I grew up in Nairobi, Kenya, in a slum, right next to a large dump site — a horrific place. People bring their dead babies there.

View of a slum in Kenya

We were with five people and we all shared one bed. Our house had an metal roof, but with many holes in it. In April it rains heavily in Kenya, so everything got wet very often. Many times we slept while sitting in a dry corner of our house.

Whenever it rained, the water came up ankle deep in our house. That was the most difficult time for our family.

We were often hungry because it was very hard to find food. I started to look for edible food in the dump site. My mom often asked for help from friends.

But many people in our neighborhood were bad people. I had two sisters, and my mom was afraid they would be raped and killed one day. So she looked for help and built a home on an empty plot from the government.

Again, our house was made of metal sheets, but it was never completed, so we had to use a lot of plastic bags to fix it. The plastic could not keep the rain out of the house. We had to make holes in the plastic in order to prevent the house from collapsing under the weight of the water.

The new place we lived in was very muddy and looked more like a living place for goats. There still was hardly any food or clean water.

Whenever we got a glass of clean water, we considered it as a real miracle. We ate only dry corn. By that time, we all had stopped going to school. Everybody tried to survive on his own.

My parents started having problems in their relationship. My dad beat my mom daily for a year.

But when my mother heard about Compassion, we went to a church and enrolled in the child sponsorship program. Then everything started to change.

We were able to go to school and I received containers of oil and food. I could bring some of that home, and I received healthy food at the child development center.

In school, we used a family name. The school fees were paid for the family. Compassion paid for the fees, so all of us suddenly could go back to school.

Compassion gave me a school uniform, and I got shoes and socks. I used them carefully and gave them to my brother.

After awhile, my whole family started to change. It was like a ray of hope.

My mom started to sell vegetables in marketplaces and later opened a small shop. I got a sponsor, a special lady who showed me the true love of Christ.

During moments that I did not do well in school, I often read her letters. They really encouraged me and inspired me.

My father had left us alone to die. So I thought,

“How can my sponsor really love me?”

At the Compassion center I got my first Bible. I was taught about Christ, and that He loves us in whatever place we are. Through Him we can change our lives! It’s through the love of Christ that this woman loved me.

I did well in school and went to high school. I did that well too, and was able to go to university.

If I hadn’t gone through these things, I may not have come to know Christ. I remember saying,

”God, I truly know that You love me. You are alive.”

Through the Leadership Development Program I was able to start dreaming again. I received hope and faith for a good future. I could become a leader in the community, and I learned skills and leadership principles.

My Purpose

It’s important to ask yourself what your purpose is. What does God want to do with your life?

Malaria is a big problem in Kenya. If in a poor family somebody gets malaria, the costs for the treatment is so high that it keeps children from being able to go to school. I want to learn and research about this disease.

Malaria is so big that it negatively influences our economy. With so many sick people, we have a lot less working hours in our country than needed.

God blessed me with brains to learn about malaria. I started looking for a study about the molecular basics of diseases. Not just malaria.

I learned that the Radboud University in Nijmegen (The Netherlands) has a trial vaccine against malaria. That’s why I contacted them and why I am working with them.

It’s my dream to develop a vaccine against malaria and to make it available to the poor.

My brother died because it took the doctors too long to figure out what kind of disease he had. That’s not necessary and has to stop.

That’s why I’m here. This is my story.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Joshua Miago is a formerly sponsored child and Leadership Development Program graduate. He currently lives in The Netherlands and is working to create a vaccine to fight malaria. He shared his story with Martijn Moens from Compassion Netherlands.

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Pauline is a 38-year-old mother of two, born and brought up in the Korogocho slums, east of Nairobi, Kenya. Here, she experienced the harsh realities of Nairobi’s urban settlements. Characterized by high levels of poverty, crime, disease, political instability, ethnic conflicts and blatant corruption, children have become the biggest losers in this mix.

Pauline vividly remembers the dilapidated home that she lived in until just recently. The walls caved inwards and the roof sagged because of the weak structural support. As is the norm in Korogocho, the houses are closely knit together, with little space to move around. She was embarrassed of her home, let alone the danger it put her family in.

“My door could not shut well and we feared being attacked at night.”

But Pauline found help at the local church of Korogocho slum, Redeemed Gospel Church. She often hosted fellowships in her tiny house, but she could not stand the humiliation of her home and contemplated not hosting more visits.

One of the church members, however, noticed her predicament and raised support for her with the help of Pastor Muthama.

“The church members practically reconstructed the house,” Pauline remembers, wearing a warm smile on her face.

The church bought the posts, iron sheets and provided labor.”

Pauline’s confidence was restored and she is thankful for the act of generosity. She can now host visitors in her tiny home without worry. Her daughter, Margaret, 22, is a Compassion graduate, and Margaret recently got a job as a waitress with a very popular coffee house in town, Java.

This is just one of the many examples of how the church is a shining light to the people in Korogocho. Pastor Muthama believes that the church is the hope to bring people out of poverty.

