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Category Archives: AIDS in Africa

Male dominated tribal groups learn to value women

18 Friday Mar 2016

Posted by judge525 in AIDS in Africa, Hope for Life Kenya, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

My dear friend Josephine K. is a brave and courageous woman who lives in a small town near Nakuru, Kenya. She has been in my life since our church began a partnership in which she remains a key leader for the last 16 years ago. God continues to use her in miraculous ways. She doesn’t settle for less.

As I have shared before, Josephine oversees Hope for Life, a community based program for children at risk in her own neighborhood where HIV/AIDS ravages childrens’ lives. Many of you sponsor her high schoolers. Josephine could remain at the center mentoring these 125 children, feeding and discipling them as she does so well, without stepping outside her community. But that is not her way. She is compelled to teach and empower people to their full potential as they understand from God’s word that they are God’s image bearers.  .

kellylemonphotography_KENYA2015-251

A number of years ago she was mentored by an incredible American missionary woman in community development principles. She was trained to teach a fantastic curriculum in Transformational Development principles and methods that she now uses and teaches wherever she is invited around Kenya. She receives many invitations to teach womens’ community groups, church groups, and often in communities where no one else seems to want to go. It has been difficult to believe anything progressive can happen among some of these tribes.

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one of the many women’s groups that are changing their communities

I am going to share an unbelievable story I received recently from Josephine.  My church helped sponsor this training event a few weeks ago and we received this report upon her return. I have asked her permission to share it on my blog. I know you will be blessed and even more so,  you will be amazed at how God used this time in February to change lives.  (I will mark in bold the statements that demonstrate strong development principles.)

“We arrived in Eldoret at 8 p.m. on Monday, the 1st of February. At 8.30 p.m. the first group of 30 arrived from Northern Kenya. The next group of 30 arrived at 7.30 a.m. on Tuesday. We started the training at 8.30 a.m. with 74 participants. (These individuals would be facilitators of new methods upon returning home.) It is tradition in some areas that women must be escorted by husbands and other leaders from their community. We embraced this as a good opportunity to involve these men in group discussions together with women.

Initially, it was very difficult for the men to allow women to speak in their midst. So as a method of teaching, we used a ball and tossed it to both men and women to answer open-ended questions. Men realized that women were sharp and were giving better opinions and ideas. At the end of the second day the men formed discussion groups to critically analyze resources (or assets) within their locality—untapped resources that could be utilized to improve their livelihood and quality life. We were surprised when they said how much women have been untapped wealthy resources in their communities.

There were five groups represented from different regions of Kenya: some near Eldoret including some well known groups like Turkana and Pokot. There were 76 women in all and 14 men. Realizing how much other people are gifted in creating ideas of different projects and how important it is to respect others by accommodating their ideas without discrimination or prejudice, facilitators were then asked to revisit their culture and analyze the good and also the harm it has done as pertains to women and development. They realized as facilitators that they are donors to development projects in the manner of mobilization, sensitization, planning, and assignment of different roles to willing people.

 

There were those present who could only communicate in the vernacular. We were amazed at how members from the two groups from Northern Kenya volunteered to interpret to their groups. Women translated while men sat and listened, something previously unheard of. One man who came representing a peace forum in his locality stood and said, “What I like about this seminar is women empowerment.” I asked why. He said, “This training is uncovering what we men have been covering for so long—not regarding women as God’s image bearers. When we go back to our place in the Chief’s meeting, we shall allow women to give ideas just like we do.”

