A message for the hurting: ‘God’s eyes are upon you’

ARUSHA, Tanzania — We wouldn’t be stopping for ice cream.

I was doing a ride-along with Dorris Fortson and Ana Kimambo of Neema Village, a home for orphaned and abandoned babies in this East African city, not far from Mount Kilimanjaro.

We were going to visit a few of their success stories — ladies who had gone through the ministry’s Mothers Against Poverty (MAP) program, regained custody of their children and started their own businesses.

Related: ‘The God who sees me’

Then, ice cream.

But before we left, Ana told us that we’d be making another stop. A young woman had asked to join the MAP program. We’d be interviewing her and, most likely, bringing her and her family directly back to the Neema Village campus, where the mothers stay while they take classes on women’s rights, parenting, computers, sewing, business — whatever they choose.

When Elizabeth’s son developed disabilities due to an illness, her husband took a second wife. She left. Now the MAP mom has a thriving juice business.

We visited the MAP moms. One ran a beauty parlor, another a clothes shop. One, Elizabeth, made fruity juice drinks at a stall in a bustling outdoor market. I couldn’t interview her because she had customers lined up — and a constant, beautiful, ear-to-ear smile.

Then we pulled up next to the home of Joanne, age 16. It was a lean-to of wooden planks and sheet metal, set against the concrete wall of an adjoining property. There was no floor, only dried mud that had preserved a tiny baby footprint.

I gingerly sat down on the corner of what I assumed was a bed. Ana spoke to Joanne and her 22-year-old cousin in Swahili.

“So the situation is really, really tough,” Ana told us. “I think now they cannot share too much because they’re scared.” Ana had spoken to Joanne before and knew some of their story. Later she and Dorris told me that Joanne had given birth at 14 and was doing her best to raise her baby and her 7-year-old sister. Joanne’s “sometimes father,” as Dorris called him, appeared occasionally to abuse her. Then he disappeared.

Dorris Fortson listens to Joanne’s story.

Joanne’s cousin, who has a baby of her own, moved in recently. Life had become too hard in the village where she lived, the cousin said. It was hard for me to imagine a life tougher than this. They would wash clothes to earn a few shillings for cornmeal porridge called ugali, a staple in East Africa. It was never enough.

Joanne’s sister had special needs, she told us, pointing to the bed where I sat. I almost jumped when I realized that the 7-year-old had been lying there this whole time, dressed in jeans and a simple, blue sweatshirt. She didn’t speak. She moved slowly. I couldn’t tell if she could see. The father had been abusing her, too, the young women told us. A medical test later confirmed this.

Dorris spoke: “Joanne, I know sometimes you think God has left you, even though he hasn’t. God’s eyes are upon you.” She talked about Jesus’ promise to give us an abundant life (John 10) and encouraged Joanne to take advantage of all the programs that would soon be offered to her and her cousin.

“I know sometimes you think God has left you, even though he hasn’t. God’s eyes are upon you.”

We’re going to welcome you into our family. You’re going to be fine,” Dorris said. A year from now, she would be “shangaa” (Swahili for “amazed”) at how God has changed her life.

Then Dorris turned to me. “Erik, what words of encouragement do you have?”

I stammered, thinking only of the 7-year-old, motionless, next to me. “I’m really sorry that you’ve had to go through this,” I said. “No one should have to go through this. … But your story doesn’t have to end here.”

Erik Tryggestad rides along on a visit to a young woman who asked to join Neema Village’s map program.

I thought about the evil in this world, the pure evil. I tried to focus on the forces of good that come from God, forces that the gates of hell cannot withstand. But that tiny, dirty room was so dark.

We prayed. Then we gathered the girls’ few bags of possessions and loaded them into Ana’s Land Cruiser. Dorris had trouble lifting the 7-year-old into the seat and asked me to help. I was terrified to touch her, knowing what another man had done to her. Would she recoil?

“OK, sweetie, here we go,” I said, repeating words I used to say to my two girls when they were little as I would buckle them into their car seats.

Joanne and her daughter leave their one-room home for Neema Village.

As I gently lifted this poor, precious daughter of the King of Kings, I heard singing — simple, angelic singing. I looked across the alley and saw a door with a cross. It was a church building or a Christian school perhaps. They were having chapel.

Was this supposed to comfort me, God? It didn’t. I felt a surge of rage. This place of worship existed just feet away from the house with the muddy footprint, a place of atrocity, of horror. And they did nothing.

I’ve thought about my anger in the days since. Back in Oklahoma, my church meets in a huge, comfortable building across the street from a small subdivision. Do I know what goes on in those houses?

If I did, what would I do about it?

@christianchronicle Ana Kimambo of Neema Village, a rescue center in East Africa supported by Churches of Christ, sings on the way back from picking up two women for its Mothers Against Poverty program. #rescue #womensshelter #africamission #cocnews #churchesofchrist #christiantiktok ♬ original sound – The Christian Chronicle

Here, in Arusha, God did something. He sent Ana and Dorris.

After we loaded the young women and their children, I fumbled for my seatbelt, trying to blink away tears.

“I dunno, Dorris,” I said. “I think we’d better stop for ice cream after all.”

We did. I bought some for everybody. It seemed stupid and pointless.

It was the best I could do.

ERIK TRYGGESTAD is president and CEO of The Christian Chronicle. Contact [email protected], and follow him on Twitter @eriktryggestad.

Filed under: abuse Africa missions children's homes East Africa Insight International Mothers Against Poverty Neema Village Opinion Single mothers Tanzania Top Stories