"I expect to pass through this world but once. Any good deed therefore that I can do or any kindness that I can show a fellow human being, let me do it now, let me not defer or neglect it, for I will not pass this way again."

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

Sewing and Snapfish

 

I have been in Kenya for a week and a half now.  As usual I am struck by how different things become familiar so quickly.  Like solar lanterns instead of electric bulbs.  Bathing from a bucket in place of a shower.  Ugali-eaten with your hands-with every meal.  But other things feel remarkably foreign; most notably the feeling of running this organization without Lynet.  It has been a slightly discombobulating week, happy and sad, bittersweet and lonely, yet never having a minute to myself (an occupational hazard when you stay with 16 children).  

But it has been wonderful staying here at the house with them instead of my usual guest house down the road.  I get to see what dinner and evenings are like.  I get to participate in nighttime prayers and songs.  I’ve had more time to learn more deeply their unique little personalities and quirks.  I am teaching Sellah to sew and she’s loving it.  Her first endeavor produced a little lopsided purse and she was delighted.  Colian has absolutely no interest in sewing, but cannot be dragged away from a craft project.   Arnold and Brian have been teaching me Kiswahili in the evenings and like to pop around corners randomly during the day and ask me the meaning of words and phrases.  Teddy and Easton, my almost-grown boys, have been accompanying me on errands to Kisumu and Luanda so I don't have to travel around alone.  They are just as stir crazy as the kids back in US, waiting for schools to open again.  Naomi can really dance, and sings to herself when she thinks no one is paying attention.  

Sellah shows off her sewing creation

For only the second time in my life, I got to spend my birthday in Kenya.  It was a lovely day and the kids gave me a pedicure on the front steps.  Bright blue with sparkles was the color that best suited me, they said.  We had cookies and sweets as an after dinner treat to celebrate and my walls are COVERED in the Happy Birthday art they all drew.  It was a petty darn good day to mark another passing year of life.  

 

A sampling of the Happy Birthday art

Front porch pedicure


A birthday bouquet from my big boys :)

My favorite part of the day though, was when I gave them their first yearbook.  I just started making yearbooks a few months ago when I realized the first pics I had of my kiddos were already from 10 years ago.  And just like any children, they love seeing pictures of themselves, especially from a time they don't remember well.  I used God's gift that is Snapfish to make the book and gave them the 2010 edition on my birthday.  Their reaction was epic.  They crowded around it, heads pressed together so tightly there was no way sufficient light or air could enter, and howled with laughter as they pointed to the baby versions of themselves.  When they finished they turned the book over and immediately started again, over and over and over.  This went on for over an hour.  It was delightful to watch.  Even now, two weeks later, I will see one of them pick it up and slowly turn through each page.  It was my joy to watch them.

The 8th viewing of the 2010 yearbook 


Much love,

Jessie

Wednesday, September 23, 2020

A Sad Announcement

It is with profound sadness that we announce the death of our beloved director, Lynet Anyango.  She passed away suddenly at home on Sunday, September 13, 2020. Lynet is survived by her husband, Boaz, her two brothers, a sister, and a large extended family. She is also survived by the 18 Jemo House children and her TLC team, all of whom loved her deeply — like family.


Eddah (left), Me and Lynet visiting Eddah's school

Lynet was an essential part of the Too Little Children team ever since its creation in 2013.  She worked with her heart, advocated fiercely for the Jemo House children, and fought tirelessly to provide enough for the child who has too little. To say that TLC would not be what it is today without Lynet is a fact; to say that she will be deeply missed is a massive understatement. 


We, Lynet’s team, will continue her work: to be an example of God’s great love to his children, especially those in need, and to give them the knowledge, tools and ideals to change this world for the better. We will do our best to honor and match the passion and dedication she gave to her work, her loved ones, and her life everyday.


For those of you who knew Lynet, you know her passing is nothing short of a great and terrible loss for the rest of us still on Earth. For those of you who never had the chance to know her, here is a brief sliver of who she was. I hope it lets you know a little of her heart and her spirit. I hope it makes you ache a little, wishing you had been able to meet her. And I hope it inspires you to be more, like she was. 