This forum group wrote the following resolutions:

  1. No more marriages of young girls 14 years old.
  2. No more training boys to be raiders, because our girls are left as widows at an early age.
  3. There is no need for inheriting widows because they are capable of taking care of their families. They even have more money from the income generating groups of theirs and they manage families better.
  4. Those women who refused to be inherited are better than men.
  5. Our attitudes towards women must change from now to create space for improved livelihood.
  6. Abandoning the practice of ‘Disco Matanga’ a dance done a day before a funeral where people do sex with any partner in belief to replace the dead but which spreads HIV/AIDS, they resolved to do rational and appropriate projects.
  7. Raiding and killing of neighbors during raiding results in many children left as orphans and very young women as widows. So no more raiding. Social projects would immediately start for both women and men, as women will train men on initiating income generating projects.
  8. Women decided that they will present poems in public forums, teaching how important women are and, given a chance, they can sustain families.

There arose a question about intermarriages. One member of Turkana said that their girls get married to Pokots 80%, but Pokots give only 10% to  Turkana. One woman quickly stood up and said, “When we Pokots get married to your boys, once the women get to old age after giving birth, according to your culture, you kill them, so this is why we don’t get married to you.” The room was deadly silent.

I called upon one of the old men who was a moran (warrior) escort to tell us the way forward. He said, “That was the only good we knew before we came here. It has dawned on us that you women are just like us and even better because several of you take care of families after the death of husbands. You still bear with us when we take you like our wealth of cows and goats. You bear with us when we marry many of you in a homestead and leave you without taking care of you and your children. Now that we have known how valuable you could have been and having learned what we have learned, we shall revisit our culture and discard those parts that overlook and demean you women. It is important that when we leave here we call a forum to put things in order.” Everybody shouted with joy. It was very impressive to see women come forward to tell what they have done to keep the lives of their children moving. 

There was one who some years ago after the first training started an Early Childhood Development School. Partnering with her husband who is one of our facilitators, a pastor and now appointed as an assistant chief, the school has grown to a secondary school.  She was kicked out when the school grew, but she vowed to start another school the same way. She said, “Women are donors of brains and visions but men have refused to accept.” The male representatives of different groups stood and said, “From now on, we are partners, and even in any public meeting, we shall listen when you share your ideas.” The women sang and sang.

When we came to the close of the seminar, one moran (young warrior) stood and boldly came forward. He said, “’No more guns, no more killing, but the Bible.” He came and knelt down and lifted his hands up ready to get saved. All the rest did the same and women sang praises. He got saved and 10 others confessed they want “the Bible way”. They do not know salvation. They said, ‘You Mum (Josephine), you have regarded us with respect even if we are dirty. You always ask whether we have had enough food and you don’t eat until we have eaten. You have taught us about a God who is very different from our gods of the sun, moon, mountains, lakes and the rivers. All our gods have been created by your God,. We want this God who is not as evil as us who have oppressed our women. Tell your God to accept us and we shall liberate these women of ours.” It was so touching.

I called upon one of the reverends who had come to join us to close the training officially and he prayed for them. They conducted a song in their vernacular and wrapped a green sheet on me and three of our facilitators as a sign that they have discarded all the evil they have been doing to women and girls. They promised to change and utilize every untapped resource to do development with women. One elder said that every one of his girls that will be married in his locality shall be given land to plow just like he would do to his sons.

I had ordered a cake for them to cut for the women as a sign of faithfulness to their vows. Both communities cut the cake and fed the women. They fed me, too, and it was great.

The funding done for such forums is God-planned because such a training was the first of its kind and the attitude towards women totally changed. The women felt so empowered that they sang songs of liberation and deliverance. They will now go to facilitate those interior areas that have women still downtrodden.”

I belive we have been privileged to read an account of God doing a miracle among some of the hardest African tribal people to reach with the gospel.  It has been done through Transformational Development teaching. I know you are praising God for being allowed to read this testimony of what He has done. To God be the glory.

I will add that if you feel so moved to help Josephine in her many endeavors to teach in her community, you can visit this website to help support her. 

