Brooks
Person after person, book after book we’ve read have been so discouraging in attempts to start a self-sustaining project in Africa. Even with initial funds to get something up and running, to see it actually run by Africans, sustained by Africans, without continual financial feeding from outside sources is almost unheard of. Yet, we were determined to not be ongoing parents of babies, but to truly see people set free to stand and live on their own, by their own initiative, their own strength, their own determination, their own resources. This was our dream for the Women’s Vocational Training Center. Even if against all odds, even if the Kenyan ways of doing business and running a school are entirely different than ours, we wanted to see it be their school, not ours, lasting not just for a few months, but for years to come.
So, with your help, initial funds were raised to rent space, purchase sewing machines, fabrics, scissors, yarn, threads, hire a teacher and the Women’s Vocational Training Center, Dorcas Hands, was opened in Kitale, Kenya six months ago. Elizabeth Mudenyo, the Director, has faced so many challenges along the way: friends who thought Mzungus (Whites) were going to be paying for jobs for the center, students who were there for the wrong reasons, materials stolen, “volunteers” seeking payment, students too hungry to be able to stay awake at their machines to learn, spiritual oppression of the students, management of the initial funding and paying rent and ongoing expenses of the school. The obstacles, you can see, have been great. It’s been challenging to support Elizabeth from half way around the world, not to mention teaching business skills that are adaptable to an African culture is almost an impossibility.
So, after six long months, emails back and forth across the continents, we were excited, even if somewhat anxious to visit Dorcas Hands firsthand. We wondered if we had been enough support initially and ongoing for it to work. If Elizabeth had been able to keep it going, it would be nothing more than a miracle. We prayed, “Please, God, let it be so!”
That very afternoon I met up with Elizabeth who excitedly told me, “I am anxious to take you to Dorcas.” So, off we went winding through the people-filled streets of Kitale. I had ZERO expectations and held my breath. Like so many times before, we entered the narrow dark entryway in the concrete building leading into the narrow hallway. Several shops were off the left and right. At the far end on the left, the door was open. As we stepped into the darkened room (I later learned the electricity had not been paid for some time), there were the sewing machines lined up in a row and where fabrics had hung before now hung beautifully crafted skirts and blouses and shirts and school uniforms. Before my eyes could even adjust, hands reached out pulling me close and big kisses on both cheeks with loud giggles amidst many “karibou, karibou”s of welcome. It was Christine. The Christine I’ve told you about before. The Christine who six months ago would not even look up if I spoke her name she was so ashamed. She used to wear the same clothes day after day, and didn’t even know what day or time it was she was so sickly and tired of living and breathing and trying to exist. Today, she proudly introduced me to the other students, Judith and Felisters. Then, she grabbed first a school shirt to show me, then a skirt, then a blouse…all made by her. She is a miracle…spiritually, emotionally, and physically. She has never asked for anything, but whatever is offered, she grabs a hold of and takes it for her own. Today she is a woman who knows who she is and where she is going.
Today, Dorcas Hands exist. It is sustaining itself, by God’s grace, as Elizabeth will gladly tell you. Is it easy, no. Does she need help, yes. Will we give it? Join with us to pray how and when and where. There are many Christines, many Judiths, many Felisters. One by one, we really are touching lives. They are being changed forever by our love. May I extend my asante sana (thank you) to you for them.
So, with your help, initial funds were raised to rent space, purchase sewing machines, fabrics, scissors, yarn, threads, hire a teacher and the Women’s Vocational Training Center, Dorcas Hands, was opened in Kitale, Kenya six months ago. Elizabeth Mudenyo, the Director, has faced so many challenges along the way: friends who thought Mzungus (Whites) were going to be paying for jobs for the center, students who were there for the wrong reasons, materials stolen, “volunteers” seeking payment, students too hungry to be able to stay awake at their machines to learn, spiritual oppression of the students, management of the initial funding and paying rent and ongoing expenses of the school. The obstacles, you can see, have been great. It’s been challenging to support Elizabeth from half way around the world, not to mention teaching business skills that are adaptable to an African culture is almost an impossibility.
So, after six long months, emails back and forth across the continents, we were excited, even if somewhat anxious to visit Dorcas Hands firsthand. We wondered if we had been enough support initially and ongoing for it to work. If Elizabeth had been able to keep it going, it would be nothing more than a miracle. We prayed, “Please, God, let it be so!”
That very afternoon I met up with Elizabeth who excitedly told me, “I am anxious to take you to Dorcas.” So, off we went winding through the people-filled streets of Kitale. I had ZERO expectations and held my breath. Like so many times before, we entered the narrow dark entryway in the concrete building leading into the narrow hallway. Several shops were off the left and right. At the far end on the left, the door was open. As we stepped into the darkened room (I later learned the electricity had not been paid for some time), there were the sewing machines lined up in a row and where fabrics had hung before now hung beautifully crafted skirts and blouses and shirts and school uniforms. Before my eyes could even adjust, hands reached out pulling me close and big kisses on both cheeks with loud giggles amidst many “karibou, karibou”s of welcome. It was Christine. The Christine I’ve told you about before. The Christine who six months ago would not even look up if I spoke her name she was so ashamed. She used to wear the same clothes day after day, and didn’t even know what day or time it was she was so sickly and tired of living and breathing and trying to exist. Today, she proudly introduced me to the other students, Judith and Felisters. Then, she grabbed first a school shirt to show me, then a skirt, then a blouse…all made by her. She is a miracle…spiritually, emotionally, and physically. She has never asked for anything, but whatever is offered, she grabs a hold of and takes it for her own. Today she is a woman who knows who she is and where she is going.
Today, Dorcas Hands exist. It is sustaining itself, by God’s grace, as Elizabeth will gladly tell you. Is it easy, no. Does she need help, yes. Will we give it? Join with us to pray how and when and where. There are many Christines, many Judiths, many Felisters. One by one, we really are touching lives. They are being changed forever by our love. May I extend my asante sana (thank you) to you for them.
Add new comment