"Can I go with you now?"

Our team did a home visit a few days ago to see Janet, a little girl who was referred to us because she is an orphan and her home situation was not good. I am ashamed to say that I seriously considering canceling our appointment with the community health worker and returning to her in a few months or so when we have our living situation sorted and we would be more "ready" to take another child. Thankfully I didn't have the social worker's number to cancel, and once again I was blindsided by a little blessing.

The hike into Janet's home

We got the the area of town where she stays and ended up walking around for about an hour until we found the family home. I blame it on the poorly labeled dirt paths :). We all sat in their hot, dark living room and explained to her grandparents and aunt and uncle about our organization and offered the option of a full time place in our home or a sponsorship so she can remain with the family. By the looks of the home they were not able to care for her there either way, but we wanted to give them the option. None of them spoke English, but you could see the grandmother visibly perk up when we talked about bringing Janet to stay with us. She said something about her being cared for and getting a good education. At this point the aunt and uncle got up and walked out of the living room. I thought they just needed to get back to their work outside, but it turns out they were using Janet as a house servant and didn't want her to go with us. Well. That made me mad. Her grandmother seemed to be interested in her well being and there was another aunt who, at the very least, didn't support the child labor situation, so at least she has someone on her side.

Janet's corner :(

As we were heading to school to meet Janet, I asked if I could see where she slept. I think you can tell a lot about how a child is cared for based on where they rest. They pointed to the living room corner behind me where there was a handful of reeds. She spreads them flat and puts her bedding on top of them. I prayed her bedding wasn't the dirty rags by the side of the house that I passed on the way in, but is was.

Janet went to the nearest public school ( it took us 30 min to walk there) because they let you enroll and go to class up until the final exams if you can't pay school fees. It looks like she has repeated class 1 (first grade) around 3 times. As we walked I started to worry-what if she wants to stay with her grandparents? What if she's scared of us? It seemed pretty clear to me they were unable and possibly unwilling to care for her, but that doesn't mean she wants to leave.

I was told she was 12 yrs old, but I take that with a grain of salt since births aren't often recorded or remembered, especially for orphans. I was still surprised when the teacher led out a little girl who looked no bigger than 6, with the spindly legs and protruding belly of chronic malnutrition. But I was delighted to see she also had the twinkly eyes and easy smile of a child who hasn't given up yet. We told her who we were and a little bit of why we were there. I gave her some Mandazi that she ate with lightning speed, all while taking out her workbooks and showing us her school performance, pointing out her high scores. I think she was trying to convince us she was a good investment. Oh that made my heart ache. She held Jackys hand the whole time, and when we were standing to go she said, "Can I go with you now?". We were still at the school. She didn't even want to go back home once more, get anything, or say goodbye to anyone. Again-heartache. We promised we'd be back for her soon, and I was tempted to break my new rule-that they must come with birth certificates-but I didn't. It's so hard for us to get them when we aren't family, and it's not a smart thing for our organization to have undocumented children.

Janet showing us her schoolwork

The social worker slipped the money we gave her into Janet's school bag and told her not to tell anyone she had it until she got home and gave it to the grandmother. She had heard from neighbors that the grandfather is "not good" and he doesn't feed the grandmother or Janet, which is why she goes house to house scrapping pots. I hope it got to her.

As we walked down the hill from the school to reach the main road, Janet was walking in front of us and swinging her little arms and singing to herself. What an resilient and unscarred little soul she seems to have. I can't wait to get to know her. As we walked away, Jacky, Judy, Catherine and I exchanged looks that didn't really have words to fit, but all meant the same thing: from now on that girl is ours.

We hope to get her next week sometime. Her bed is ready, her pile of new little clothes is waiting. If you come away from this post feeling sad or guilty for having a soft bed and people who love you, then I didn't do a good job writing it because that was not my intention. Starting in a few days Janet will be safe, well fed, loved and educated. She will have a bright future, and will get to reclaim a little of the childhood that was lost. I simply wanted you all to know where she was coming from, and why we do this work. If you have ever supported us, or prayed for us, or traveled to Kenya with us, or driven us to the airport before a trip, or picked up our mail while we were gone-then you played a part in saving Janet, because we could not do any of this without the army of support that is behind us. So thanks :)

Jessie

 

 

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