Kibera and Spurgeons in Advent

Kibera – home to millions

Kibera – a barrage on the senses

Poverty, laughter, hunger, generosity, happiness, sadness, community, vulnerability

All intertwined through an infinite number of threads

Threads of all shapes and sizes

Joining together

Crossing over

Lifting each other up

Encouraging each other along

Kibera – home to millions

Kibera – a full-senses experience of humanity

It rained all night and much of the morning,

The day I visited Kibera

The pathways – all mud, no tarmac – were slick and moving underfoot

The colour – was it mud, or was it worse?

Don’t think too hard about the ‘flying toilets’ and how many are being stepped on

The dwellings – walls are made of sheet metal, held together by rust

While other walls are made of mud, held together by the plastic waste within them

Roofs of metal – held down by rocks, and shoes, and sacks of dirt

With buckets placed carefully to catch the drips,

Whilst the children sleep on the floor

Huddled together for warmth

Need to spend a penny?

Hang on ‘til its light – there are no street lamps out there to guide you safely through the maze of alleyways

Or pee in a bag and throw it into the ‘streets’

Want to wash clothes?

Collect some water from the roof – it’s free, and you don’t need to walk ages to fill a basin from the nearest tap

And amidst all this sits Spurgeons Academy

Spurgeons Academy -

A beacon of hope for the pupils

A place of love, of safety, of shelter

A place to come and play,

Where there is room to ‘swing a cat’

Where there is space to be indoors while the rain falls outside

A place where it’s OK to be, even in the school holidays

Spurgeons Academy -

A beacon of hope for the community

A place where it’s OK to dream of a better future

Where there is help, and advice, and support

A place where education is seen as important for all, no matter what your income

Spurgeons Academy

A place where the staff turn up in the school holidays if they know that there are children wanting to take refuge in the loving arms of the school, and to seek some quiet and gentle shelter within the peace of the place

Whilst hustle and bustle churns without

Where no-one is demanding of you

Where it’s OK to be a child, and to just hang out with your friends.

Spurgeons Academy

Where no problem is too great

And no problem too small

A place where every child matters,

And every aspect of every child matters

If Mary and Joseph had turned up at Kibera, looking for a place to stay

They might have been turned away from some of the homes

‘No room,

The children are sleeping

The roof is leaking,

The walls are falling down’

But they certainly wouldn’t have been turned away from Spurgeons Academy

There would have been ‘room in the inn’ for them there.

The welcome would have been great

The arms opened wide

And a safe place would have been made for all

Just like it is today.

Harriet from Acholi - prayers answered!!

Well, that was an impressively quick answer to prayers!

No sooner is the request sent out, than Harriet goes into labour, and within a couple of hours the baby is born weighing 4.98kg.

Harriet never actually made it to the hospital, but did get seen this morning by the midwife at the local clinic in Acholi Quarters, which is where she is spending a few hours before returning home. Theoretically she is resting!!!!

So, thank you for your prayers, and praise God for His provision and love!

A few photos, including one that shows the clinic - and the surroundings!

Harriet from Acholi - requesting your prayers

This is Harriet, our wonderful friend from Acholi who acts as social worker, family liaison, fixer of quandaries, coordinator of the children and ladies when team trips happen, and all round incredible lady. 

Yesterday I visited Acholi Quarters, and whilst there spent some time with her. As you can see she is heavily pregnant, in fact she is 18 days overdue. 

She asked me to pray for her and the baby - that it will come soon, and also for me to ask my friends to pray for her - which is what I am doing. 

So if you are of a praying nature please pray for Harriet and the baby - For a quick and easy birth, and soon. Apparently the baby has been reckoned to be 10+lb already 

Unfortunately in this country of no NHS she will have to pay to have the birth induced, and she doesn’t have the money which is why she is trying to wait it out. It costs £60 to be induced, or £100 if she ends up having a C-section. 

I asked what happens if she goes into labour and has complications requiring medical assistance but doesn't have the means to pay - she laughed nervously and said they leave you to die until you do pay.
I’m not sure if that is the truth, but it shows the added worries she has. 

Today I am going to offer to accompany her to hospital for a check up and see what the medical staff say - I have no idea what the outcome will be, but am trusting in God for it all: friendly medical staff, a low-cost outcome, provision for all the needs, and most of all a healthy Harriet and baby

So this is a request for prayer. Despite everything she still laughs, and looks out for everyone else, and was so relieved when I said I would ask my friends to pray. 

