On our second to last day in Kenya we visited another Remember Nhu home in Nairobi. Our church does not directly support this home or any of the eighteen girls who live there, but we wanted to see their home, giving a “hello” and a bit of encouragement. After an exhausting day of travel on bumpy roads, we finally arrived at the gated home.
Our team was greeted by all of the young ladies and escorted to their living/dining room. The girls sat around the large table in the center and we surrounded them, sitting along the walls. Our Remember Nhu in-country contact–he is an amazing father-figure to the girls–gave a brief welcome and then asked all of the girls to introduce themselves. One by one they stood and began with a call and response:
Praise the Lord. {they said}
Amen. {everyone responded}
Praise the Lord once more. {they said}
Amen. {everyone responded}
Slowly they went around the table, telling their English names, their age, what year they were in school, and their dream. Many of them wanted to be doctors, one wanted to be a neurosurgeon, and others: a musician, an engineer, and an attorney. They spoke English very well, boldly with warmth and excitement for life. (A marked difference from the more quiet and reserved nature of the children at the other home we visited.) Once they finished, our team did the same: telling our names, ages, and a little about ourselves.
Next the girls each claimed a team member to give a tour around the building. It was a whirlwind of activity! I felt my arm grabbed by a beautiful smiling face as a new, sweet friend took possession of me and started in on the tour. She was such a delight! And she proudly showed me all of the rooms of their home, all of the bedrooms and who slept in each bunk bed, the balconies, the small yard, their one bike, the rows of school shoes and house shoes, and the kitchen where two house-moms were making dinner in two massive pots. All fourteen of our team were proudly shown the entire home–squishing in and out of the hallways with lots of loud talking and laughter.
I learned more about my friend as we toured: she is in year eight and will take her examinations at the end of the year in order to enter high school. She has lived at the home since it opened four years ago. Once we arrived back in the main living area, my friend showed me pictures of the girls lining the walls. And there also was a large posted list of all of them. It was so heartwarming to learn how the first girl to arrive was called the “firstborn”; my friend was the second, so she is the “secondborn,” and so on. They truly are a family!
Next, the girls sang to us. My sweet friend told me during the tour: “We are glorious!” And they were indeed. My friend was the one who dreamed of being a musician, and she had a couple of small solos. Such a lovely voice and smile and presence! Their song started and hit us with a wall of sound–so much volume and power in that small room. They sang two songs, and it was clear how much they loved singing. After that, they recited a couple of Scripture passages. It brought tears to my eyes to see these precious girls speaking words from the Bible.
At their insistence, we switched places and our team sang a verse of “Amazing Grace,” and then we got them all up and moving with us as we sang an old VBS favorite: “Father Abraham.” We ended our time together in one huge circle around the room–the girls interspersed in between all of us, holding hands. One of the older girls prayed with great fervor and reverence. And then my sweet friend, who was holding my hand and standing to my left, led a song or two. It is a moment–a memory with God’s people–I will not soon forget.
Joy. A sense of family. Deep belonging. Hope. This home was filled with all of these wonderful things.
Our in-country contact told us on the drive over that many of the girls were from slums, a couple of them from Kibera, the largest urban slum in Africa. We drove past it silently, staring at the tin covered roofs. How hard to actually process that thousands of people live there, and precious girls were born there and at one time in danger of being sold into sex-trafficking. They might have been, if not for this Remember Nhu home. A haven. A place of safety preventing the need for rescue.
When you meet a child in person and see their lovely face close to your own, it becomes real. This is real. There is real danger and real tragedy. But there are also real children who are given a real home and a real hope. This is Remember Nhu.
My new sweet friend is so close to my heart.
I carry her there, with many prayers, since we have returned.
Will I see her again?
Only God knows, but I am thankful for her safety and for her family.
Oh Jesus, be near to her.
Be near to all children who, like her, need a safe haven.