Lynet and Mama Dave shelling maize


I first met Lynet in 2010 when I was working at Maseno Mission Hospital with Dr. Gerry Hardison. I admired this fiery young woman who had become his assistant and right hand by proving her calm head, her thoughtful heart, and her unwavering grit. I marveled at the way she learned the complex inner workings of the hospital and had earned the respect of those with far more experience and training than herself. She was wry, witty and determined. When Dr. Hardison retired and I started Too Little Children, I only knew two things for certain; Kenya was exactly where I was supposed to be, and I needed Lynet to be a part of my team. 


I can picture Lynet now, sitting under the mango tree in our front yard as she was on my last visit. She is helping us shell the maize corn-or remove it from the cob-after it has been harvested and dried. She answers a call from a social worker from the children’s department. She doesn’t stop shelling while she talks. She smiles as she watches Janet and Sellah jumping rope, giggling as it keeps catching on their ankles, and continues shelling. She reminds Brian as he dashes by, to use soap this time when he goes in to bathe-not just water.  She continues to shell. She tells me Millie has already grown out of her school uniform and Arnold has torn through all of his socks. Again.  She continues to shell.  She explains when we will need to get fertilizer this season for the fields and how many backpacks we need for the next school term.  She continues to shell.  She reminds me when to renew the children’s health insurance and tells me of her most recent visits to the older children in boarding school.  She continues to shell.  She explains how many chicks we need to hatch to keep enough egg-laying hens around and where the best place to get school supplies is at the Luanda market.  She continues to shell.  She reminds the kids to bring the laundry in from the line before the evening rains come.  She continues to shell. She tells me which children got malaria last month and who needs to see a dentist.  She continues to shell.   I tease her about something I can't even remember now, and she responds with her razor wit and dry sense of humor, never missing a beat.  She continues to shell.  She informs me of which sponsorship referrals are genuine and which are trying to take advantage.  She has the uncanny ability to understand what was really going on when I completely miss it.  She continues shelling, and it isn't until fat raindrops start hitting our arms that we grab the plastic tub and carry the remaining maize inside.  


It isn't until later, when this afternoon has become a memory, that I take the time to marvel at the number of moving pieces she helped to keep spinning.  It wasn't until I was faced with the loss of her that I fully appreciated the depth at which she was woven into the tapestry of our family and this mission.  She will be missed. Daily. But she is still in Jemo House, and she will continue to be a driving force behind our work as we continue on without her by our side.


~Jessie

 

Wednesday, January 22, 2020

Welcome Mama Dave!

I am very happy to welcome Dave's mom (my mother-in-law) to Kenya!  She will only be known here as "Mama Dave" but her real name is Sue :)

The kids are ravenously interested in life in the US, and have a keen curiosity for our families in particular.  Needless to say, there was much anticipation for her arrival.  These little faces peering over the welcome signs they made was the sight that  greeted us as we brought her to the house for the first time.

Naomi, Millie and Selah welcome Mama Dave to Jemo House

Daniel and Janet greet Mama Dave

Sue jumped right into life in Kenya and the kids loved getting to know her.  We had just harvested maize from our fields and she helped lay it out to dry and shuck it off the cobs.  The process included spreading the cobs of corn out to dry each day in the sun.  Then once they are dry enough to shuck the maize is dried again.  The maize can then be boiled to eat or ground up at the local mill to make our staple food; ugali.

Sue and Carissa spread our maize to dry in the sun
Sue and Lynet shucking the maize off the cob

Dave lends a hand to Jacky and Caroline 
Dave and I feel so blessed to have families that support our work and mission so completely.  It means so much to us to get to share this amazing place with them!

Jessie

Monday, January 20, 2020

A Lucky Woman


My apologies for the lack of cute pics and anecdotes in this post, but there weren't any for this bit.  This is the true and honest picture of all sides of this work.  Most of the time I love everything I do here.  And then once in a while, I wish someone else would do it for me.  Such is the way it goes though, with all things that are hard but worth doing. 

