And so the time has come, once again, when I must return home. This is always difficult for me, as I so love being here in Africa. But this time is especially difficult, as I feel somewhat defeated in leaving. While we were able to provide water at Mab River Home Academy, which makes me very happy, there are so many places that I know need water – some with names, and faces, that I now know, and am not yet able to respond to their real needs for water. This breaks my heart. Just to know that when I return to my apartment in San Antonio, I can have clean water anytime I turn on a faucet. In fact I have three of them in my small apartment. I now think of the wonderful people at Makobe Village who welcomed Pastor Erick and I just a week ago, when we came to meet them and talk about their proposed borehole. How they were all assembled in a circle in the small market area, the community center and how they all told me their names, as I checked them on the list that Pastor had given me with their request for the well. Indeed there was Solomon James, and Joyce Kioko, and Veronica Muthini, just some of the members who had offered to provide us with mosquito nets when we return to drill the well. And there was John Mutua, who offered to provide a place for us to sleep. And here comes Eunice Mueke and Patricia Mwikali, two of the ladies who said that they would cook for us.
Together we all then walked the short distance to the proposed location for the well. On the way we passed what looked to me like a familiar trail head. While I had never been here before I had remembered the pictures that Pastor had showed me. When I asked him he said, yes, this was the trail head leading to the water hole, about one kilometer's walk, down a steep hill. I remembered those photos of the lines of people and water cans stretching back up the hill, as each waited their turn to dip a pitcher into the milky looking water and, if they had one, use a small tea filter before their containers. With those visions in my head I now stood at the well site. It is a good spot indeed, close to a large shade tree, now in a maize field, where it will be easily accessible to the entire community. And here, Joel Kioko introduced himself. I was most excited to meet Joel, as I had copies of the documents with me where he had officially donated ¼ hectare of his land, upon which we now stood, where we would drill the well and build the collection pad. Bless you Joel.
So then came the dreaded question: “When will you come to do this?” I dreaded it because I knew that I had no answer, no specific date that I could give them. You see, we do not have the funds available to drill this or any well. I now have at least four similar communities that need water and the list is growing each week. Not all of them are as bleak as this one, but they all are in need of clean, accessible water. I know that I struggled to answer them, to provide some measure of confidence that one day soon I would come back. “As soon as possible,” was all that I could tell them. They were so gracious to accept this without further questions. But it was so difficult for them to hear I am sure.
Before leaving I took more photos of them and then here came two men, struggling to carry a large container of oranges, as their gift to me. I remembered commenting on how lovely their orange trees were, so filled with large green oranges (they don't turn orange here), as we walked to the well site. Now they were giving me more oranges than I could carry. In fact they overwhelmed and broke the large plastic bag that they transferred them into before we could get them into the car.
And so, I leave Kenya once again. The place that I have come to so love. And while my heart is heavy, I will trust in the Lord's provision, as always. While I often fail, I know that He never does. Please, if you will, pray for R4C-Water, and our significant funding needs, for a used truck to tow our rig and for the funds to drill these wells. Please contact me should you desire more details.
Mungu akubariki, Bobu
