January 16, 2024
I have been waiting on the end of this story and today I can tell you there is a happy ending. A few weeks ago Kim had gone out to check on five little kids who were living in a house by themselves with no adults. Iaisha, the biggest at ten, was taking care of her four siblings in a shack with no water, bathroom, kitchen or electricity.
“I’m not leaving here without them, Kim said. I don’t care if the police arrest me for kidnapping. These kids are coming with me. That is what I said and I meant it.
When I looked in those five little faces, I could see the loss, the abandonment. The oldest, Iaisha stares at the floor and mumbles “Mama comes every few days, mostly at night, with some shillings for us.” I can see it is just enough for a small bit of corn flour but surely not enough for all five of them.
Since Iaisha is the oldest at 10, she has been taking care of her brothers and sister. Her eyes are dark circles, weary as if she has lived too much life for her young years. She is made to clean the landlord’s house to pay the rent for their own tiny square of concrete floor. Then Iiasha goes in search of food for her little family. No point in looking for Mom to help, she has long since learned Mom doesn’t care.
The normal laughter of little children is eerily silent in this dirty hollow place. There is no light to show the sunken cheeks of hungry children. All thought of play is consumed by need, need for food, need for water, need for shelter. When they were given some bread and peanut butter, it was stolen by the landlord. So they sat, huddled together this little band of five waiting for nothing as they had come to expect.
There are no tears as we load them in the car. No one in the alleyway to say bye or have a good life, just nothing. Anywhere is better than here. They take nothing with them. There is nothing to take. I cried, all the adults cried, even the seasoned social worker cried.
Today I sit listening to giggles and squeals of these five children playing on the swings. The little band of five are all washed and fed and most of all safe and loved here at Neema Village. But what to do with them now, I wonder, we are a baby home and only take babies two and under? But for Iaisha, the little momma, I know we must keep her little family together.
Above at Neema, probably their first meal where “more” was an option.
Kim continues, “I could see each child was beginning to hope again. There is light in their eyes. It’s easier for the little ones. One year old Mo reaches for a hug. Four year old Amina gives a sweet smile and six year old Godbless is quick to laugh. It’s the two older ones, eight year old Shariff and our little mama Iaisha, who are more reserved. It’s hard to trust when you’ve never had someone to trust. But the light of hope is lit. I see a corner of a smile as I push her on the swing. Oh, what a sweet sight. I begin to cry again.”
Today they have a new mom, a new home a new school and three new brothers.
Mama Aneth, on the left, is one of our MAP moms. She was abandoned after her husband wanted to bring a second wife into the home. She said no, so he kicked her and her son out. Last week we found a nice big home to rent for her, her son and the five kids along with Meshack and Ema. We have also hired an Auntie to help her.
Thanks Cliff for putting their new beds together. The children have had no schooling to speak of but they are now in one of the better English schools in the Arusha district. Ashley brought some school supplies. They don’t have toys, books or enough furniture in the house but we bought a regular gas stove with four burners to help with the cooking.
For now it is enough to see the smiles and hear the laughter of happy children.
It is the Moment of Lift for these five. They have a chance now, education, food and God will make all the difference for them. This is your money at work in Africa. I wish we could give this moment to every child living without parents, under bridges, or on the streets but for now it is enough. We helped five today. Bless you for standing in the gap with us for them.
Michael and Dorris Fortson