Sleeping on the streets

The evening started with a meeting to make sure we knew what we needed to know, which included where we would sleep, who was there to help, and what the exit strategy was in case something went wrong. We loaded up the car with our coal bags, these are a little more than large plastic bags that the boys use as blankets, and our scraps our cardboard to sleep on and headed into town. It was a rather funny attempt to get to where Peter, an Abaana staffer, had set up for us to met him, including several drives the wrong way on a one way street, being at the wrong gas station, and running through the streets. Eventually, we got the car parked and walked down to meet the boys they had already found for us to sleep with. We were just a half block from the taxi park and on a major road, but it was where we had good lighting. The police and the army had been informed that we would be there and were bribed to keep an eye on us. When we got there power was out, so it was quite dark. Our uncles with Abaana street reach had been gathering up street boys, but us just being on the streets was also drawing a lot of attention and word was getting out. Soon there were all kinds of boys surrounding us, and it was a bit unnerving. Many of you may know that a lot of street boys sniff gasoline to get high and help them go to sleep. So add to the dust and exhaust from the cars, the smell of gasoline all around you. I quickly began to have a head ache. While we continued to be surrounded by boys, I began to notice the younger kids and how uneasy they felt or at least looked. So feeling like I was in the same boat, I thought I would get near them to sort of protect them from the older boys and the ones who were high. Not to mention it gave me something to do to keep my mind of my growing uneasiness. After several meetings with the uncles, Peter ran off to buy food and drinks for all the boys. When he got back we handed it out and did our best not to start any fights. Robert, who is one of the largest uncles, began to ask some of the boys he had rounded up to leave and sending those who showed up to be fed on their way. This definitely helped with the atmosphere.
A zoo animal and Invisible children– One thing is for sure. I know what it feels like to be stared at. It is not considered rude to stare at people here, and being white gives people a reason to do it. So as it turned to after midnight and all the people where moving around the streets, everyone would gather around and just stare, boda drivers, business men and woman, people just walking the streets, and anyone else the crowd would draw. They would just stand at our feet and stare. Five minutes was about the amount of time for someone who stopped, but there was the occasional ten minute person. Again it was quite bothersome, and I didn’t feel as though I was getting a true picture of what a night on the street was like for the boys. I put the hood of my sweatshirt on so I wouldn’t have to see what all was going on and try to get a little sleep. While I was trying to become invisible, I noticed the boys around me were well on their way to sleeping. I realized that every night they became invisible. They would sleep right below people’s feet and conversations, and those people would never take a second glance at them. They would not stop and ask if they needed anything. In order to be able to sleep with so much commotion, they had to know that people didn’t see them in order to even go to sleep. I thought about what that must do to them mentally, to shut yourself down from being a person every night. I thought about the ones who had been there for years and how it must play with their identity and self worth. I looked around and saw those boys were already asleep. Then I noticed all the others who were still rolling around where boys who had not been on the street long, maybe less than 6 months, and they were not having an easy time falling asleep. That change in attitude is a critical part in the rescue of boys on the street. As soon as they begin to become comfortable and think there is no way out or have no hope for something better, or start to feel invisible, they are hard to rehabilitate and to even get off the street whether they like it there or not. It becomes a part of them. Therefore, it is very crucial to get to the boys who are new and help foster the drive in them for something better, as we work to get them off the streets. One boy we talked to, who was 10, came to the city with his brother and then his brother just left him on the streets. There was no reason and he had no way to get home even though he had been very happy there. Joshua was his name and this had happened a month ago. We decided that we could get him transportation home and so the next morning we took him to the New Life Homes and then our social worker checked in on his family. Monday he is headed home. He was so happy. He looked like a new child when we went to visit the homes later in the day after we had gotten some sleep. That’s one boy rescued from this life!