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They’re just kids wanting to go to school

02 Friday Oct 2015

Posted by judge525 in AIDS in Africa, Hope for Life Kenya, Orphans

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Throwback Thursday: They’re just kids

In 2004, I began to develop a heart for those suffering from HIV/AIDS. I am reminded of that fact in two ways today. I am thinking of some teenagers at Hope for Life- Kenya who are AIDS orphans and I am wondering if they all had the funds to start school this fall as school started for them, as it does here.

hish school students at Hope for Life

What would it be like to not have parents who can support you as you head into your teens… and your future… with no means to go to high school? The fees are high, but all these kids have tested well and qualify. These kids know what that insecurity is like. My heart breaks for those who have such an unsure future. We can do something to help. Are you able to help one of these kids?

The other reminder about how God developed my heart for those affected by AIDS in Africa comes from my dear friend and former boss at Willow Creek, Steve Haas published a piece for World Vision, where he now works as Chief Catalyst. He traces his own journey with AIDS in sub-Sahara Africa. In the early years of this millenium when mission agencies and relief organizations were first waking up to the pandemic that was infecting and affecting about 30% of all folks in sub-Sahara Africa, the church in America was barely awake. In the next eleven years, that fact changed. And the face of AIDS is changing every day. There is so much more hope.

Steve puts it this way.

Rather than attempting to charge up the mountain of Christian ignorance and stigma head-on, a sure recipe for short discussions and abbreviated advocacy engagement, we plotted a course that took the Church on a journey: passing along the story of the AIDS affected and infected children and the young families we serve. In private conversations and public presentations, and with aggressive invitations we opened up the Scripture to what has always been our call to reach out to the vulnerable and in solidarity place ourselves underneath their burden. –

Reading this article made me recall how hard it was for me, a new missions pastor at Wheaton Bible Church, to take on this challenge. We started down the information track by telling our church the facts and people listened and God opened their hearts.

There was good news by 2005 as the church gave generously and blessed our new Heart for AIDS ministry. We created a new partnership with a fledgling group of pastors and orphan care workers in Nakuru, Kenya. I could go on and on about what happened there. Revisit some former posts.  Some of you know personally as you have been there with one of the teams we have taken. Hope for Life-Kenya is still one of the healthiest ministries I know…working on behalf of its impoverished community and seeing great strides in caring for orphans, widow, and in community development.

But the good news is that, though we haven’t done it like World Vision through child sponsorships, we actually started teen school sponsorships….as of last summer, we have found 15 sponsors for kids’ high school fees. There are 15 others who need your help. Click here to learn how. 

We have taken a holistic approach to the needs of orphans and widows since 2004. And the children who came to the center we built to host after school programs and lunch time meal programs in 2006 are now teenagers doing well in school. Year after year, Hope for Life is launching committed followers for Jesus Christ into the communities who know responsibility, who know how to minister to others, who take care of their younger siblings, and who serve in their churches and communities. They are learning about God’s ways and life skills at Hope for Life that give them the courage to make good decisions and refrain from risky behavior. They are loved and cared for by adults who are committed to them. But they need our financial assistance. Please consider supporting one of these kids by clicking here. Tell a friend about supporting one of these kids. Read their stories in past pages on this blog.

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On this Mother’s Day let’s remember motherless children

08 Friday May 2015

It’s way overdue. I promised to introduce you to some high school kids from Hope for Life Kenya. On this Mother’s Day weekend, I have been thinking about these kids. So many of them have lost their mothers to HIV and AIDS. Many fathers have either died or have foresaken the difficulties of family life plagued with illness and have left. They may or may not come back, but often don’t return until children are past school age, when the kids can take care of him. It’s a common story.

