My Sponsor Wiped My Mother's Tears Away

My Quiver? I would love one like this...these kids in Capetown blessed my heart. I love kids!

The moment I was sponsored through Compassion at age 8, I became aware that I was bigger than poverty. Poverty was a situation, a condition, but I was a life. All I needed were positive messages of hope to grow out of it.

It is the relationships that sponsorship promotes through letter writing, not so much the money, that ends poverty. Think about it this way: A child runs to a parent for protection not because he sees the parent carrying weapons but because the parent has fostered a relationship that assures the child of protection. In the same way, a starving child approaches the mother for food even when he can clearly see there is no food in the hands of the mother. This is a relationship that foster confidence and absolute trust.

The first sponsor letter empowered me. I heard him tell my 8-year-old heart that 'There is nothing impossible with the God I am telling you about'. It reminded me of a story I heard many times growing up — that the angel Gabriel was sent by God to Nazareth, saying to the virgin Mary:

 “Greetings favored one! The Lord is with you.”

I remember myself at that age wondering how God was going to release me from poverty. While at the thought,  my sponsor sends another letter saying that he is praying for me and encouraging me to work hard in school and to trust in God. At times poverty threatened and lied to me that life is impossible, but my sponsor would write to me and say:

“Jimmy, it doesn’t matter what you are going through, for nothing will be impossible with God."

The constant message of hope germinated, and I believed him like he was a messenger from God.

A candle was lit inside of me and I started believing in the dreams of my childhood. The circumstances didn’t matter: I believed I was bigger than poverty. In no time, I began seeing myself as the savior of my community from the oppressor; this grinding poverty. I became a joy to my mother. She loved listening to my positive messages. I became her favorite preacher. It satisfies me to remember the many times I made my mother forget her struggles, pain and suffering.

My sponsor restored my mother’s joy. Within a year of sponsorship, I could read the Bible that I had received from the Child Development Centre. I read her all my favorite childhood memory verses in English. Many nights she asked me to read her the Bible and then she would pray and we would go to bed a happy mother and a hopeful child. Some of those nights we went to bed on an empty stomach. On such nights, unable to sleep from hunger, I would hear my mother crying to God to let me live another day. In my innocence I would ask her why she was crying. She would reply:

“Because I can hear the rumbling in your stomach.”

I would assure her that I would make it to the morning. That was the strength my sponsor put in my heart — to be there for my mother. The resileince lives on today.

At her deathbed, my mother called me to her and shared her joy for having been my mother. She encouraged me to live a life of loving people just as my sponsor loved me. Then she bid me goodbye with the most visionary words:

“My son, I see you succeeding in life but I do not see myself sharing the success with you. Trust in God.”

A few months later, I received the sad news that my mother was no more. She had left my grandmother a gift for me: her Bible. From her Bible I quoted Jeremiah 29:11 to my sponsor when I wrote to break the sad news. In his reply, my sponsor Mark wrote:

“I am sorry to hear about the death of your mother. I cried when I read your letter. It was great to read your scripture reference – Jeremiah 29:11 — because I also believe that God has good plans for you. I shall continue to pray for you.”

I celebrate my sponsorship with Compassion because through the relationship with my sponsor, I caught the fire of hope. Sponsorship puts hope in the hearts of children and in return these children serve the rest of the world with that hope.

My mother died in hope, satisfied that she bore a son of hope; a hope she believed will survive and be taken to the ends of the earth to the glory of God.

Can Christians Change Politics?

Student Politics in the University taught me a great deal of lessons about Christianity and ballot leadership. I realized that ideals and ethics are important in politics as norms, but seldom effective as techniques. The successful politician is an artist. He is concerned with the nuances of public mood, approximation of operative motives, guesswork as to the tactics of his opponents and the back-breaking work of unifying his own side by compromise and concession.

Whatever your ends, you must be clear-eyed and unsentimental in your labors and you must rest your power ultimately on a cohesive principle. This was my resolve in joining students’ politics in my junior year at Egerton University. Resting my conscience on the firm belief in servant leadership based upon the teaching of Jesus Christ; I set my campaign platform ready.

I shared my passion for politics with Christians and their wise words helped shape my perspective on the position of God in politics and success. “You may use crafty means to win the elections but what will you gain if it ends up bringing disgrace”, one respected spiritual brother remarked.

The church leadership allayed its fears to those affiliated and counseled us about our conduct during the campaigns. They said our conduct at the end of the exercise would determine the state of the church and our personal integrity.

I prayed and asked God to lead me. I was not going to declare my candidature if He wasn’t going to be with me. I declared my candidature with a clear conscience and promised to put character ahead of ambition. I campaigned promising to do my utmost in meeting the needs of students and assured them I will conduct myself in a manner they will be willing to accept me back.