Thanks

Umuganda, Wirira and a few other randoms from Rwanda

The final Saturday of the month in Rwanda is always Umuganda day. This is a day when the whole country stops, and everyone joins with others in their neighbourhood to do community work. It might be street cleaning, or painting a building, or rebuilding the home of a community member in need, or any one of a seemingly endless list of possible tasks that the community leader might have arranged.

It takes place in the morning, and such is the officialness of it, that it is illegal to be on the streets between 0900 and 1100 unless your role is related to Umuganda, or specifically permitted by the authorities.

But, all details aside, the important thing is that everyone does it, together, as community. And as a result community cohesion is strong, people know their neighbours, people feel supported, loneliness is lower, and the community looks a little more loved and cared for than it might otherwise.

The Umuganda Saturdays were one of the ideas implemented by the government after the genocide. Before that, Umuganda was a concept but more random in nature and on an ‘as and when’ approach at the behest of individual communities.

Post-genocide, the focus was on building strong united communities, and Umuganda was seen as a tool that could be used to that end. Chatting with Rwandans about it whilst we have been here, they certainly all attest to the success of that aim. Whether it is older folk who survived the genocide, or returned refugees who escaped the genocide, or young people who were born post genocide – they all agree that Umuganda is a wonderful part of Rwandan life, and that as a result of it they know their neighbours much better than they might otherwise and enjoy the feeling of working together for a common cause.

Another aspect of Rwanda that never ceases to impress me – well actually render me speechless with awe – is how much they have been able to forgive and move on from the genocide. It is truly remarkable.

According to those I have chatted to, this comes from the top – the President, and those in power, have led by example on the forgiveness front. They have got rid of any paperwork that would give any indication as to which group a person was from pre-genocide. So whether a person hails from Tutsi, Hutu or Twa is now lost in the annals of time – today they are all Rwandans together, equal in their status, united in their hopes for a brighter tomorrow, and learning from the lessons of the past.

As a result, when someone applies for a job – they get it on merit, not biased by what part they played in the genocide. Yes there are still people being tried for genocide-related crimes, but those people aside, when it comes to employment, education, access to health etc – everyone is united in their Rwandan identity, and everyone has an equal chance.

Today, we met with a co-operative of genocide widows who have named themselves the Wirira Group. Wirira means ‘dry your tears’ in Kinyarwandan, and the group, 45 in size, is made of ladies who were all widowed during the genocide. Many of them also saw their children being slaughtered, some were raped, some were badly attacked in other physical ways. They all still bear the scars – some physical and very visible, many emotional and psychological, but together they support each other and help each other to move a little further along the healing journey.

One lady said today how ‘we are all still weeping inside, and sometimes we weep outside, but now we have each other to lean on, and we don’t feel so alone’. She went on to say how they are looking forwards to the future together, and how being together in the group gives them the ability to look forward with hope, rather than always backward with despair.

One of the projects that they are doing together is a chicken-rearing project, raising the chickens, selling the eggs, and using the money for small-scale loans within the group. They showed us round with pride and spoke with optimism about the difference that this project would make.

As I sat and watched and listened to them speaking, I reflected on whether, deep-down inside they have really been able to do the forgiving that everyone says has happened. They certainly haven’t forgotten, and I’ve heard from others that trust is now a big issue with the older generation, as the genocide was so much a case of neighbours, friends and even family members suddenly turning on each other. Not surprising that those who were so harmed now find it hard to trust.

But have they truly forgiven the perpetrators? I don’t know, and who am I to question what is going on in their hearts and minds? If they have forgiven, as the public image likes to imply: well that is absolutely amazing, and totally inspiring, and I admire them all the more. If they aren’t there yet, well given the horrors that they went through, and the massive void that has been left in each of their lives – I imagine I’d be on the struggling end of the spectrum in those circumstances.

Another side-aspect of the genocide that I hadn’t heard about on previous visits to Rwanda is the impact it is having on the younger generation. Chatting to two girls today who are in their late teens / early twenties ie just post-genocide, they were saying how much their generation is struggling with mental health issues related to the genocide. It’s mainly around fear of how what has happened in the past could so easily happen again, if the wrong people with the wrong philosophies get into power. They hear so much about the genocide, and the horrors of it, and how it came into being, that they also struggle with knowing who to trust – because of how their parents were so badly let down.

