Harrowing tales of life at home

WHAT’S COOKING: me in the kitchen with Mama Mary

Chron sports writer Matt has joined an expedition to Kenya for Oldham Athletic Community Trust’s 25th anniversary celebrations. The 10-day mission involves working in a local school as classroom assistants, football coaching and building work.

IT is ironic that in a country where corruption among top politicians is rampant, stealing is considered one of the worst crimes.

When the shout of “thief” goes up, gangs of vigilantes have been known to chase down the alleged perpetrator and beat them to death.

Sadly, one of the children at the Hadassah School has set down on that dangerous path.

Eight-year-old Pauline, who has a smile so kinetic it should be hooked up to Nakuru’s temperamental power grid, was kept away for our giving ceremony due to her pilfering 100 shillings (around 80p) from a teacher’s bag. She returned the next day after her mother met with Pastor Joffrey.

Classmate Agnes was able to make it, as clothes, shoes and toys were distributed to the children — many of whom are usually dressed in little more than rags.

She picked up a snazzy new pair, replacing a set of sandals with broken buckles. A little girl who loves nothing more than to race at speed around the Hadassah grounds no longer has to curl her toes to prevent ragged footwear from flying off into the dust.

The most needy — the school has many orphans and some HIV victims — got themselves kitted out first on a bittersweet afternoon.

With so much need in every direction there was a feeling of helplessness among the delight of donating among the OACT volunteers.

It is heartbreaking to think of the conditions these children live in at home. Some have mothers who work as prostitutes, who come home only in the early hours of the morning if at all. Their life prospects are not good.

Joffrey told us one particular harrowing tale. The HIV-positive mother of a child with the same

condition was given money by the school for drugs.

She went for the cheap option of painkillers instead of seeking proper medical advice the school paid for, her intention being to beg with her sick child. Within a week, both were dead. The child went first.

On a more upbeat note, I spent one morning with Mama Mary — close to a living saint in my book — cooking up the two square meals provided for its 202 pupils.

Sweet porridge — “uji” — for breakfast is followed by a maize and beans lunch and the power of this simple diet should not be underestimated given the energy the children expend during every school day.

Cleaning the huge cooking pot afterwards using twigs was a new experience. The group bought her some scouring pads later.

Small improvements are the best we can really hope for here.





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