One of the first things I had to do when I got here was to fire Helen, one of our housemothers.  She is not a completely terrible-horrible-no-good person,  but she just was not right for the job.  We hire people to take on the role of caregiver (which is essentially a mother) for children that are not their own.  To be an encourager, a disciplinarian, a guider of ways and an unconditional source of love and support is not an easy job on the best of days.  And it certainly is not for everyone.  (It's actually not for very many people at all as evidenced by the number of foster parents in our own country).  She took the news well enough and once the dreaded task was over I set about finding a new candidate for the role.  It is commonly believed that any job working for a mzungu (westerner) is characterized by minimal work and an unconditional flow of cash; both of which are opposite in our case.  Needless to say, it is not an easy job to fill, so we took a recommendation from Florence, a trusted leader of another non-profit program and a dear friend. 

Lynet and I interviewed Caroline two days after I arrived.  She is a middle-aged woman with a warm smile and a quiet voice.  With great effort she looked me in the eye when answering my questions and her trembling hands gave away how stressful the interview must have been.  I later found she speaks decent English but was too nervous to think through the translations while we were talking so Lynet translated her answers.  I learned her story from Florence who accompanied her to the interview.   She used to work for a different children’s home until her husband died.  She had been required to live at the home so she had to leave when there was no one left to care for her own 6 children.  Her only option (since finding another job was near impossible) was to go back home to her husband’s place, and stay in a house on his family compound, as is the custom.  In order to have this roof over her children’s heads however, it is also the custom that she must be “inherited” by her husband’s brother as a second wife.   While they did not go into specifics, I learned that she was not one of the “lucky ones” as these two ladies described the women who get inherited by good men.  Without violating her privacy....it hurt my heart to hear the details.  

As distressing as her story was, it didn't feel like it was a slam dunk decision.  I laid in bed that night contemplating the interview and I was not completely filled with confidence.  She seemed genuine and kind, but she also seemed without hope and scared.  I have been a bad judge of character before and people can change drastically when they are no longer desperate, for better or worse.  And if it was the latter, my children would have to endure another caregiver leaving them and disrupting their home.  My first and foremost responsibility is to my children, to provide them with a loving, supportive and STABLE home.  Was she really the best choice??

Then I began to think about how I would feel and think about myself if I was inherited by a man as a piece of property.  What would I look to others if I had been forced to take such an option to keep my children safe-ish and fed?   I still felt like she deserved the chance to prove what she could be when she's safe and secure.  I prayed hard. Real hard.

The next morning I woke up with a sense of peace about these unknowns and with the confidence that Caroline was sent to us for a reason.  Prayers for the right person for this job has been sent upwards many times by many people before I even set foot back in Kenya.  We think she may be the answer we were hoping for and we have the faith to take that chance.   

Jacky (left) and Caroline in their Jemo House staff shirts

Welcome to Jemo House Caroline!

Wednesday, January 15, 2020

Back in the saddle again


Boy, I have missed this place and these children.  I am happy to be back.  I took the direct flight from JFK to Nairobi this time, so the jetlag that usually renders me a zombie by 4 pm is only minimal.    I traveled with Alexandra Barfield, a college student and photographer who will be helping me with a number of things here.  I am particularly excited about her ability to capture on camera the mischief behind a person's eyes.  I have been trying to capture Arnold’s for years now, and I’m excited to see what she comes up with.  Janet also has a number of signature looks that can only be photographed when she is unawares, so I am hoping Alexandra is up for a stealth mission to capture these faces on film that are so precious to me and that I miss wildly when I am away. 


The "parade" of kiddos that often follows our daily commute

Meghan, Ali, Me and Carissa in the back of a Tuk-tuk
I am also traveling with two nurses, Meghan and Carissa.  Meghan is becoming a veteran now that this is her second trip and Carissa is a first-timer.   Meghan and Carissa are working with TLC as well as with local hospitals, to provide care and assistance. 

