Time to Go Home

“It’s time to go home”, she told me. “You’ve had enough, you’ve done what you could and you need to return.” Inside I knew she was right, but I did not want to admit it. 

After all, three weeks in rural Kenya, and what was there not to like. The hospitality and the warmth of the people, surely I could handle a lot more of that. And what about those cups of sweet tea with milk, warm sodas with biscuits, and sukumu wiki with chicken drenched with sauce, far better than brand Swiss Chalet?

The second word Kenyans learn in their beautiful Swahili language is “karibu”. One hears it all the time - “welcome”.  The first word being “asante” - “thanks”.  Such a thankful people with open hearts. And then there’s “sawa sawa” meaning OK or “that’s all right” or any other phrase that means “you’re spot on”. Kenyans know how to make one feel like royalty.

Living in Kenya for one year of my life, on and off over the past 13 years has been a delight. In 2004 I was part of a research project that would change the course of my life. With the assistance of the Commonwealth Secretariat, I travelled to 50 primary and secondary schools as well as one teacher training institution in a project that focussed on the effects of the HIV/Aids pandemic on Kenya’s public school system. 

My base was in Garissa, North East Province where I had the privilege of teaching students and mentoring teachers at the Garissa Boys HS. 

While there I visited the Dadaab Camps for Refugees and to the far west of Kenya in several of Kakamega’s rural schools. These were both one week assignments and out of these intense experiences came a strong desire to do something to alleviate the pain. But whose pain was it? Mine or theirs?

Pain has many expressions created by neurological and emotional stressors. The pain of loss is very real and it tends to break one’s heart. Anger can be an emotional reaction to the realities of injustice and prejudice, causing pain to one’s conscience. Spending days and weeks with people who suffer in some capacity is a stress that weighs on the soul. 

The pain of sensing another’s loss of dignity can be internalized to such an extent as to create a crisis of faith in oneself to even make a difference. In fact, it is impossible for a caring human being to witness people in trauma and crisis and not being affected personally. Pain in small increments adds up, one image and sound bite at a time. 

The question is, “how long can one survive until emotional overload or the beginnings of post traumatic stress disorder PTSD occurs?”

Signs of acute poverty, poor nutrition and hunger, lack of access to justice and health care bombard the senses. Culture shock followed by anger and compounded by a sense of guilt leads to one question, “why me?” 

How is it that I escape the inequalities of geography when there are 1.2 million orphaned youth under the age of 19 years living in Kenya. Poverty in rural Kenya is "in your face", where the standard of living is low, where tropical diseases are rampant, where HIV/Aids prevails and the life span is too often cut short. 

Inequalities of human existence abound. There is no social assistance and free education does not exist. The poor do not have options; yet, Kenya boasts 5 star hotels, shopping malls and grocery outlets equal to anywhere in the world. The wealthy drive Land Rovers and Toyota Land Cruisers to their private clubs and send their children abroad for their education. The divide between rich and poor is enormous.

I love Kenya. In many ways it feels like my second home. I have seen the beauty and pathos of this country. Strong friendships have developed over the years and I truly hope there is never a day I shall count as my last in that beautiful country. 

But…there is always a breaking point. Back in February 2004 I met a young 17 year old who had recently attended school for the first time. Each day he brought a plastic bag to school that contained all his belongings. This, as he did not know where he would be sleeping that night.

I was finished…destroyed. I had to find a quiet place and there I wept and my heart was broken. In time I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder and a voice from a dear friend saying, “it’s OK, it happens to all of us.”

Africa wears you down. Little by little it chips away at the inner fortress of personal pride and prejudice. But in its place there is a wholeness and healing that comes when the heart is softened and opened to a new perspective. The key is not too much, just a "chip" at a time.

So when she said, “I can see it in your eyes, it’s time”, I knew what my dear friend meant. She had witnessed my pain and it was her way of saying I had had enough. 

Leaving Kenya is always hard. Home is a place of refuge, where they always take you in. Home is for strengthening, rebuilding and renewing one’s passion in life.

I shall return to Kenya soon, God willing.

Dedicated to Patricia Makori, CES Kenya Associate whose words "it's time to go home" are never forgotten.

Canada - A Sesquicentennial Reflection

Canada

150 Years a Nation – going strong

15 decades – little time to create

What some would say is the best place to live

For 36 million people from all corners of the world

Canada

Self-deprecating, yet proud of its icons:

Beaver, moose and the Maple Leaf forever

Grey’and Lord Stanley’s Cup,

Inukshuk, big Nickel, and Canadarm,

And with all due respect to our neighbours to the south

Inventors of basketball and the telephone

Canada

Where civilized folks are more apt to say “sorry”,

“eh?”, “after you please” and “see you at Tim’s”

And a “Come from Away” is not looked down upon.

Canada

Home and native land to Indigenous peoples 

Friend to refugee and immigrant 

Over 700 languages and dialects spoken

Canada

Where ordinary people make their mark

Their footprints seen from coast to coast to coast 

Communities like Gander now on Broadway

Defining the meaning of generosity

Canada

Where names like Rocket, Chief, Great One, and Sid the Kid

Reign supreme in “ice hockey’s domain”

And Group of Seven, Oscar, McRae, Marconi, 

Bethune, The Hip, and Lightfoot 

Share with the world their stories of Canada

Canada

Where beaver tails, poutine, maple syrup, split pea soup,

nanaimo bar, cod tongue, bison burgers, salt cod and scruncheons,

Canadian bacon, tourtiere, Montreal smoked meat,

blueberry pie, fresh butter tarts and icewine are celebrated

Canada

Inspiring, nurturing, inviting and growing

More than a nation of loggers and fishermen

Greater than bilingualism and multicultural pursuits

Canada

Lest We Forget…to name but a few…the cost of freedom at such a price!

