My love for Street Kids: One in a hundred success story!

             When I arrived in Kenya six weeks ago, I couldn’t wait to set foot on the grounds of Tumaini Drop in Center for Street Kids again.  Although the center represents a sad reality for a great need to care for children that are orphaned and living on the street; the center for me represents a place of happiness as Tumaini is where I spent a lot of my time during my first visit to Kenya in 2011 .  Many people look at street kids and only see there outward appearance, their dirty torn clothes, barefoot and some with one hand holding on to a bottle containing 10 shillings worth of glue.  As some of the street kids sniff glue in an effort to become euphoric and forget about the daily hunger and hardship that they face.  The almost two months I spent at Tumaini however, taught me so much more than that; that the street kids I met at Tumaini were unexpectedly inspiring, they were resilient, strong, courageous, clever and not to mention quite funny.  I will never forget one girl, called Elizabeth that use to come to the center, one day I said to her, “Elizabeth you really need to attend class so you can learn English”.  In Kiswahili she responded with something I could tell was a clever response.  After the Kenyan teachers at the center, took a breath from laughing, they translated to me that her response was “And Sashana, you need to learn Swahili so if the police arrest you, you can beg for your freedom”.   I couldn’t help but laugh too at her clever but honest response as this was a real issue that these kids faced every day.  The police claiming to be removing the kids from the streets for their own benefit but doing so in a forceful and brutal manner, at times even breaking limbs to get their message across to the street kids.  Each child had a different story but in so many ways the same, ending up on the street from losing their parents to HIV/AIDs, post-election violence or being in a home with too many mouths to feed, leaving to fend for themselves, and becoming responsible for their own well being way to early in life.  On the street there are no rules, no bed time, no "rites of passage" needed to earn privileges in life, it’s a “YOLO” do what you please type of mentality and semi-society constructed the kids that live on the street.  Streets paved with the freedom to eat what you want when you want, even if that means scraping it out of a fly swarmed garbage bin or begging from people on the street.  Boys become men at the age of 10 years old, trained by the older street boys who bully the younger boys into begging and stealing, kids essentially earning their way into a newly constructed family structure, the street gang.  My heart hurts especially for the girls, so vulnerable, so fragile, so easily broken, forced into prostitution or chosen as the easiest way to earn a living on the streets.

You rarely get success stories out of such devastating circumstances, but the goal of Tumaini Drop-in-center is to help street kids transition from street life into a structured society, helping them to go back to school to get an education or to learn a skill if they are pass secondary school level that can help them earn a honest living.  As I sat there with the office of the Director of the center, he showed me pictures and told stories of kids I knew from 3 years ago some were sad, but some were great stories of those that had successfully left the streets.  One such story was of Bill, a charismatic and determined young man I remembered from my time at Tumaini.  He never sniffed glue and rarely engaged in mischievious behavior on the streets.  So when I helped Tumaini start the Brombig/Sizmbig program in 2011, naturally Billie grasped tightly at the opportunity to earn points in this team building program to get the opportunity to be enrolled in school.  I remember Bill especially because he would argue for his points if he thought they weren't calculated properly and really worked hard to be one of the best kids at the center that would follow the rules, stay away from drugs and always be in attendance in the academic classes at Tumaini.  So imagine my excitement when one of the teachers at Tumaini asked me if I would go with her to see Billie at his boarding school.  It was hard maneuvering my schedule at the hospital to take a day off, especially since I have realized as a senior medical student you play a large role in the care of your patients, and if you fail to play an active role in this low resource over populated hospital, it could occasionally mean the difference between life and death.  With all my assigned patients in stable condition, I jumped at the opportunity to go see Bill at his school several hours away.

 As we traveled to Bondo in the morning, another community about 4 hours South of Eldoret, Kenya, my bladder suddenly became heavy.  I guess having Kenya  tea and passion fruit Fanta wasn’t the best thing to do for the morning drive; and going over the multiple-segmented speed bumps in quick succession didn’t help either.  I leaned forward from the backseat of the car to ask our driver Kibet to stop at the nearest toilet (bathroom or restroom are not common words used here).  Since the road miles ahead seemed to be filled with green grass, trees and mountains on both sides of the road, Kibet answered in a gentle voice, “Are you okay using the natural toilet?”  There was a pause, as my eventful mind only took seconds to imagine myself being snatched from the bushes and captured into an unwanted marriage by any Kenyan man who would see the sun reflecting off my well-formed Derrière.  None the less, I followed Carol, the teacher I was accompanying to Bondo, into the bushes.  Immediately I understood what Kibet meant by natural toilet; there was something almost too natural and freeing about using the natural toilet, I giggled as I hid there in the bushes, and began to reminisce on my childhood in Jamaica, memories of the other times I have used the natural toilet.  If you need a stress reliever, I recommend peeing outside, it just brings a certain happiness, that probably explains why drunk people pee in public.  Just don't mistake your neighbors lawn for the location to get this "freeing" experience as that may not go over well.

Seeing Bill 4 hours later was nothing short of worth the drive and the bladder abuse I experienced with my continuously full bladder and the crazy speed bumps.  It was quite interesting clearing security at the school and seeing the extensive barbwire fence that surrounded the all boys secondary school.  This explains why we stopped at the hardware store and loaded the trunk with barbwire in an effort to mend relationship with the school, who were punishing Bill for sneaking out of school over the Christmas Holiday.  Apparently the school thought it was a fair penalty for him to replace the barbwire he must of ruined when he and some other students left the premises without permission.  After Bill collected the barbwire from the trunk and delivered it to the principal we sat and talked for some time.  To my surprise he remembered me just as much as I remembered him.  He told me of his aspirations of wanting to become a neurosurgeon, which reminded me that Bill had won, as a monthly prize in the Brombig/Sizmbig program, the book “Gifted hands” by Ben Carson, when he earned the most points for that month at Tumaini Drop-in-center.  The same book that helped me believe that a little girl from Jamaica could one day become a doctor, seemed to have also inspired a little boy from Kenya that he too could do the same.  Just like Dr. Carson, the world-renown pediatric neurosurgeon, who hailed from a poor community in Michigan.

We drove a total of 8 hours by car, and paid KES$8,000 to spend 30 minutes with Bill on his lunch break, but it was more than worth it.  Sometimes in life we set out to do something small, sometimes pouring ourselves into it, with many hours, days, even weeks spent working at a one particular goal, and you just never know how it will change someone else's life.  Many times we can't see any benefit from the work we do, because we fail the count the one out of maybe a 100 people that will actually benefit from our work.  But we should marvel at the one out of a hundred success stories; I am pretty sure am one of those, since I too was inspired by Dr. Carson and so many others before me who demonstrated that neither poverty, hardship or hard work couldn't keep them from accomplishing their dreams.  “You can be a neurosurgeon Bill, and I will help you, do you know I become a doctor in 3 months?  Me a little girl from Jamaica, that’s how I know you can do it.”  He smiled and responded, “Yes I believe you, let me say congratulations now.”  I hope I never forget Bill, and that he will never forget me.  Now my promise to Bill is to help him with text books, uniforms and a little encouragement on the side.  If you are interested in learning more about the Tumaini center for street kids please visit their website at www.tumainicenter.org

Bill carrying the Barbwire to Principal's office

PHOTOS FROM TUMAINI DROP-IN-CENTER FOR STREET KIDS

" There is no easy walk to freedom anywhere, and many of us will have to pass through the valley of the shadow of death again and again before we reach the mountaintop of our desires" Nelson Mandela 

~Enjoy Sash’s Stash of In My Own Words~

Peace & Love,

Sash