Children never stop needing a mother. God has blessed these 125 children at Hope for Life with a surrogate mother, as only God could do. The director of Hope for Life (HFL) Josephine, has become “mother” to over a hundred kids. Along with her staff helpers, she chose these kids from the neighborhood because of their dire need. She keeps track of them, visits their homes (where many have grandmothers taking care of them), makes sure they have uniforms for school. She oversees their daily food needs and their health needs. She pours her life into them. She teaches them the Bible and how to live a Christ-centered life…all with a great sense of humor and calm. She loves them deeply….all in Jesus’ name. Most come to faith in Christ personally at a very young age. Her mothering and nurturing skills are amazing. hopeforlife.juliandkellyphotos-12 The kids flock to her for a hug or ask her for counsel about life issues. They need her like every kid needs a mom. Josephine is their mom, their hero. She is my hero. I want to help her help these kids. They need our help to stay in school…no they don’t have behavior problems, but they have financial problems….you see they have to pay some hefty shillings (dollars) to go to high school…they have to pass exams and apply to high schools like we do for college.  Because of Josephine and her value of education, 31 kids studied hard and have qualified for high school.

There is a simple way to help by clicking this link to Faith and Learning International.

Anyway… let me introduce you to some of the high schoolers. Most of these interviews were taken in January by the GO Team from Wheaton Bible Church and are spoken in their own words:

Kezia has been a part of Hope for Life for nearly 10 years. Since she was a little girl she feels that getting a good hot meal every day has been very impactful on her life. As she has gotten older the other huge blessing is getting help with her school fees. Now that she is in boarding school, she comes to Hope For Life on weekends and plays piano and sings at church. She hopes to be a musician when she grows up.

Kezia

Kezia

At home Kezia helps with cooking, especially loves to make chapatis and ugali. She cares for the cows and really loves animals. At HFL she works in the garden on occasion and mostly helps in the kitchen. When asked if the girls always cook and the boys work in the garden, she laughed and said the girls try to mix it up, but the boys aren’t very good in the kitchen. She has learned to knit and dress hair at HFL and now shaves the boys heads during her vocational skill training on Saturdays.

kellylemonphotography.interviews.michael-1

Michael

Michael is 17 years old and has been a part of the Hope for Life family since he was 8. His 16 year old sister Kezia is also at HFL. He is in his second year of high school and likes school a lot, especially Chemistry and Math.  Someday he would like to be a cashier, as he is very good with numbers. On the weekends, Michael takes computer classes and electrical skills classes at HFL. He also helps with the children, but his greatest love and talent is in music playing at church either on the keyboard or drums. He loves to sing and is in the gospel dance troop at church as well. Michael and Kezia’s mother is HIV+ and there are 4 in the family. His mother ran away when the kids were young but has returned and reconciled with the grandmother. Once Michael was sent away from school for lack of school fees and he ran away and became a shepherd, but life was so difficult that he returned. He is back in school and growing into a very responsible and teachable young man.

kellylemonphotography.interviews.daniel-1

Daniel “Mbugua”

Mbugua’s  mother died when he was 4 years old and his younger sister Virginia was 2. At that time he was very sick, suffering from a severe skin problem.  After the mother died, the four children joined Hope For Life. Josephine helped with his medication to heal his skin problem. But after 6 years the father of the first 2 siblings showed up and said he wanted to take his children. He was HIV+. His older sister ran away.

Mbugua was terribly affected when his older siblings were gone and he and Virginia were left behind to live with the grandparents. Although he struggles in school because of the stressful environment at home, he graduated from 8th grade and has made it to high school. He plays the keyboard in church, sings and composes music. He is also a good dancer in church worship dance group.  Mbugua wants to be an airplane mechanic.

Josephine and Virginia

Josephine and Virginia

His sister Virginia has “adopted” Josephine as her mother and frequently leaves her grandparents to stay with Josephine. I have known Virginia since she was 4 and she has grown into a wonderful teenager with a bright and godly spirit.

God has rescued these motherless children by sending Josephine to their neighborhood. Now they are adopted into His family forever. To be adopted as sons of Jesus Christ is a concept that will take us until eternity to fully comprehend. The truth is that when I am around the children from Hope for Life Kenya, I get a glimpse of spiritual adoption from many angles. God cares about these children like the father that He is.

