Eldoret Street Kids

Well, I’ve been here for 2 weeks now, and things are finally starting to settle into a sort of routine. I’m definitely feeling more like part of the Ward 3 team now, and definitely starting to be friends with the Kenyan medical students, instead of just acquaintances. The other exciting thing is that I admitted my first patient on Monday night! The mother spoke English, so I was able to do it all by myself, too. The patient was a 3 ½ year old little girl with earache, fevers, and vomiting. Her blood smear was positive for malaria, so we’re treating her for malaria, BUT I also looked in her ears and diagnosed her with an ear infection. Go me. Usually they just get an ENT consult for ear infections here, because looking in kids’ ears is not bread and butter pediatrics here as it is in America.

Every Thursday night after dinner at IU house we all gather in the lounge and have a “Fireside Chat” about an important non-medical topic. Last Thursday’s was on Eldoret Street Kids. Let me start by saying that I was somewhat unprepared for the street children here. There are quite a few of them, and every time we go into town, they target us (being the wealthy Americans) to ask for money. They’re what you might imagine – dirty, malnourished, desperate. Not to mention persistent. Once they find you they’ll follow you up and down the streets, waiting outside stores for you, saying “muzungu (white person), money for bread” or “muzungu, 20 bob” and when you tell them “Hapana (No)”, they ALWAYS ask “Why?” It’s so heartbreaking. But, we are advised not to give them money, because unfortunately and shockingly these gangs of small children are drug addicts. The main thing the street children do is sniff glue (it’s a cheap, easy high), or they will smoke marijuana or drink alcohol if they can get it. It’s just awful. The alternative is obviously to give them food, which we do whenever we have any with us. The majority of the kids are boys, as girls are more readily taken in by friends or family – they can help care for the house and the children, and there’s a relative assurance that girls will eventually leave the house to get married, in addition to bringing in a dowry payment when they do get married.

So, at our fireside chat last Thursday we had 3 men speak: Frances, Mwenge, and Benson – all of them former street kids. Their stories and experiences were things I could not even fathom. Either one of many, many kids in a house with too many mouths to feed; or abandoned by parents; or attracted to the street life for any reason, these 3 found themselves living on the streets of Eldoret. They told stories of the drug/glue/alcohol addiction, the purpose of the high being strictly to distract them from their hunger or cold or loneliness. Mwenge and Benson are brothers who lived with their grandparents as young boys. In 1992 there was a lot of tribal unrest in Kenya, and one night they boys were forced to flee their home with their grandparents as a rival tribe attacked their village. “With only your feet and your God to protect you” as Mwenge said. Benson was 6 at the time, and he remembers cowering under a bush, being discovered, and having semi-automatic weapons pointed at him as the attackers shouted, demanding to know where the grown-ups where. All he could do was cry. Can anyone imagine ever going through anything like that? I know I cannot. All 3 boys were rescued from the streets by a German missionary who came to Kenya to start a school/home for street kids. Frances is now married with 2 kids, Mwegne is a university student in Nairobi, and Benson wants to go to pharmacy school once he catches up on his primary schooling. Their stories were harrowing, and I couldn’t help but feel incredibly grateful for all that I have; even in Kenya. Yes, I may complain about our small hostel room and our cold showers in sketchy bathrooms, but the fact of the matter is that I have so much more than most of the people in this country. It’s a very humbling thought.

Unfortunately, we see abandoned children not only in the streets, but also in the hospital. Many times kids will be brought in and parents disappear, or a baby will be born and the mother won’t take it with her when she leaves. Unimaginable I know, but a fact of life here in Kenya. Nine times out of 10 the abandoned child is HIV positive, or again is one more in a long line of too many mouths to feed, or both. And what can MTRH do but treat the child and wait for placement in one of the few already overcrowded orphanages? We have one little boy now, Benhein, he’s about 3. He’s so cute and playful, and he especially likes to grab the “torches” (penlights) out of our pockets. We’re not sure what the story is with his father, but his mother has recently married and had another baby. The new husband does not want to care for the child of another man, especially now that he has a son of his own, and especially since the Benhein is HIV-positive. So, Benhein was left at MTRH by his mother. It’s so easy to be outraged at the mother, but she probably has limited options available to care for herself and her new baby, so she had to agree to her husband’s terms. The whole situation is just incredibly sad. When I was at the hospital admitting Monday night, it was about 9:30 or 10, and Benhein was just up running around, acting like a total nutcase (normal toddler, if you will). My immediate thought was “why isn’t he in bed?” And then it hit me, he has no mother (or father) to put him to bed. He has no structure whatsoever, no one to teach him how to eat, sleep, or survive. He eats if he goes up to the foodcart when it comes around, otherwise… who knows? There is no one person assigned to his care. Horribly tragic.

And of course the worst part is that children almost never get adopted in Kenya, especially not HIV-positive children. The real injustice is that international adoption out of Kenya is impossible for various political and social reasons that I need to learn more about. HIV is becoming such a chronic, treatable condition now, especially in the West, so I really feel like international adoption may be the only hope for kids like Benhein.

Again, I don’t want to sound like I’m criticizing Kenya or the way things are here. There are changes that need to be made for sure, and I think eventually circumstances will be much better for Kenya and Africa, if the West can assume its critical role in the process. The happy part about the Eldoret Street Kids story is that, this Saturday, there is going to be a fair of sorts for all of the street kids at a local school. It’s a project organized by the Swedish medical students who are currently here. They’ll get fed, get some general health check-ups, and will even have some basic antibiotics and other meds available for them. Most importantly, Benson will be speaking to them, telling his story, and letting them know of the resources available to them to get them off of the streets. The organizers have asked the other med students to come and help out with physicals, etc, so I’m pretty excited about it.

Sorry this was such a depressing post. I just think I have to share the realities of life in Kenya, because if we can’t understand something, how can we ever change it?

Since things have settled down here, I’ve had quite a bit more time for quiet time/devotions, and I just wanted to share a few quick things. I’m currently working my way through Acts, which is one of my favorite books – I think the stories told about the original Church are just great. Acts chapter 2 tells the story of Peter and the apostles converting the 3,000 at Pentacost. “And all who believed were together and had all things in common, and they sold their goods and possessions and distributed them to all as any had need.” Chapter 4, verse 32 goes on to say “Now the company of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things which he possessed was his own, but they had everything in common…There was not a needy person among them, for as many as were possessors of lands or houses sold them, and brought the proceeds of what was sold and laid it at the apostles’ feet; and distribution was made to each as any had need.”

A very convicting few passages for me, especially as I am re-reading them while actually living amongst the poorest of the poor. Before I came to Kenya, I really resented the fact that I would immediately be identified as the “rich westerner.” Me? RICH?! I’m a STUDENT for crying out loud. Six figures in debt by graduation!!! But the reality is, compared to so many of these Kenyans, I am wealthy. What’s 10 shillings when bartering at the market? Next to nothing to me, but it could mean all the difference to the person I’m paying. These are just the things I try to keep in mind.

Keep the emails and prayers coming my way. I appreciate them more than words can say.