Our normal humanity errands as Kenya RedCross Youth went on to this one peculiar day at Tabarak Childrens home in Bakarani, Kisauni area. I was quite slaggish to get up for it in the morning, but the thought that I would remain bored with nothing much to do at home pulled me to go. I didn't regret the step. Not at all. The fun we have when doing such community integrating activities is wholesome. The networks with youth, not forgetting working together for the orphanage and the little kids. Am always proud that I got the little heart. Am not employed, neither do I own a fleet of cars but am steered to do it, for the kids everlasting hope and initiating a new leaf of joy for the day and the year precisely.
We got trekking briskly to the orphanage and here we are! It looked way less of what I expected. It was better in many ways, compared to the others we'd come across. Tiled compounds and rooms. The rooms looked like a middle class boarding school cubes. With Meccan names on it, Mina, Muzdalifa there was also Jeddah! What a place, I thought. There was a shop outside that helped the owner bring up the kids from the profits earned, then she had a sewing room for girls and anyone from the public at a certain fee. Very nice Idea I would think.
The fun was more or less like any other. Laughter and the air that is never around the home on normal days. We resolved to making them pilau. Ladies and guys on it, even those who had never smelled raw meat had the all on the day. It was such a huge pot- I guess 20 to 25 kilograms. The sweet caretaker was explaining how they like it made. When you in Rome, do what Romans do, yeah, but again change is better than rest! Let's hit the most knowledge of the kitchen we got now. As others swept the compound, played with kids, sang to fine tunes and also took endless selfies. Living the moment we say.
It didn't take much time to get done cooking and doing other chores. As soon as we were done we got to dancing-I mean real dancing. You would have thought its Sakata Version in Mombasa. We laughed it all out. It was indeed a rib hurting moment. So our caterers were ready. In groups of two kids per two of us we got to our eating positions. Unfortunately, I was the last to sit, I just got one tiny beautiful lad to eat with, Rahma was her name.
As my friend and I sat with Rahma, eating the most deliciously made meal, my friend remembers that her mom's name is the same too, what a coincidence! In ecstacy she jumps up and tells this to little Rahma who shows us this heartwarming curve of a smile! We ate, talking this or also that. We pampered her alot. The kind of pampering our mothers give us. In a while, less than ten minutes, she says she's really full. Like really. The little she's been eating. We wouldn't take that. So we try, soothingly, that she gets to eat most. The unexpected happened, she really got to tears. One of those cries that would make my lion heart tremble for a tear, it did. I was as touched. With no thought again carried her, hugged her, tried covering her scarf well and wiped her teary eyes and her running nose. The boil on her forehead wasn't pleasing. I tried all I could to give the most rare caresses to her. In a moment, she asked for water and fast sounded asleep. I watched her eyelashes lock innocently with a little smile of a kind of sleep she never gets. I wouldn't feel like I carried something, she was light and not so fine as health concerns.
Its not like my attention was all on Rahma, but it was like a sample to the others who I didn't get a closer look at. She took much of my attention and time. I was deeply engrossed in Rahma's world. Many questions in mind wishing I would just have her to pamper for the rest of my time. I didn't give her wealth neither did I give her money or changed my possession of little I had to her. It was little time, precisely less than a day, I touched a heart. I felt her in me. The mother figure is what they miss. The care and affection is what they call for. It was a well kept and very neat place but attention and love missed. They would rather sleep under trees but get the full love and recognition. There are more than forty eight young souls in the orphanage under one lady. As much as she tries sharing out to them, she still wouldn't satiate each one of their closeness needs. Kids are difficult to understand too, others would prefer attention, others being spoilt by gifts and others were cheeky in one unique way. There was one who took a colleague's phone and posed for selfies like Sofia in cartoons, then she would jump up saying she now looks like Sofia. What a moment she had! At most she will live to remember that she actually resembled her best cartoon.
The little we can do, the small time we have counts alot.
I have never felt as wanted and needed as I did with the little girl. I just couldn't face behind and hug her goodbye. I didn't want to, if only I would have her all for myself. I miss her alot, even as am writing this down I wished she would have slept in my laps. The sweet soul I wouldn't forget. At some point I really got to understand that some people will live in your heart not in your life. I pledge to be there on regular basis, to offer the warmth they need. I realised it doesn't take material to feel appreciated.
As Roger Dean says, It is not the physical pain that endangers orphans the most. It is the mental pain caused by stress from years and years of being neglected, pushed aside, disregarded, unloved, and made to feel undeserving, and in almost all cases, made to feel like a possession rather than an equal human being. Even more it is the lack of unconditional love, the right to be accepted, as a child and to be loved, as a child, no matter what you do is the most wounding.