48^th Highlanders, The Black Watch, The Queen’s Own Rifles, Royal Westminster Regiment, Canadian Medical Corps, Les Voltigeurs, Duke of Connaught’s Own, Grenadiers, Cape Breton Highlanders, Nova Scotia Rifles 

At Somme, Beaumont Hamel, Vimy Ridge, Passchendale, Dieppe, Hong Kong, Juno Beach, Rhineland, in Britain, France, Netherlands, Italy and in the Atlantic

Canada

Your greatness shines in humility

Through service to humanity

Compassion for the homeless

Open doors, and equal opportunities

Personified in the lyrics,

“God keep our land glorious and free

O Canada, we stand on guard for thee”

Canada

Because of you, we are

The true North, strong and free!

Michael Frederiksen

June 21, 2017

Healing by Hanging Out

I recently heard a phenomenal story http://m-gat.es/2dy21no @TheMoth on the healing power of bearing witness. In it, South African writer and activist Sisonke Msimang states: “Bearing witness is a form of action — sometimes the single most important thing we can do in order to fix everything within us that is broken. And I realized that you can’t do anything — you certainly can’t change the world — unless you’ve learned how to sit, how to be with people, in silence.” 

With over a dozen visits and a year of my life breathing the sweet Kenyan air, I am convinced that poverty and injustice in developing countries will not be erased in our lifetime. With due respect to the initiatives of the MDGs(2015) and the SDGs(2030), they are but guidelines to be met when all political, social environmental factors are in sync. Service providers show amazing resilience and courage, often going well beyond their own parameters of safety and security. They too are limited by external factors beyond their control. There are no easy solutions, no quick fixes.

I once asked a Canadian veteran of humanitarian aid what he did to measure the success in his work. Ron Ward worked in Kenya for four decades in a number of health, education and nutrition outreach programs. His answer was “I hang around.” In his view it was more important to first be accepted by local elders and chiefs. Furthermore, he believed strongly that to meet a humanitarian need through a western mindset was a recipe for disaster. So hanging out meant meeting people in their world, getting to know them as human beings and by doing so breaking down barriers of mistrust.

CES Canada Patron Ron Ward built hospitals, schools and provided access to education for thousands of needy children. He was a doer, but first he learned the principle of coming alongside, acknowledging the reality of pain and then acting in ways that were progressive and inclusive. Ron embodied what the prophet Micah wrote about what God requires of us. What a pleasure it was to spend time and learn from a man who believed that "to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with God" was the essence of life.

I have learned the value of spending time with people in mud huts, at their shambas, in the village and at the local school. This is where the heart is softened, even broken. These are the places where true understanding happens.

While visiting the shamba of Gilbert Kiptoo (CES Sports Ambassador) I had occasion to walk his property with Shadrack, a young 12 year old Kenyan boy adopted by Gilbert. We entered a dimly lit mud hut and were invited to sit and spend time with two elderly women who lived there. We nodded, smiled and spoke in different languages. After some time I decided to leave. As I stood to leave I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. Shamrock's non verbal communication was clear, it was not time to leave. What I neglected to consider was a beautiful Kenyan custom. "Mzungu, you may not leave until tea has been served."

The urge to do something needs to be suppressed in favour of first “bearing witness.” When people get together, have a meal or a cup of tea, there is something special that happens. Our common humanity is evident as we realize we are more alike than we are different. As we spend time "hanging out" without rushing to the next appointment, we bear witness to the fact that all people are valued and are an integral part of the human experience.

We can learn much from other cultures that practice a life where people are more important than things and where relationships are valued over substance. I am reminded of the verse in the New Testament Colossians that says, "Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience." These qualities are so evident in the Kenyan people I have met. 

To dress is a conscious act where decisions are made as to what to wear. To put on the metaphorical clothing of patience requires a predisposition towards a simpler and less stressful lifestyle. Gentleness and humility are virtues that seek to raise the profile of others. God loves all people; yet, there are those He has chosen to display some of the same characteristics that Jesus displayed in his life. He had compassion for all and gave respect to the vulnerable and the poor. What an honour it is to reflect the Christ's attributes in small measure. Within this context, getting dressed in clothing far greater than the finest runways of Paris or Milan is a brilliant opportunity. We are able to bear witness to the fact that God uses ordinary people to do extraordinary things. 

Canadian Senem Ozkin recently volunteered for CES Canada in Kenya. She was part of a CES Canada/Kenya team that provided relief and medical aid for children in rural Kenya suffering from Jiggers. In her words, “After hundreds of kids had gone through the process of being de-jiggered, their feet soaked in sodium bicarbonate to close up their wounds, on they went - many of them without shoes - to their homes. Facing the reality of leaving these kids behind and wondering how these brave little souls handled themselves in such a grown-up way was almost too much to comprehend.  What could we do to give them back their innocence? So little really when compared to what they gave us.”

Senem applied the principle of “bearing witness” and by being there, her perspective was altered. As one who washed those little feet and held their tender frames while the jiggers were being removed, there was a healing of a different kind that was taking place.

By feeling the hurt and acknowledging where people suffer the most, we come to realize that but for a different set of geographic circumstances, we too could be in this place. We become better people, more empathetic and it is at this point the most effective and inspiring humanitarian impact can be done.