As I was walking to church this morning, a voice called to me from behind. I turned around to see a lady quickly walking up the hill toward me. She was carrying a large basket on her head, a baby on her back and had the hand of a small child clasped in hers. As she approached, even though she was sweating and obviously tired, she had the biggest smile across her face. When she reached where I was standing, I could see tears in her eyes. She removed the basket from her head and handed it to me saying, “Mr. Chris, please accept this Christmas basket as a token of my love and appreciation for you. It is not much but it is all I have. My husband and I want you to receive a portion of our recent harvest for saving our child’s life”.
Two weeks prior, I received a call @ 7am in the morning from Pastor Erick Chondo, telling me that I needed to come quickly because of an emergency. By God’s grace, I was staying in a town only 20 minutes from his location. Unfortunately, Lisa was 2 hours away, working at our other school clinic. I drove faster than usual that morning, as I did not know what waited me there in the village about 2 miles from Maasai Corner Ministries. As I drove off the road and down the trail, I entered into a group of huts to find a crowd of people crying and screaming. I jumped out of my car and rushed into one of the small dark huts as people inside pointed to something they wanted me to see. Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw a very sad situation. On a grass mat, on the mud floor, laid two precious little girls. One of them already stiff and cold I recognized as one of our 4 year old Sunday School girls, Mwaka Chimera. Laying next to her was her 7 year old sister, Kanga Chimera, still breathing but unconscious and in critical condition. Their mother was on the ground crying & wailing while the father sat on the floor weeping, with his hands on his two baby girls. I asked Pastor Erick to come outside with me and tell me what had happened.
He told me that both girls had been waiting outside of the local government clinic with their parents for the past 3 days. They both had high fevers, were severely dehydrated, experiencing seizures and refusing to eat. They desperately needed medical attention but all the government clinics in the near villages were closed because of a nursing strike. For 3 days, they were carried to a local clinic early in the morning hours, waiting outside until dark, hoping the nurses would return to work and help them. The parents did not have means to contact us to help them, and it was only when the wailing was heard did Pastor Erick learn of what happened.
I then returned into the hut, picked up the frail, weak body of 7yr old Kanga and asked the grieving family for permission to take her to a private pay clinic in Ukunda before it was too late. Their father’s brother went with me and the pastor to locate help for his niece. As we drove I was praying, pleading to God, that He would spare this little girls life. We reached the clinic in record time.
Within minutes, the doctor examined her, ran some tests and diagnosed her with Cerebral Malaria! Her fever was 103, she was unconscious, her eyes and hands had turned yellow, a result of how Malaria attacks the red blood cells and begins to damage the liver. They immediately injected her with several medications, put cold towels on her body and put an IV in her arm to get fluids into her body. The doctor told me that many children in this region had died over the past three weeks because of the nurse’s strike and that he & his staff were overwhelmed with all the serious cases coming into his clinic. He said he did not know for sure but he felt that Kanga was going to make it. She laid in the hospital bed as we prayed over her for several hours. The doctor told us that unfortunately we needed to take Kanga home because there was no room in his clinic for her to stay. She was awake and able to respond to questions which was prayers that were being answered. Kanga was given 5 different medications to take and she was discharged.
We drove quickly back to the village to find hundreds of people waiting to hear if they were going to bury one or two girls that day. They rejoiced to see us arrive with the young girl alive. Yet, for me, it was a feeling that I had never experienced. I was overjoyed that we had been able to save Kanga’s life but my heart was broken for the loss of her sister, Mwaka. Over the next few hours we held a simple, traditional funeral. When the 1st born child dies, the Duruma tribe bury them in a special way. If the child is over the age of 1, they bury the body right outside the front door, if the child in less than 1, they bury the body under the bed of the parents. Since Mwaka was 4, we prepared her final resting place just outside the door. We wrapped her body with a colorful piece of material and then placed her in the hole on top of a grass mat. We then put sticks across a portion of the hole, laid another grass mat across the sticks and then filled the hole with dirt. Because of time and money, most people who die in the villages do not get buried in a casket. Each man attending the funeral helped shovel the dirt onto the hole, while the women cried and sang sad songs telling the story of this families pain and suffering.
When the ceremony had ended, I asked the family if I could speak to everyone there. With permission and with Erick translating, I told everyone that my heart was broken. I told them that I missed Mwaka very much and wished that she had not left us so soon. I said that for the past two years, I had loved her like I loved my own daughter. I then told them something they were not expecting. I said, “Mwaka is not in this hole!” Her body was there but her soul was in Heaven. I told them that Mwaka was looking down right then, wondering if any of them would join her there one day. As Pastor Erick and I shared the plan of salvation, we explained that if they believed and trusted in Him, they could join Mwaka in Heaven when they died. Erick then asked everyone there to bow their head and pray with us. We asked all those who were not sure about where they would go if they died, to pray a simple prayer. Many prayed with us, too many to count. I’m sure Mwaka smiled down on us that day! I thanked everyone for coming and encouraged them to be a part of our ministry. I then hugged all the family on last time and left them to drive the 2 hours back to my home.
And so, as Lisa and I stood on the steps of the church with tears in our eyes, we opened the Christmas basket that Mwaka’s mom had carried on her head to present to us. Inside I found a large bag of rice still in the hull, 3 papaya fruits, and 2 pieces of squash. It was all she had but it was more than I ever expected. We hugged her and told her we were so thankful that she was at church and that she was able to spend Christmas with her other 3 children. I told her that Lisa & I would continue to pray for her sadness and if she needed anything, to let us know.
This Christmas, hug your children a little tighter, give a little more to someone with a little less, and you will be surprised at what God fills your basket with as you live your life for Him.
With all our love,
Chris & Lisa Moore