Galatians 4:5-7 ESV 

To redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God.

Matthew 18:5 ESV 

“Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me,…”

   

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Posted by judge525 | Filed under AIDS in Africa, Hope for Life Kenya, Orphans

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Throwback Thursday: A Kijabe Medical Centre story

26 Thursday Mar 2015

Posted by judge525 in AIDS in Africa

≈ 1 Comment

This story introduced my husband Jim to many African realities in the early 90’s…the story of this AIDS crisis came from an opportunistic disease that takes the lives of so many young vibrant Africans.

From a year’s worth of experiences like these, understanding took hold in our minds and hearts. Passion developed that year and for the next 23 years…we have been called to ministry in Africa, called to teach AIDS prevention messages, called to serve widows and orphans in the center of the world’s AIDS pandemic, Africa. 

Dr. Judge, you are needed in the emergency department. There is a patient there”. The message was delivered with the same intonation one might use to convey any routine piece of information, like the day will be seventy-two and sunny, or the trash needs to be emptied. Over the next several months, I learned there were certain code words I needed to listen for. A patient who “might need some sutures” usually had a laceration three inches deep and ten inches long. A patient who “was having trouble breathing” had already been dead for about an hour. The code word here was, “You are needed—” which I would come to understand meant, “We’ve got a big problem.” The worker just stood there after delivering the message, which I took as my clue to get moving.

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I finished up quickly with the older lady I was seeing and then followed the worker to the emergency ward located about fifty feet down the hall. There, lying on her side on a gurney, working very hard to breathe between spasms of coughing, was a woman in her twenties. There were beads of sweat pouring over her face despite the tomblike cold of the hospital. Each new spasm of coughing convulsed her whole body and ended in a violent eruption of saliva and mucous. As I approached, she gave me a quick, almost cautionary look, as if she was trying to warn me of something, without diverting her central attention from the essential task at hand, her next breath. She wore a tattered cardigan sweater over a worn dress, and her cheap plastic shoes were caked heavily with the red Kenyan mud. The worker in the emergency room told me that, while waiting to be seen, she had collapsed. Her eyes were wild, a look I recognized as air hunger, and as I placed my stethoscope on her hot back I knew why. Everywhere I listened, with each breath came the crackling sound one might hear if you were crinkling cellophane. There was no part of her chest that was not full of it. She had an overwhelming pneumonia. I continued my exam and quickly discovered there was something more. She was, at least by size, approximately seven months pregnant. I asked the dispenser for a Doppler device so I could hear the baby’s heartbeat. It was there, but much faster than it was supposed to be—the child was sharing in the mother’s distress. The young woman was very thin and wasted, as if she hadn’t eaten in a long time. Her arms were delicate and there was no tone to her flesh, almost like she was ninety years old. As I pondered all this, someone from the lab came in with results of some tests that were ordered earlier by the outpatient dispenser. Her white-blood-cell count was very high, reflecting the severity of her infection. She also was significantly anemic. The final test result stopped me in my tracks. It was her HIV test. It was positive.

Hope began to drain away. Any help we could provide would be, at best, temporary. We might be able to treat her current infection, maybe long enough to get her delivered. The statistical likelihood that the baby was also HIV-positive was about one in three. Frankly, in Africa, those aren’t bad odds. Odds we would have to take. I noticed, with the result of her HIV test, came a subtle change in the Kenyan workers’ attitudes toward her. Some element of reserve began to seep into their demeanor, some need to hold her at arm’s length. Maybe it was nothing more than self-protection. Compassion costs, and in a world where death is a daily reality, a world not laboring under the myth that everyone lives forever, compassion becomes a commodity that needs to be spent with care.

