Maybe...

His face was tough. I smiled. He looked briefly away. His face turned back to mine. I smiled again. This time he let his mouth briefly widen into a smile before he looked back towards the floor. I extended my arm and said “Wimwega? Witagwa atia?”  (Hi, how are you? What is your name?). He glanced at me, looked away and said nothing. I repeated my question. He smiled shyly outreached his hand to mine and said “Joseph”. I then introduced myself: “Thengui muno, Joseph, Jitagwa..Sarah Waithera” (Thank you so much, Jospeh- My name is Sarah Waithera)...to which his tiny little face broke into a rupture of laughter. A sense of achievement for me! To see this face and this child instantly change his mind about me. J The conversation then followed that I knew ‘Hanini Kikuyu’ (a little Kikuyu). The conversation was precious. I will never forget it...or that innocent little face.

I was fortunate enough to spend most of the day with Seth, a friend I met in 2011, at AFCIC- Action For Children in Conflict. This is a wonderful organisation running in Thika, caring for and advocating for the rights of street kids. They have a care centre in town, which children at counselled and rehabilitated as the social workers try to integrate the children back with their family members or another caregiver. There is also another place where children who are currently living on the streets are free to come during the day to wash their clothes, take a bath and eat some lunch. They also have classes which the children can attend to learn basic English, training programs and important life skills, such as an awareness of HIV and how one contracts it.

This day was so inspiring, and amazing to watch and listen to these boys as they spoke in Kikuyu. I understood parts of what they were saying and Seth was kind enough to fill me in on the parts which I missed. I watched as the staff had a meeting with the boys. Kids ranging between 7ish and 18ish. The meeting was to see where the boys were from and why they are on the streets. It was also a meeting to see how the centre could better support their lives. For once in their lives...I saw freedom in the faces of these boys. They were free to share their worries. Free to share their fears of the streets. Free to share their needs. Free to share what they know about life. What a blessing that is for these boys.

In Thika I see these kids often, in large groups congregating outside the supermarkets all over town. There are often too many kids to count. They are usually begging for food, or for a few shillings to buy their next fix of glue. They come right up to you and ask for what they need or want. After spending some more time with these kids today I know that I should indeed take a few minutes to talk more with them when I meet them on the streets and guide them to visit AFCIC for help. They are indeed just children. They are dirty, have scars and cuts, in torn clothes, shoe-less and are quite often under the influence of drugs or glue.  

I choose to look at these children as Jesus would. HIS. Loved- beyond measure and in need of care and protection. “When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” Mat 9: 36. It is a choice one can freely make. I am so grateful for organisations and people who are going the extra mile to show these kids that they are worthy. Worthy of a life better than that on the streets. I also think...what if that was me in that position? What would I want others to do for me?   

What a blessing it was as I shared a day outside in the sun and dust with these boys. Playing darts and soccer and them teasing me in Kikuyu. They have taught me a lot...even though they would have no idea of this. I see them...and all I can see are so many opportunities for their lives. Opportunities for them to choose life, to choose the right way and to choose to turn from the streets. I also see my ability to be an influence in their lives (however small that influence may be). At the end of the day I asked a boy- 18 years old what he wanted to be in life...He said “A doctor”. I told him that everything is possible, if he puts his mind to it. I shared that he would have to get off the streets and go back to school and study really hard for many years. He said ‘Maybe’...! My thought is that ‘maybe’ is better than ‘asha’ (no!). Maybe...just maybe he may treat me in years to come. I am praying for him and them all. As I go to bed tonight, I think of them, awake and constantly in fear for their safety on the streets of town. It’s a cold night. I hope they are warm and somewhere safe.