Just like national politics in Kenya, University politics tend to be ethnically inclined. People congregate into tribal cocoons and nominate tribal chieftains to represent their interests. It was a delicate balance to keep as a Christian in politics.

Politics is a game of numbers, tact and resources, often laced with violence. With such extreme options, ones religious and moral persuasion is considerably challenged. It was not easy to run for an elective position as a Christian with a better percentage of the electorate either non-Christians or non-practicing Christians. One is always tempted to stoop low and engage in damaging political propaganda but character is more important than fame.

Election Day came and we voted. I survived many threats but my faith was unshakable. Unfortunately, the results were not coming the way some wanted and the vote counting exercise was marred by violence following rigging allegations and the polls were nullified.

Two years later, in 2007, inspired by my experience I wanted to give a shot to national politics. I had a tough decision to make between quitting my Job at Compassion International Country office and running for politics. At the time I worked as a Child Survival Program Communication Assistant. I travelled the country capturing and articulating children needs to highlight their plight and bring international attention for intervention. I could not abandon these children for politics.

After a period of prayer, God led me to a young man we co-owned a fruit business. He was a humble man who asked me to partner with him in selling fruits to the community. The community trusted us for our honesty and hard work. National elections were coming up in a few months and I asked him if he could run for an elective position as a councilor. A councilor represents a ward and works under the office of the City mayor. This young man had little hope because he felt politics belongs to the resourced and those from political dynasties.

I took him through the community, showed him the needs of the people. His identity with the needs enabled him catch the vision. I drafted his manifesto and came up with ten-point plan as our campaign pledges.

The church supported us with prayers and some members helped resource our campaigns. Today, Enoch Muviku is the Councilor of KMC ward in Mavoko Municipality serving a five year term that expires in 2012 when we shall have the next General Elections in Kenya. He is diligently serving the community.

Yes, politics is a dirty game but we can sanitize it. If Christians spoke with convincing authority, people may actually listen. I am glad that God has allowed me to live long enough to ignite passion among young people and develop them to be decision makers.

It all started with one act. Someone rescued the dreams I live today from the trash cans. He successfully rescued my life through a sponsorship with Compassion International and today I have a dream for my country.

You can rescue a dream too.

Child of Sorrow



Chatting with Haitian street children outside the collapsed presidential palace following the January 2010 earthquake that killed more than 200, 000 people.

Louis Pasteur once said,

"When I approach a child, he inspires in me two sentiments: tenderness for what he is and respect for what he may become."

A friend recently shared a story of two boys who grew up in the same neighborhood but fate found them in two entirely different places when the January 12, 2010 earthquake hit Haiti. One was languishing in prison paying for his crimes while the other was helping communities respond to the earthquake; he was helping with the vulnerable children of Haiti. What brought this darkness and light difference? Find out.

I shall call the boy in prison Kara and the other other one Abbel. Kara and Abbel were born in abject poverty lacking in food, water, medical care, clothing and education. As they grew up, the two boys were inseparable. They played together, walked together and sometimes got into trouble together. One day, Abbel received help from a good Samaritan and went on to get education. The help was not enough for his friend too. Kara roamed the streets, never went to school and out of desperation engaged in criminal activities. By the time Abbel was in the University working on his bachelor's degree in commerce, Kara had been arrested for robbery with violence and put behind bars.

On the hour of the earthquake Abbel left his office, where he worked with an International Humanitarian body in Port-au-Prince, to attend to some business at a local bank. Immediately he received the cash from the bank teller, the building started shaking. He rain out in panic and standing outside, under the high-tension cable, the 35 seconds earthquake left untold loss of life and property. He survived the earthquake and immediately rushed to the very community he grew up in to attend to the needs of those affected by the devastating earthquake.

A good Samaritan saved Abbel's life on deciding to sponsor him through Compassion International. Little did this good Samaritan know he was rescuing this boy for 'such a time as this'.

On my recent trip to Haiti, I ran into the reality of many Karas roaming the streets having lost their parents in the earthquake. I ran into three kids roaming the streets. They did not attend school and worse of all, they had no one to turn to. One boy told me his parents died in the earthquake and he survived by digging out of dumpsters.

Haiti, the poorest country in the western hemisphere, needs help. Child development through sponsorship is the surest way to tackle poverty easily and faster. Lasting help will come in human development as the adage goes, " If you want to plant for a season, plant grains, if you want to plant for a century, plant trees but if you want to plant for a lifetime, plant people."