The young woman’s story began to unfold. This was my first lesson in how much Africans have to teach us about obtaining a medical history. I think it comes from their holistic perspective on life, a perspective often lacking in the more developed world. To ask questions of someone only about their symptoms would be considered rude and incomplete. A routine medical history would always include inquiries about where patients came from and their families, what kind of work they did, and how they were feeling in general. In other words, about their whole lives. This patient was a schoolteacher from a small hamlet several hours away. She had been engaged. Her fiancé was a truck driver, a high-risk occupation in Kenya even before the AIDS epidemic, between bandits and road conditions and the chronic disrepair of vehicles. After the AIDS epidemic hit, the life expectancy of truck drivers went down one more notch because of the common association of prostitution with truck stops. At that point in time, prostitutes in Nairobi had already been documented as averaging over 90 percent HIV-positive. Truck drivers were running almost 70 percent positive. Because of the different strain of HIV present in Africa and factors like poor nutrition, AIDS is a different, even more aggressive illness there. Her fiancé had died several months earlier, and soon after his death, she had become ill. She was unaccompanied by any family, which meant she had likely experienced rejection on all levels.

I grasped her hand as I started to work through the interpreter, and she almost recoiled. It was apparent it had been a long time since any other human had touched her. Her hand was cold and damp, but eventually she began to relax and grasp me back. I looked at her intently, working the language through my interpreter.

“Tell her she has an infection in her lungs that is very serious.” A string of foreign words echoed mine, in a tone less compassionate than I would have hoped for. “Tell her that we will need to start an IV to give her some strong medicine to treat the infection.” The nurse interpreted and the young teacher nodded. “Tell her we will need for her to stay in the hospital for a while.” A deep sense of relief flooded over her and a weak smile. “Tell her—tell her that her baby’s heartbeat is strong.” It was partial information, partially true. I couldn’t bring myself to place any more on her than she was already carrying.

She nodded once more, this time more strongly than before. I put on a pair of gloves and started her IV. As the blood flashed into the catheter, a small amount escaped as I connected her IV line. I noticed the nurse stiffen. I taped the IV down myself. Then I wrote some orders and returned to the outpatient clinic…

We were just finishing up the day in the clinic when a knock at the door came. You are needed in the woman’s ward…the patient with pneumonia has delivered her child.

It was a tiny little girl. She was cold. I felt for a pulse but there was none. A resuscitation would serve no purpose. I then turned to the mother and found her also to be without any heartbeat, any respirations. I leaned down and slowly turned off the valve on the oxygen tank. The nurse told me that just moments after delivering the dead child, the mother had simply closed her eyes and stopped breathing. It was as if as soon as she knew there was no further hope for her child, she had permission to do what she had been working at doing for the last several months—die….

“What was the point,” was the question pounding in my own head as I walked down the hall to the utility closet to wash up. What had we done for her? As I scrubbed my hands with the gritty Kenyan soap, I recalled a story I had read about Mother Teresa. She was being interviewed by a Canadian TV talk-show host, a shallow, provocative man. He asked her this question: “What real good are you doing? These people who come to you. These people you find in the gutters and the streets, you bring them to your hospital and they die.

“What’s the point?” Mother Teresa looked at him intently, burning through his shameful facade, and then after a heavy moment, in her thick Albanian accent, asked her own question: “Do not these people, who have lived their whole lives like dogs, deserve to die like angels?” She said nothing more. And neither did her interviewer.

I thought about the young woman in the room I had just left. I thought about her in her clean gown, on her soft bed, in her large bright room. Under her warm blankets. And Mother Teresa’s words echoed in the back of my mind. To die like angels. Maybe sometimes, this was all we would be able to do. Maybe sometimes, this would have to be enough. I made my way down the stairs, out the back door of the hospital. The sun was beginning to set behind the western mountains off in the distance, and the wind was blowing at my back. I followed the path home, through the graveyard.

Excerpts from Chapter 3…Judge, James (2001-09-10). Unfamiliar Territory (Kindle Locations 644-645), Thomas Nelson, Kindle Edition.

unfamiliar territory cover

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