Hope for the future

Over the past few weeks, during my time here in Eastern Africa, I’ve met many incredible people and heard many inspiring stories of how individuals, families, communities and projects are rising up to, and often overcoming some very challenging situations. Hope for the future has been a recurrent theme, even when that means hanging on to a glimmer of hope in the darkest times.

For me, the challenge has been how to process some of these stories. The challenge of having a soft heart, and having a heart for these people, is that their stories can have a tendency to go inside. They aren’t just stories, they are personal encounters, they are real people, and I am finding that some of those individuals have gotten ‘under my skin’, and their situations are really playing on my mind. Three in particular come to mind:

Firstly, there is L – a lass in her early 20’s, who is a refugee caring for her two younger siblings. She saw her parents murdered by the rebels, and she held her baby sister, who was just breastfeeding at the time, as the infant died in her arms due to malnutrition. L looked at me, with world-weary eyes and said ‘What should I do? I just hope for some small money to start a small business so that I can get enough to buy food and clothes and send my siblings to school’. What should my response be? Do I explore finding a way to help her? Sadly there are so many more like L – I can’t help them all, but what to do about the one whom God laid in my path?

Then, there is J – a young mother, who was 16 at the time of her first pregnancy, had to leave school, and by the age of 25 had 4 children under the age of 9, including 2-year-old twins. In the space of 2 weeks whilst I've been here, both the twins have died of undiagnosed illness. Not surprisingly J is devastated. I’ve met J and her children on several occasions on past visits, and her loss has felt very real, very painful, and goes round in my mind. What should my response be? Beyond praying, is there something else I can do? Do I explore finding a way to help her move forwards, to help her find hope again? She’s unskilled, living in very poor rented accommodation ie one room, and struggling to get by. She’s grieving, and yet has two young sons to care for. Sadly there are so many more like J – I can’t help them all, but what to do about the one whom God laid in my path?

The third individual is B, a 14-year-old lad who I’ve known since he was about 6. He lives in Acholi Quarters with his grandmother, and 3 younger siblings. Through CRED, he and his sister (age 11) have been supported through mainstream education for several years now, and this B graduated from primary school and has just embarked on his secondary education. In the national primary leavers exams, B came top of his school which is testament to the work ethic that he has. He loves maths, and has now offered to assist 15 of his peers in their maths studies through giving 2 hours of maths tuition to the group on a Saturday afternoon. He really is a remarkable lad, and has huge potential.

However, when I was chatting with him last weekend, he shared with me some of the burdens that he carries on his 14-yr old shoulders. He was telling me that his granny isn’t very well, and needs an inhaler to help her lungs. However, she will often not use her inhaler as she doesn’t want it to run out as this would cause her to have to find money to buy a new one. In granny’s mind, that money would be better spent on trying to put the younger two grandchildren through school, because unless she achieves that, apparently she feels that she won’t have done the best by them that she could do. B is very worried about granny, and he admitted that sometimes he finds himself distracted at school because he starts wondering if she is OK, and what will happen when she isn’t there anymore.

B also told me about his small part-time job that he has, standing guard over a water tap, and taking 500 shillings from each person who comes to fill up their jerry can. 500 shillings is about 12.5p. Some days he can make 3000 – 4000 shillings (75p - £1) but other days it is less, and he finds it very demoralising to be spending so much time making so little money. He wishes he could have a better job, but he says its hard to find work anyway, and particularly when he is trying to fit it in around school and family requirements.

B clearly feels very burdened by the responsibilities that he has as oldest man in the house, and he fills every hour outside of school either trying to earn money, or studying hard. I asked him how was the best way to try and help his granny and his family. His answer was instant – ‘I hope that somehow my two younger brothers can be helped to go to school, then granny will feel happy, and she’ll feel OK about taking her medication. That will help her stay alive’.

As with the examples of O and J, I find myself wondering – what should my response be to B’s situation? There are so many others like him, so many families like his, living precariously, struggling to get by. I know I can’t help them all, but God has laid these few across my path, God has given me insight into their lives, their struggles, their hopes and dreams.

Do I look at them like the father in the starfish story, and think ‘the problem is too huge’, or do I look at them like the child in the same story, and find ways to help one, and then another, and then another. Do I let my heart become hardened against the enormity of it all? Or do I live with the pain that is felt by a soft heart, but knowing that through that pain, I am probably more open to God’s nudging’s and guiding to possibilities and action.

I pray that I will have a soft heart, that it won’t be hardened. And I pray that solutions will be found for O, J and B, and all those like them. Maybe those solutions will in part come through me, but Lord, may the solutions be found, and may each of these precious individuals find hope for the future.