Reconstructing the environment in Haiti will rarely change the people but reconstructing the people will definitely change the environment. Touch a life today in Haiti and redefine the future of the country.

Be inspired by the tenderness of these children and come to their rescue.

Article on Haiti Censored

At the Clinton's Presidential Library in  Arkansas

Ten days ago, I was able to visit Haiti and got to see a child I sponsor through Compassion International, a non-profit organization combating poverty through Child development. Other than that, I was looking forward to visit this country that I first heard about on bbc radio when I was 12 years of age and developed interest in. For some strange reasons, I loved Haiti despite its terrible political history. It became my childhood dream to visit Haiti and so when the plane touched down in Port-au-Prince, the Capital, I felt like an exile returning home.
Well, on return I wrote an article to capture what I saw, what I smelled, what I felt, what I tasted and what I touched but God has held my finger from pushing the 'post' button.
Everyday since then, I have been editing the story and editing and editing but never pushing the submit button. This morning, I edited further but just before I closed on my last thought, God censored it and I am no longer going to post the story.
Instead, God has given me the freedom to write what you are reading right now. He has allowed me to say that my trip to the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere was a learning success.I was able to see the devastated capital, six months after the earthquake. I did not shed a tear but my heart started bleeding.
A day later, I was able to travel south in the department of Sud and took a boat ride to the Ile-a-Vache Island where the child I sponsor lives with her family.
Two days later in the town of Les Cayes, I was able to meet the President of RESPE political Party, Charles Henri Baker, popularly known as "Charlito". He is a presidential candidate for the forthcoming presidential elections in November. Our one-hour discussion exposed me to mind blowing perspective on the poverty of this former-slave country.
I left Haiti feeling an urgent need to return as I learned that the Country and her people need more of the worlds physical presence than the financial support. One idea I put in the mind of Charlito was, if he ever becomes president, he needs to see how to restore the pride of the nation. Haitians needs inspiration to be proud to be Haitians. There is nothing as bad as loosing the fundamental feeling of belonging and identity. Whether in scarcity or plenty, human dignity is an inalienable right, it is sad I saw it elusive from the Haitians.
I am glad, however, that I finally made it to fulfill a childhood dream of setting foot in Haiti. And not only set foot but also share hope with a six-year-old. This is a journey and experience that will remain in my active memory for a long time, probably for lifetime.

ESCAPE HATCH FROM POVERTY

Two girls in Eastern Kenya taking that long trek to school bare foot.

It is five O’clock in the morning and the fog is heavy, hovering as close to the ground as it can get. The cock crows for the umpteenth time and children emerge from all directions of the village to take the one dusty road to school. In their tattered clothes, some grazed on the shoulders, others with multiple multicolored-patches and most bare footed, they trudge on to school, hoping for a brighter future. A future so bleak that one can see it in their sunken eyes rested on dry, bony faces.
In a few years, the numbers waking up to walk several miles to school on an empty stomach start shrinking. Eunice drops out at sixth grade because her aunt has a new baby and someone has to babysit. Alice stops going to school because her father thinks she is not improving. Naomi runs away from home because she can no longer withstand the hardships in the family. Domitila is discouraged because all her childhood friends have dropped off and her mother tells her she has no chance of advancing further than eighth grade anyways! It is heartbreaking. The boys keep going but it a matter of time before the demands of society rests on their shoulders and they can no longer advance. One young man once told me he cannot read because he could not concentrate in class, “I had to sit by the window all the time to keep one eye on the goats and sheep browsing outside while the other eye tried to concentrate on the blackboard.” He simply could not keep up; eventually he decided to follow his father’s wish to herd the family’s livelihood.

To untangle communities out of such dilemmas would require deliberate efforts like was the case with me: holistic child development. In open societies, education is the main determinant for social mobility and higher education opportunities are necessary in order to pull away from the poverty line. I was lucky to have been sponsored by compassion International and benefitted from its holistic Child development model. In this program, I was brought up in a concerted cultivation where there were activities programmed for me to get involved in. These activities and opportunities build my social skills, physical health, spiritual consciousness of God’s plan for mankind and His redemptive work. Also, it built my self-esteem to believe in the dreams of my childhood. I was injected with hope and grew not looking at the poverty of my mother and the community around me but at the possibility of becoming their hope for a better tomorrow.
Today I look at the skinny boy with a protruding stomach, light like a feather and compare him with the 175 lbs, stout young man I have become and tears are coming down my eyes imagining what would have happened if God did not love me to send this sponsor who, not only rescued me from death but dreamt along with me!
Indeed Confucius was not confused when he said that, ‘a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step’. Meditate on this story and when you are done, don’t be tempted to hesitate, act. Give a child a chance and watch hope grow!