And given that most of their parents will have some post-genocide pain buried somewhere deep inside, even if forgiveness has taken place – the younger generation don’t always feel able to talk about their concerns for fear of upsetting life for the older ones

Thankfully it seems as though their concerns are being heard – and apparently there are moves to take the post-genocide focus down a notch or two, and instead increase further the opportunities for collaborative activities and for equality and empowerment, as well as putting support systems in place to ensure those that need to offload can do so.

So, there you go - a bit of a ramble through some bits and bobs of conversations I’ve been having over here in Rwanda. It is a remarkable country in many ways: a place of natural beauty, of beautiful people, and of a seemingly beautiful vision going forwards. Yes it has its issues – what country doesn’t! But this nation does seem to be united in its striving to create a better world for the next generation, and to actually learn from its past, and ensure that, within Rwanda, they can truly say ‘never again’.

Inside a Rwandan Juvenile Detention Centre

Today was another first for me, and for all CRED Team Trips, as we visited the Nyagatare Juvenile Detention Centre, which CRED partner GNPDR has links with through its prison chaplaincy programme.

It was a fascinating and very insightful visit and I came away very impressed with the input and support that the prison staff give to the young offenders

The JDC has 410 inmates of which 22 are girls and 388 boys. Of the girls 3 are on appeal and therefore wear a pink dress. The other 19 girls have been sentenced and wear orange.
The boys are also in pink if on appeal (27 of them) and in orange if sentenced. 
The three most common categories of crimes that they are in there for are theft, drugs and rape. 
Ages are 14-20 years, and sentences range from 3 months through to several years. 

There were a number of aspects of the visit that impressed me. I’ve never been into this kind of institution before, whether in Uk or abroad, so some of this might be standard, but even so I was impressed

The first thing was the level of provision of academic and vocational training opportunities. Every young person that is in the JDC spends a large chunk of each day in the classroom. This might be an academic classroom of the same grade as they were at when convicted.

Or, for young offenders with a sentence of less than one year, they instead do one or more short vocational courses, with a certificate of competence at the end of it

The vocational options are carpentry, welding, tailoring, hair styling, and basic construction/ architecture. As the tutors showed us round it was clear that they really know their stuff and strive to ensure that the young people get the best training that they can in order to have better chances of a lawful means of income generation on release

The classroom teachers are all qualified teachers and the students still get the opportunity to sit their national exams. Indeed if a young person passes their national S3 exam, their sentence is nullified so that they can be released from the JDC to attend tertiary education- now there’s an incentive to study hard!

Another aspect I was struck by was that the tutors, on the whole, were themselves prisoners who had been identified from other prisons and brought to the JDC in order to use their skills to train the young people

The JDC has 60 adult prisoners of which 55 are serving time for genocide related crimes. Before the genocide they had gained and were using professional skills and it is good to see that part of their rehabilitation is in being given the opportunity to use these skills again

In so doing they gain some self-respect, they make better use of their time inside, and they give of themselves to others in an effort to improve the prospects of the young people. I think it’s a clear sign of a progressive, forgiving, forward looking nation that they have found this way to utilise the skills of the prisoners

I was really impressed with the attitude of the prison staff as well. For them their work is clearly a calling and not just a 9-5. They care about the young people, and want the best for them. One guard is a qualified architect who has given up his professional career to work in the JDC as a tutor in the vocational centre, and as a general guard as well. That’s quite a career change and evidence of a selfless servant heart

All in all it was a really impressive visit. Certainly lots to think about, but their massive focus on rehabilitation of the offender and preparation for life on release means that the reoffending rate is very low, and a leading example of good practice on the international stage. 

After a visit to Kigali Genocide Museum

Last year around this time I was in Israel and Palestine, meeting residents on both sides of the divide, and also visiting the Jewish Holocaust museum in Jerusalem

The museum was harrowing to go round, but rightly so - what the Jews went through in the holocaust was far far far worse. 

And at the end of it the underlying sentiment was ‘never again’. Never again a genocide, never again trying to annihilate a people group or an ethnicity or a religion. 

