In 2006, Kevin was part of a team of folks, planning a trip to Nairobi to help at an orphanage there. Kevin was looking for some special materials for a guitar to make, which he planned on selling to raise funds for the orphanage. A good number of folks here at the OLF steped up and donated I think all the material and Kevin got to work.
Here is part of Kevin's post from that trip to Africa.
Below are just a few photos from my trip that have become part of my favorite group. They capture some of the reason why I, and every member of the group of forty three people that I worked with, took the time and made whatever sacrifices necessary to go.
This first shot captures the essence of the purpose for the creation of the guitar dedicated to the orphanage there in Nairobi. It now houses only ten children who have not only been orphaned by the plight of AIDS, but who have also fallen prey to the disease themselves. They were excited to be able to hold and to touch the guitar even though they have no concept of the help that it may be in completing the facility that may house and provide a loving home environment for one hundred others who are in the same seemingly hopeless situation that they are in. The orphanage is aptly named the Tumaini Home For Children since the word Tumaini means Hope.
I explained how you all took part by supplying materials and parts to make it a reality and it was just another testament to how we, as Americans, are willing to do what small things we can to help the Kenyan people and to ease their suffering. When you're there and can see the magnitude of the suffering, the size of such a contribution takes on a reality that can only come with true perspective, but many small efforts like this one can add up and will begin to make a difference that will be felt by thousands.
The staff and children of the orphanage loved the guitar and asked that I forward a heartfelt "Thank You" to all who contributed.
This photo was taken during a stop at a large slum outside of Nairobi. The sewage runs in open ditches on the ground and there is no electricity. The smell from the open sewage drains was almost unbearable and we remembered that it was winter and the temperature was only about 75 degrees. We were told that it is much worse during the summer months when temperatures exceed 110 degrees and the smell draws animals in from the surrounding forest and causes a whole new set of problems for the people living there.
The children seem to have a joy that can only be exhibited by children in such horrible living conditions, but many show that there is something missing with their eyes as they smile. I could have been happy spending most of my time in Africa right here in this small play area outside of the makeshift school of the slums just touching and loving the children. They are funny and fascinated by us and our light skin with hair everywhere. Not alot of affection is shown by parents so a gentle touch was always welcome and quickly returned. They made me realize how much I've been able to do for my children...even in my trade. The whole situation is a sobering thing to experience and could never be communicated with just photos or words.
This little hand found its way into mine within two minutes of our arrival to those slums. The first small group of children we came upon as we entered just brought me to tears and I had a hard time even staying on my feet as I was confronted with their living conditions. I immediately stooped down and touched this little girl's cheek and greeted her with a typical Kenyan greeting of "Jambo" and she peered out from under her little bonnet that she wore and smiled saying, "Karibu" or welcome. She was probably three years old and followed me for the entire two mile walk through the slums as we climbed steep and hills up and down the community with treacherous rocky sections where I carried her so she wouldn't hurt her tiny bare feet.
Here she is in her little bonnet as she stopped with us along our walk through the slums.
Here's a photo of a 4 year old street orphan whose name is Michael. He bacame known to me and my colleagues as "Ice Cold Mike" after letting me know that he was cool when we met. He would wander into the government adminstration offices each day to beg for food and the people there would feed and clothe him, but he would end up back on the street to fend for himself each night...at four years old!! They brought him along as they came to attend the dedication of the building we'd worked on and, by the end of their time there, he would reach to grab my hand and bring me along everywhere he went on the jobsite. His story alone was enough to break my heart since I have four sons here at home that have enjoyed as many as twenty four years of love and care from my wife and I.
If I could have arranged it, I would have had him move here to live with us in the US, but it's very difficult to get an African child out of Africa by adoption. In the meantime, he will likely be taken in by the Hawa Boys home to be cared for and educated.
At the Hawa Boys Home, the boys farm a ten acre plot to provide fruit and vegetables for use in the home, but each boy is also given a one hundred foot square patch of land to farm for himself. The home supplies the necessary seed, fertilizer and tools and the harvest is sold at market. At sale time, each boy gives half of the procees back to the home to replace their seed and suppies and the other half is deposited into their personal account to be used when they graduate and are to move from the home.
Recently a boy left the home after nearly twelve years there and had accumulated nearly enough to completely pay for the construction of his first home in that farming account. He was the first resident of the home when it opened more than twelve years ago and has studied computer programming at the technical school on Nairobi. A great incentive for the boys who once lived on the street to work hard and take care of themselves and a great education for them that goes well beyond the classroom.
Here's a photo taken as we sat and played the African guitar while we visited and worked at the home. Several of the boys play guitar and the house guitar only had two strings on it. I left them all of the twelve extra sets of strings that I'd taken along and just hoped that my original set lasted the trip...which it did. I'm hoping to be able to get a pair of or more student or reasonable quality entry level guitars to the home through World Servants since music is such a large part of their culture and is a great way to express themselves while living there.
Kevin, may your legacy live on for hundreds of years. May your family find peace in the struggle and may you know that a part of you will always blow through the lives of those you touched, like the wind blowing the tall grass here in Tanzania.
Rest in peace my friend.
