Agape means Love

When my daughter Val was in Kenya in 2010, she stayed with Maggie and Oliver for several weeks. Earlier in her six month stay, Maggie had delivered her third child, a beautiful baby girl who they named Beautiful Anna.

Val hadn’t told Maggie and Oliver that she was returning to Kenya, so she called them out of the blue, said she was in Nairobi and asked if we could come for a visit.

Though Beautiful Anna had just been a baby when Val was there three years ago, the precious child bestowed upon Val the warmest greetings. Her name is certainly fitting.

2013

2010

After we visited with Oliver in their home for a while, he took us down to the orphanage which he and his wife run, Agape Hope Center. Attached to the orphanage is a school, which caters to about half orphans and half kids from homes throughout the community.

The school currently runs through grade 8. This year four boys will graduate from 8th grade. For them to go to high school next year, it will cost 28,000 shillings a piece, which is the average yearly income of many Kenyans. Oliver is hoping to open a high school at the orphanage to serve these kids. It would be cheaper to hire four teachers, and then they could offer high school to other kids and get an income from that. But that all takes money up front.

Looking around the grounds of the orphanage and school, it was obvious that the money would be hard to come back. My heart goes out to those graduating eighth graders and their prospects for next year. 

Click here to learn more about Agape Hope Center. 

The Orphanage

On Thursday, while I was volunteering in Ayacucho, Peru, with Cross Cultural Solutions, we went to the orphanage. After that day, we decided that the organizers of our stay started us with the easier placements and worked up to the hardest ones. The first of the week wasn’t too bad, but by Thursday, we were feeling more stressed and challenged. Meg, Tina, Gayle and I became nervous for Friday, our last day there. How could it be more stressful than an orphanage of 150 boys and girls, some orphans but some just dropped there by parents who couldn’t afford to raise them.

We worked with the infants and toddlers. The youngest baby, a month old, had lost his mom and been brought to the orphanage when we was five days old. The infants went down for their naps around ten. The one year olds were not so lucky.

They were fun, a little sassy with each other, demanding our attention and not sharing their limited toys very readily. But by eleven, a few of them were getting sleepy, and the woman who worked there let us know that they were not to nap. Though we didn’t speak Spanish well enough to understand her, her gestures clearly told us that the toddlers had to stay awake. She even took one to the sink and splashed water on his face. It was heart-breaking.

Close to noon, another woman came in and they started taking the little ones, two by two, to feed them lunch. After they ate, they went down for their naps, whether they were tired or overtired. And, in somewhat of a daze, the four of us wandered downstairs to wait for the bus to pick us up.

One of the courtyards on the orphanage grounds.

Meg and I surrounded by the orphans and their toys. The window was their own contact with the outdoors. They loved it when we held them up to the window so they could watch the world go by.

Lahe, one of only two girls, waiting for lunch.

Jaime and me