Ali and Meghan carrying pads to our matatu stop to travel to a school. 
They are surprisingly heavy!
After much preparation and a practice run in our rooms, they were ready for our first pad talk at Essumba Primary School with 6-8th grade girls.  It is always somewhat nerve-wracking to stand in front of a group of pre-teenage girls talking about a subject that is both sensitive and giggle-worthy.  A thought that never occurred to me when I was the one doing the giggling a few years ago.  It was nice to have so many hands to do the talk, which allowed us to circulate the room better and make sure all the girls understood and could demonstrate how to put the pads in the underwear and how to change the liners.  It also allowed them to observe the girls during the part of the discussion about men who will “sponsor” a young girl to give her gifts of things she needs, especially pads, that require repayment with sex.   We want the girls to know that sex is expected in these arrangements, and that pregnancy and HIV infection are only two of the outcomes that could keep them out of school forever.   I’ve never noticed this before, probably because I am usually the one that handles that part of the talk, but it made several girls get teary.   I wish I could take those girls and carry them away to somewhere safe and happy.   And even though it doesn’t reflect the values Jesus taught me and I strive to live by daily; I want to bring those men to their knees with a swift and steel-toed kick to the nether regions. 
It is our hope that the pads we left them with will provide for some of their needs and make it harder to accept these "sponsorships" that have the potential to drastically alter the lives and educational future of these girls.  

Girls with their new pads
Meghan teaching about the magic of fallopian tubes and ovum :)
Ali leading a demonstration on how to use the pads


Per the usual one of our bags was a casualty of travel, stuck somewhere in JFK airport.  No one can actually locate it yet on the other end of the phone, so I am not hopeful of it arriving this week.  We have a very limited supply of sunscreen until that arrives, so we will have to start rationing soon :)

Jessie



Saturday, August 3, 2019

Be Brave



(Blogpost written by Sarah Jeter)

Hobby Lobby has ruined inspiration signs for America. You know what I’m talking about. Just look above your fireplace. Is “Live, Laugh, Love” painted in curly script on a fake-weathered piece of wood? I thought so.

And I’m not saying that’s bad. It’s good to fill your home with positivity and inspiration and the motivation to feed the good things in your life. All I’m saying is that Hobby Lobby has made them so mainstream they kind of lose their meaning.

That’s why, when I saw the new sign painted on the hallway wall in the girls’ corridor at Jemo House (the children’s home in Maseno, Kenya TLC runs), it didn’t strike me as anything too special. It says, “Be Brave.”

But, dear reader, take a second to think about what it means to tell a young woman to “be brave” in a rural village in Kenya.

Many of the girls at Jemo House come from abusive homes and families. Each day, they’re recovering and healing from years of mistreatment and abuse. For them, being brave is waking up every morning and choosing to heal, to forgive, and love people, even when so many people have given them thousands of reasons not to.

Being brave in Maseno is working hard in school, being bold about wanting to go to college and pursue a love of learning instead of the comfort of a more domestic life. It means fighting against gender normalities and expectations we don’t have in the same capacity in the United States. And it means always wearing a dress, even if that’s not what makes you feel comfortable or at home in yourself.

We are proud of all of our children at Jemo House, especially our young women. We are proud that they’ve chosen to be brave, and part of our mission to encourage and equip them to choose bravery every day. But the other part of our mission is teaching them that choosing bravery doesn’t always mean choosing anger. It takes bravery to love others, stand up for what you know to be right, and do what is best, not what is easy.

If you want to help us keep encouraging our girls to be brave, we would love your support. A $10/month donation will help us feed these young, hungry and courageous ladies. (Bravery is easier on a full stomach, I know this from experience.)

But, more importantly, TLC is asking each of you to practice bravery this week, in honor of the girls we support. Love yourself and others sincerely, in the way you deserve to be loved. That’s true bravery.

From your family at TLC, have a great week.

Got a few minutes? Here is a great and related Ted Talk about bravery and vulnerability.
https://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability?language=en