dawn. We anticipate a new and stable government. Join us in praying for God’s wisdom and grace to protect the people of Sudan as they start a new journey.

Children at Enkereyian Primary School

No one imagined that our short, impromptu trip to Enkereyian Primary School would be nothing short of a miracle. We arrived at the school at about noon, a time that each of the pupils usually gather in the school’s make-shift dining area to collect a plate of steaming hot food. On this day, with hunger written all over their faces, the few children left in school lazily milled around our car, curious to see what had brought about our visit. There was no trace of the usual cheerfulness and vigor of children their age. There was no food.

Just a day earlier, the pupils had consumed the little food stuff that had been left at the store, leaving them with nothing to eat till June, when the World Food Program (WFP) usually sends an annual food consignment to the school. Enkereiyan Primary School is located deep in Kenya’s Rift Valley, more than 60 kilometers from Nairobi, and about 23 kilometers down a bumpy road from the nearest town. Children walk for up to seven Kilometers to get to school, some of them arriving at 5AM to start the day’s activities.

The school compound looked dry and dusty. There was no trace of the little rain that had poured two days earlier, as it had already been absorbed into the thirsty earth. Because of hunger, half the pupils had already stopped attending school, reducing the school’s population to a mere 100 pupils. “My pupils told me not to come back to school until I find food,” says Maina, the head teacher of the school, upon learning that we had brought a small consignment of foodstuff. “God is so faithful, He answered their prayer immediately and sent you here,” he adds with genuine faith.

As the stronger looking boys helped offload the food we had brought, faces of the other children brightened up, evidently encouraged by our gesture of love. Perhaps they were going to eat lunch after all. Our visit was a miracle. Although the food may not last them till June, it will keep them going for a little while, restoring the children’s hope and will to continue attending school.

Steve Mwangi of Children Ministry handing out relief food

Christian Mission Aid works with drought prone communities such as the Maasai in Kajiado, to bring emergency relief. “The dry season has caused a lot of hardships within communities. Cows are now thin and cannot produce enough milk,” CMA’s Manager for Kajiado Programs, Jacob Auma, says. The relief food WFP provides to the school once a year encourages children to attend school. However, once food stocks are depleted, the attendance rate goes down tremendously as children cannot walk for miles on empty stomachs. Besides the hunger, water is scarce in this region, forcing the largely pastoralist community to shift during drought, to areas near water sources.