I could see figures in the distance as my friend Chris and I drove along the bumpy dirt road in the Kakamega forest. Women burdened with crushing loads of firewood somehow balanced upon their head, trekking to market several kilometers away. There they would cut the wood into neat bundles and sell it before repeating the endless backbreaking journey. This wasn’t the first time I had witnessed this scene so I knew once again my conscience would be stirred as we approached. It would be one of those times when I didn’t want to make eye contact but knew I would, and the unanswerable question would stir up within me of why I am the one so privileged. As we approached the line of women walking in single file the thought flashed through my mind to stop and talk to them. I brought the vehicle to a halt and, leaning from the open window, I said ‘Mama, that’s a heavy load, how do you balance that weight on your head’? She smiled and slowly lowered the logs to the ground. I got out of the truck and walked over to her. ‘Let me try’ I said. I stooped over and lifted the bundle to my knees before I dropped it so heavy was the load. They all began to laugh, and I laughed with them. We chatted for a moment and took pictures before I dropped a couple of coins in the hand of the lady to whom I had first asked the question. Her smile broadened and as we drove away they waved and said God bless you, we’ll pray for you. I doubt it was the coins which made them smile so much but rather that somehow their load was a little lighter. I know my conscience was.

Lady with the logs

The past four weeks have seen good progress made on three buildings projects, all of them will be used to care for children who are either orphaned or neglected. Work on the dormitory at Runo in west Pokot, which, is really a home to house the 108 orphans in the school continues. Meanwhile, working alongside other organizations we built a roof structure for Seeds Ministries who provide a feeding program in the infamous Kipsongu slum on the outskirts of Kitale. The third building is being constructed in Embu, 600klms south of Kitale in central Kenya for Graceworks. Participating in these projects I once again have had the opportunity to travel almost the length of this diverse country. From the arid desert of Turkana in the north, to the fertile highlands of Kitale in the west. Drive south and you’ll pass over Eldoma Ravine, up at 9000’ elevation, and a vista of the great rift valley and Massia land, below before entering the bustling city of Nairobi with its traffic jambs and street hawkers. Traveling on through the vast pineapple plantations and rice fields mount Kenya with its jagged peaks becomes prominent on the horizon before arriving at Embu. The cultures and even to some extent the features of the differing tribes seem to change with the scenery, each one differing subtly from the next. There are 42 different tribes in Kenya alone I’m told.

Lighten the load

In the midst of all the busy work tragedy struck 12 days ago and with it the jolting reminder of the frailty of life. My friend David Roden, an ex-pat from the UK, was involved in a traffic accident, which, at first didn’t appear to be too serious. He was taken to a public hospital in Kitale town which didn’t seem to have changed much from the colonial times when it was built. However, there didn’t seem cause for alarm and at 8 p.m. I left David resting, his wife Hidat at his side. Four hours later I received a call from a friend that David’s condition was deteriating and I rushed back to the hospital. He died an hour later. There weren’t even basic supplies such as oxygen to breath in the hospital, all stripped away by corruption and theft whos offspring are called poverty and illiteracy. Once again I was reminded of how privileged I am. Basic needs during an emergency are within reach to me but to few others here.

Embu building

The blessing of a new (used) vehicle was both timely and magnified by the events of this tragedy. I had taken delivery of a new truck just the week before and although I still need to get a few modifications done to it I feel so much safer negotiating the roads littered with potholes, unmarked speed bumps, cows crossing at random and bicycles wobbling along laden with everything from sacks of grain or charcoal to bags of cement and steel bars. Driving in Africa is somewhat a kin to playing a video game but much more serious. It certainly can sharpen the senses and improve ones prayer life.

Kipsongu Building

New truck

In spite of all the challenges and trails, triumphs and tragedies we all face whoever we are and wherever we live there are signs of new life everywhere as I look out on this Easter Sunday morning. An orchid I planted 18 months ago has two magnificent flowers blooming for the first time. A tiny brightly colored yellow weaver bird flies from its nest and the vivid crimson petals of a thorny bush aptly called Christhorn appear. Everything is temporary and in a constant state of change. Except that is for God’s plan of redemption for all who will accept it and the knowledge for those who do that they will forever remain in His grasp.