Esther interviews school children in drought-hit northern Kenya, who have been able to continue their education thanks to a reliable delivery of safe water.
God really does have a sense of humour. I’m a nervous flyer - always have been. Yet I’ve travelled for work for most of my career. And this overseas trip had extra anxiety attached: two local flights on a tiny five-seater plane.
For a whole week I’d been thinking about them, my stomach churning with fear. Only focusing on the bigger picture kept my emotions in check. What I was in Kenya to do?
I had to get on that tiny plane from Nairobi to Marsabit, northern Kenya, as the two-hour journey took us to thousands of people whose stories needed to be told.
These were rural families who had absolutely nothing. The driest region in Kenya, Marsabit has received three days maximum of rain a year since 2009. Animal carcasses litter the scorched red earth and despair is etched into people’s faces. But still they maintain their dignity as no one begs, though who could blame them if they did. Perhaps they’re just too exhausted and too hungry.
Suddenly all my fears about flying, plus my hotel room with the flimsy door lock (also on the list of anxieties keeping me awake at night) had been put into perspective.
I don’t understand why there is so much suffering in the world. But I understand that we serve an awesome God who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all we can ask or think. My mind was now clearly fixed on praying for rain and finding words of comfort for the people I met during my three-day stay.
Learning to dream again
Diram Huqa, aged 45, was one of those people. She has nine children and doesn’t look well: her eyes are sore, probably from all the dust. Diram says she has never seen such a terrible drought. Her children are thankfully still alive, but all 35 of her cows have died and her five donkeys have suffered the same fate.
Distraught, she walks us the short distance to her land to show us her last donkey that died the night before. Tearfund funds a water truck that comes to her village. She thanks us for this but goes on to say: ‘Since the drought, nothing is good, every day is sad, I haven’t been able to farm anything for five years. I eat one little meal a day, but it’s not enough.’
I struggle sometimes on my trips because I am a storyteller, not a hardened emergency relief person distributing aid. People will never see an immediately obvious benefit from talking to me, so the goal is always to leave hope behind. I looked into Diram’s eyes and let her know that people living miles away are praying for her.
I am so grateful for the privilege of being able to travel to remote places and thank God for the ability to overcome my fears and bring back the stories of people who are suffering, so they are not forgotten. Because, actually, these are more than stories, they are real people who once had dreams and plans for the future, just like us. So it’s my Christian duty to play my part in helping these communities to learn to dream again.
A prayer: Lord, we lift Diram and all people who have lost loved ones, livestock and livelihoods in East Africa. Give thanks that Tearfund partners are making a life-saving difference, even if – in some cases – it’s just buying time for communities to find their feet once again. And we pray for longer term work: that resilience will be built and economic injustice challenged. Amen.