A new friend – While I was sitting there trying to be left alone and avoid the stares of everyone on the street, I looked up one time to see one of the boys starring at me. He had a rather rough look to him. He was quite a bit older and was just giving me the eye. I tried to go back to being invisible, I looked again 10 minutes later and he was leaning down trying to see under my hood. He leaned back and said hello. I responded. I asked him if he was tired and he said no. Great, I thought, he is going to stare at me all night. He then asked me how I was doing, and I said I was fine. I knew this was actually my chance to engage in a real conversation or end it with the next question so I jumped at it. “How are you doing?” “I am suffering,” was the response and I knew I had all I needed. When you find the ones who aren’t happy they are the ones who can be ministered to more effectively. I perked up and we started to talk. His name is Steven. HE came to the streets in 2003 we he was 11. His mother and father were both dead and his brothers had left. He asked him what he wanted me to do and he said anything, but mostly he wanted a job. I asked how he got food during the day and he told me he had made friend with several people who work in hotels. He would go and help or do odd jobs and they would feed him out of the kitchen. He told me he wanted to be either a doctor or a pastor. He spoke rather good English so asked him how far he had been in school. He had made it to P3 before he was forced to the streets. He told me that he would love to go to school because he couldn’t do anything without being educated. I then told him about Frontline at Calvary Chapel and about Abaana street reach where he could come get food, learn some more, and get help. I made him promise to met me on Tuesday at the soccer field and he told me he would if we could (side note when we got up the next morning and were leaving I said I’ll see you Tuesday, and he said I will see you later today at church. I smiled and told him I would not be at frontline today but he should go. He assured me that we would and I can’t wait to see him on Tuesday) He laid down beside me with his head resting on the concrete. I had taken my sweat shirt off since it was hot and so I moved half of it under his head to use as a pillow. He smiled at me really big. It didn’t take long before he was asleep. During the night we was rolling over and curling up to get warm so I gave him the sweat shirt to wear and then in the morning I told him he could keep it. He stood around me until we left with a big smile. I can’t wait to see him again and I pray he shows up so we can try to help him out of the situation he is in.
There were other stories and other friends. Like the boy who was kicked out of his house because his family was Muslim. Another was a great soccer player before he lost his family and came to the streets. He had only been on the streets for a little over a month and was worried someone would steal his shoes. He didn’t sleep until about 4 am when he saw that I was going to be up. He asked me if I would watch his shoes. When I told him yes, he went to sleep. Then there was Musha. He was 21 and had run a shop on the street in Tanzania selling phones. He came to Kampala two years ago to get a better deal on phones. He was mugged and had everything stolen. He has been stuck on the street ever since. He wears a big smile and asked if he could sleep with Scott. The next day when we were searching the trash and the streets for bottles I remembered the words to “We Fall Down” in Swahili,the language he speaks, and began to sing it. He got a huge smile and started to join me half way through. When it was over, he gave me a big hug. It made me think about when the spirit came at Pentecost and everyone heard the message in their own language and was in awe. Acts 2:5-8
It’s where you would have found Jesus and I did – One thing during the night that was quite interesting, were the times when people were yelling at us stupid muzungus for sleeping on the street. They would stop and stare and then yell at us for being there and sleeping on the streets. I thought about the reception Jesus got from the Pharisees and teachers of the law when he was found eating with the tax collectors and sinners (Luke 27-32) or even from His own disciples when people brought children to him. (Matthew 19:13-15). I imagine it was much the same. People were confused and didn’t know what to make of it. But I’m guessing it felt just right with him. Although I wasn’t comfortable it wasn’t because of how I felt about being there. I knew that was where I should be. During the night at 4am one of the little boys at the far end woke up and stretched. His eyes were barely open and then he looked at me. His eyes shot open. I smiled at him. Not a full smile, one to let him know I saw him. He then put a huge grin on his face and so did I. The look lasted about 5 seconds. He laid his head back down to go to sleep with a big smile. I could help but feel Jesus was smiling at me for being there at that time.
As the night went on and I still didn’t get any sleep. I thought about all the kids who do this every night, not just once. I thought about all the boys who sleep at the street reach programs and how it is frustrating. I thought about the uneasiness I felt and why I didn’t sleep. I realized that I should be more thankful for the boys who sleep at street reach. They know they are safe and are loved. What a great place to fall asleep and such a contrast from the streets. Where they are beaten and ignored. Finally it was time to get to moving. We wanted to know what the boy’s life is like so we asked them what they would do. Most of them walk the streets and collect bottles or scrap metal. They then take the bottles and metal to the slums to trade them in for money. So we took our coal bags that we slept in and started walking. We searched through the sewers and trash looking for bottles. It became fun to watch the boys enjoying the fact that we were helping them. After walking around for about two hours we made it into the slums to get the money. We then headed back to the cars to leave. We were all pretty tired and sore, but it had still be worth it. It means so much to gain a better understanding of what the boys we work with everyday go through. It meant a lot to them to see us doing it. I know it meant a lot to me. If you wanna help us continue the work we do with street kids you can go to ww.abaana.org to learn how you can be involved.
If you would like to read more from another prospective you can chack out other team member blogs Katie http://findthefield.blogspot.com Ryan http://beingrenovated.blogspot.com Malloory http://mountainhighvalleylo.blogspot.com