Today I went to the Genocide Memorial museum in Kigali. Harrowing once again. The words, the images, the stories, the artefacts that all combined to tell of the 100 days in 1994 when Rwanda was changed forever. When Hutus tried in every appalling way to rid their country of Tutsi’s

And at the end of the museum was a section that mentioned other genocides that have happened since World War 2. The Balkans, Cambodia, Treblinska. 

And of course still it goes on - the Rohinga people, Yemen ......

So much for 'never again'. 

I came out weeping inside; asking myself ‘when will we ever learn?’; wondering how can humans get to the point where they somehow feel that they can justify killing each other, mutilating and torturing each other, treating each other like very less than a fellow human being?

And I came out wondering what am I supposed to do with this knowledge? Several answers to that - from personal response, impacting how i treat others and what my attitude to others is, through to sharing the experience to prompt thought in others

So that’s what this is. I’m still processing the museum for myself, but this is a brief note to you, the reader, to take from it what you will, to be prompted and nudged as you will, and to do with it what you will

May my simple words help in some small way to make the world a better place, through me, and through you. 

Namutamba Rehabilitation Centre – standing up for, and standing with, those with disabilities

21km from Mityana township, and about 5km from the Nkuru Business and Vocational Training College that John Njendhayo has built and set up, in the heart of rural Uganda, lies the Namutamba Rehabilitation Centre (NRC), a rehab centre with vision.

NRC’s focus is providing a range of medical and para-medical inputs for children living with disabilities, and despite the predominantly low-tech resources, plus negligible government support, they really are achieving great things.

The staff team comprises a nurse, a physio, a primary teacher, someone with occupational therapy experience, two matrons (one day, one night) and a number of ancillary and admin-related staff.

The children come from all over Mityana district, and are predominantly too poor to pay for their treatment. But this isn’t a deterrent to the staff – they treat every child to their best ability for the medical and associated needs that the child has, and they trust and pray that the money will come in from donors to pay for it – and it does! Such faith.

Chatting with the staff, I was asking about the types of diagnoses that the children have that come to NRC, and also the obstacles that the staff face in reaching the children in the first place. Their responses were not that surprising but at the same time it was sad to hear just what a massive mountain each of the children have to climb, for no reason of their own.

The main diagnosis that NRC deals with is osteomyletis – a bacterial bone infection (I think) that can lead to destruction of the bone, deformity, awful pus-filled wounds that don’t heal, and associated infections as a result of all the above. Apparently by the time the child is brought to the Centre for treatment they have usually had the osteomyelitis for a long time, been seen by several witch-doctors, been ostracized by the community because of their suppurating, stinking wounds, and been hidden away as no-one wants to know them.

Other diagnoses include talipes, cleft-lip, cerebral palsy and hydrocephalus. Nothing unusual there, but what was noticeable was the lack of resources to deal with the psychological scarring that so many of the children are trying to cope with. The Centre staff know that this is an area that they aren’t very well-equipped in, which is good, and they’d like to get better skilled in being able to deal with this side of things, but seeing that, and the small range of orthotics, walking aids and other appliances, it was a big reminder of just how massive is the gap between health care for the have’s and have-not’s: both at an individual level within country, and at an international level between rich and poor countries.

The list of obstacles that the children have to overcome, with their parents on their side if they are lucky, are similar to those found in many countries around the world:

·      Stigma associated with the disability

·      Children being hidden away from the public eye, out of shame, and also out of fear of what the repercussions might be from others, due to the range of myths and mistruths associated with disability

·      A common belief that disability is the fault of the parents - a punishment for past wrong-doings

·      Parents who disown their child, for a range of reasons, all of which are very sad and can relate to the survival of the rest of the family, remarriage and non-acceptance by the new spouse, poverty…..

·      Community disowns the family

·      Witchcraft which is often the first port of call for treatment of the child, and which in itself can lead to a lot of extra problems, as well resulting in an acute diagnosis becoming chronic and much harder to treat.

NRC is planning not just to continue to provide incredible services to the children in its care, but also to expand its services to include giving attention to the psychosocial side of things, as well as parent support groups, and increasing and ongoing community activities to break down the myths and mistruths associated with disability.

With my ex-physio head on, and my recent insights gained as a JIGSAW Thornbury Trustee, I can safely say that their plans are no small ask by any standard; but in faith the team are moving forwards towards their dreams, and I wish them all the best.