To Delight in the Life of a Child

Three days a week my heart is re-opened to be shaken and stirred by a select group of individuals.
Each time my heart returns changed. At times for the better and at times for the worse.
Dadashe, St. Maurus, Afema are the places at which physical strengthening is facilitated and emotional well being can sprout. These three organizations cater to the youth and the families of the slims that without a doubt face the greatest struggles of all. Mentally and/or physically these children are unlike the 'normal' child. They are unlike the 'normal' child who assists in the physical livelihood of the family. Where money really does buy the pillars under which happiness may grow (medicine, food, a roof over your head) these children are seen to be of little value as their ability to provide such are slim.

Both Dadashe and Afema are therapy centers which I am working at, providing therapy to youth between the ages of 5 months to 11 years of age, along side an occupational therapist. St. Maurus is a 'special school'. While I am there I am also working along side a occupational therapist from 9:30-1:00 and from 1:00-4:00 I spend my time in the classroom assisting with what ever programing they have running or spearheading some activities on my own.

I have now been working a these facilities for two weeks, and slowing the idea of what it means to be disabled in Kenya is emerging. Early on in this journey of discovery I found myself asking; what makes a child beautiful? Where does the love for a child come from and through what can this love persevere? What role does the life of the mother play in the life of the child ('take care of yourself, take care of others')?

When I think about the relationships which I have developed and greatly cherish in Canada I think about the celebrations. What others may deem to be small achievements we recognized as huge mountain accents and celebrated as celebration was due. The things these youth accomplished were grand feats in a environment and history that continually pulled them back. Such celebrations are not alive and well here in Kenya. The reality is that the environment is more harsh and restricting for these youth and the damaging negative stigma towards these youth (and adults) seems to continue to engulf all that is life. This stigma, which I feel should be referred to as a misunderstanding, keeps these children indoors, isolated and lacking socialization. The stigma is not isolated in the youth but spreads to the whole family leaving what I see to be over 50% of mothers as single mothers, and also isolated by family, friends and neighbors.

I hope to in time write a full blog focused on the topic of religion, as it is a very powerful, governing force in Kenya. In the meantime I wish to share a few thoughts about religion as they connect to the lives of these children with disabilities and their families. As I have openly shared with many very curious people in Kenya, and I will now share with the cyber world - I do not consider myself religious nor do I tie myself to one religion. I find value in many of the teachings of religion, but I also see the damage that seems to result of religion as well, thus I choose to internalize teachings, pulling from them what I believe to be powerful positive aspects and finding a more spiritual route. Religious beliefs in Kenya are without a doubt having a negative impact on the lives of the children I am working with (I cannot say for certain that there are not some positive impacts of religion too, but to date I have not seen such things). Following the belief that God is our creator, some mothers I have the opportunity to speak intimately with relayed that children with disabilities (specifically their child with a disability) was a punishment from God. What is the reason for accepting such a belief when it is pulling a good woman down? In many cases I have seen that religion exists as a force to provide hope and promote good doing in this area, however in this case this is far from the truth.

This week my colleague at Afema embraced a new idea of mine with open arms. We will be holding a small gathering, not for therapy for the children, but for therapy for the mothers and fathers. The mothers (primarily) and fathers need to be the fighting force which believes in the success of their children and breaks down the existence of stigma. This gathering will be an opportunity for mothers to openly share the struggles they face, and the success they have had with other mothers. For mothers to find a source of support in a community which continually shuts them out. As well as an opportunity to educate the mothers on basic therapy activities and socialization. The mothers and fathers will be the changing force in the lives of the children and they need to be helped as much as their children. I will be purchasing milk for all of the families who attending this gathering (yes a bribe) because the truth is that if we do not offer something to the mothers they will not come. They are in such dire need to put food on the table that spending time on anything else to them seems insignificant and useless. I can't blame them for this (although I do see fault in this belief) and have committed to provide maize and flour next month if it means the opportunity to educate mothers.

One mother in particular that has driven me to action told me that she has lost hope in her child, she is unable to see any improvement in her child, or delight in their life - it was very clear that she felt she was at the end of the road and her care for her child was a river running dry.

On a more joyful note I had a euphoric moment this week at St. Maurus School that I am so grateful for. While sitting at the teachers table, listening to Swahili gospel music, and looking through the window. I saw nothing other than a beautiful environment where kids laughed, shared and learned. Inside the walls of St.Maurus nothing else mattered than the lives of those children and celebrating the moments we were able to share together. At that moment I happily ignored the world beyond those walls. For that moment I delighted in remaining blissfully unaware. With the departure of a German volunteer, we celebrated the moments he had shared within those walls with soda cheers, chappoo and the continuous blowing up and popping of balloons. I will in time have some pictures of this day to share with them and I promise you when you see these pictures you will wonder how someone could ever hate such a child, see them as a punishment from God or choose to shun them from their lives. Although I know we cannot ignore the world outside of those walls, for that moment it was a absolute joy to say to hell with them - lets celebrate and cherish these children as beautiful as they are.  

Like a fountain may we bubble over and release the nourishing entities which fill us so that others may be flourish in their gift, knowing that again we will be filled so that again we may bubble over on the people surrounding us.