Parents

June 20, 2010

Today is Father's Day in America so it seems fitting to talk about parents.  Many of us were fortunate to have parents throughout childhood, and only when we became adults did we have to deal with the pain of letting go.  However, even in America, there are many who experienced that loss as children, and the scars and the pain last a lifetime.  I have seen it in my own mother who lost both her parents as a baby and many subsequent caretakers after that.  Now I am reminded that I left not just home, job, and civilization, but also family, when I came to Tanzania.  My father is having heart problems and I am half a world away.

You may remember that I told you I have two students staying with me temporarily.  They are wonderful girls and through our conversations, I have learned that Fidesta is an orphan.  She told me that her young brother is living at their family home alone.  I felt like I needed to go and see him, so yesterday Cheryl, Fidesta, and I made the journey.  It was quite a hike, and I would not have found my way without Fidesta as a guide.  When we were near the home, we saw a small boy playing with a plastic bag ball on the path ahead.  When he saw Fidesta, his face lit up, and he ran to embrace her.  The boy was Yuda, her young brother. He took her bag and ran off to the house.  When we arrived, he had washed his face and put on clean clothes.  He and Fidesta brought out stools for us to sit on, and as I talked to him, I surveyed his environment.  Fidesta did the same, and I saw the distress on her face.  I sat near her, gave her a hug and wiped her tears.
Indeed, her little brother, Yuda, is living alone in a small wood shack.  In the darkness of the sitting room, I saw a picture of Jesus and the Last Supper hanging on the wall.  I wondered when Yuda had had his last supper.  I asked him about food.  He had not eaten that day (It was 3 or 4 in the afternoon).  He eats one meal a day at school.  This was a weekend, so I guess he does not eat at all.  I gave him a bottle of cooking oil and a kilo of rice.  I also gave him a loaf of banana bread that I had baked for him that morning.  He was fighting tears.  Fidesta commented that he had not been keeping things clean. Cheryl asked him when he studies.  He said only at school.  (He has no electricity and no money).  I noticed how small he was and I told him that he was a very brave boy to stay here all alone.  (There is an old man who is farming their land and he lives in a shack nearby, but he only comes around at night).  I told Yuda that if he needed anything at all, he was to tell Madame Cheryl and we would help him.  Then I gave him an extra special gift, a yellow soccer jersey that a friend of mine had sent.  For a moment, his mouth stopped quivering and, again, his eyes lit up.  The shirt was a bit big, but for him it was a treasure.

After visiting with Yuda, we all went to visit the grandparents.  The grandparents are old and discouraged, poor and uneducated.  They have been left with too many orphaned grandchildren.  The grandfather tries to hide from his problems by drinking pombe (alcohol).  Fidesta said he was nice to us because we are wazungu, but usually he throws rocks at them and does not give them any food or money.  She and Yuda do not like to go there.  The grandfather was very friendly (taking my hand and spitting on it as he gives thanks to God is a new custom that I have not experienced before) but I could see that she could be right.  It would not be a safe environment for a young woman or a young boy.

I am glad that I went to visit Yuda, although it may have been the most difficult thing I have done so far in Tanzania.  I wish I could say that this was an unusual case, but it is not.  It is so common, not just here, but in all of Africa.  Children living alone, growing up without parents, without guidance, without love.  They are so vulnerable to so many dangers (environmental and human).  I read a statistic recently; 117 children die each day from malnutrition in Tanzania.  How do we save the children?

In the early morning, I had a revelation.  Victoria and Fidesta have both told me that before they met me, they had been praying to God for someone to help them.  Did He send me?  I have often wondered what I really have to give.  Now I think that maybe God gave me the gift of faith so that I may show love, and in that way, maybe it is possible to give others hope.

I will find a way to help Fidesta and Yuda.  Meanwhile, today celebrate your father (and your mother) whether living or passed and thank God for their love.