“Redeemed Gospel Church represents Christ through evangelism and other acts of service. They also offers a multidimensional approach to poverty, starting early through our children. The church’s partnership with Compassion has helped us to reach more needy children and families, not only with the gospel of Jesus, but also life skills that enable them to be economically self sustaining.”

Pastor Muthama also knows the challenges of working in a community like Korogocho. He is well known here, but that has not made him immune to armed violence and constant threats. But having grown up in this village, he says that his heart belongs there.

“I have been mugged several times and armed men have stormed the church during worship.”

The church is a target because the ministry here is a threat to the status quo. Pastor Muthama isn’t afraid to speak against the vices in the community. Many young men have changed their ways, but later run away, fearing for their lives. The government security forces have done their bit, but far too many people lose their lives and no real solution has been found.

“I believe that the lasting solution is the intervention of the Christian Community. Many young people are getting lost in this cycle of hopelessness. I love the church because it offers hope to humanity. The church has the great role of bringing people to the knowledge of God and helps them realize their God given potential. Furthermore, it spreads the love of God to all people.”

Pastor Muthama still remembers the 2008 post election violence that rocked the country. Some estimates say that over 1,000 people were killed in this conflict in which tribe was pitted against tribe, and old grievances between Kikuyus and Luos were brought to the surface.

“We were at the forefront of reconciling warring communities.”

The church was instrumental in offering an alternative to conflict that brought together different opinions, cooling down a polarized people. Church pews now accommodate people of different tribes, age and varying economic statuses. From the pulpit to the doors of the church is a voice that speaks against the glaring inequalities that is often the status quo outside of church walls.

Redeemed Gospel Church’s involvement in taking care of the needy – especially children – and being an alternative community that yearns for justice, positions the church in a place that the community can’t ignore.

“The community appreciates our presence due to the positive impact we are having. Through the various programs like the Child Survival Program, the feeding program for children, affordable high school and of course through reaching out to the community through evangelism, we have seen good fruit and everyone is appreciative.”

Throughout this expansive settlement, children are unaware of the hazardous river banks and unprotected bridges as they go about having their usual fun. They do not share in the same worries as the adults, and many of them succumb to an early death due to disease.

If they survive these childhood challenges, they get caught up in the rat race of unemployment, indulgence in illicit brews and neighborhood gangs. Unfortunately, some of them never get to see the light of adulthood.

Looking at the statistics, the challenge of serving this community appears almost insurmountable. However, the will to have a better future is alive and well. Mothers like Pauline trust that their children will have greater accomplishments than themselves.

The faces of sponsored kids at the child development center radiate the ember of hope which is evident in their eyes and smiles. The church’s surroundings cushion them from the dangers that lurk around the corner.

The church is taking responsibility for raising a generation that cares about each other and understands God’s purpose for them. And what more can one ask for when children receive Jesus at their tender ages and experience the joy of fellowship in a secure environment?

Pastor Muthama is on a mission to help change the outlook of this community. In fact, the locality is now known as Kochland, a change from Korogocho a name that carries a lot of negative connotations. Kochland High School is located at the church and is helps kids in the area to obtain a secondary education, placing them on a path to success.

Close to the Compassion Development Center is a brick wall with the words “Caananland” inscribed on it. It has been standing here for as long as the locals can remember, but represents a future they all look forward to, one of peace and prosperity.

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We are proud to present this inspirational story by Silvano Assanga, a formerly sponsored child.

I lost my father at the age of 4, and it was predicted that we would end up in the streets as beggars. He was our sole breadwinner, and he did not leave much to be inherited upon his death. We did not have well-off relatives, either. The thought of attaining higher education from such a background was therefore not real back then.

It is now real. In August 2010, I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree in journalism from the United States International University (USIU) in Nairobi. Having pursued my studies from such an institution, I consider my story to be one of luck and God’s love.

When Compassion began recruiting needy children in Western Kenya, my aunt pleaded with them to consider me for the program. I was staying with her and she informed them that I was a needy case.

My mother depended on hawking bananas at the market to fend for her family of seven children. I was therefore enrolled in the program and my sponsor, Ashleigh began helping me through Tear Fund in New Zealand.

Ashleigh later got married to Andrew, and their support and prayers have enabled me to be what I am. As a sponsored child, we never met face to face, but they trusted me with their resources like their favorite child. They have not only financed my education up to university, but they are also concerned about my future progress.

Like my biological parents, they have kept close ties with me. Such trust, such concern, such love is hard to come by in our society. It is what makes me feel that my story is worth telling.

I was only 6 when Ashleigh became my sponsor. She was a nursing student. She chose to better my life by sparing part of her pocket money for me.

It may not have been much then, but it saved me from heading to the streets as a beggar. That is what encouraged me to become one of the top students in primary school. I studied hard in knowledge that my life depended on it.

Since my aunt whom I was staying with was illiterate, she also encouraged me to work hard so that I could read and write letters for her. I grew up inspired that since so much was being invested in me, much would be required from me too.

I realized how lucky I was when I visited home during weekends and holidays and learned that my siblings and other village mates were having problems with school fees. They could not even afford text books and stationary.

In our family, the siblings depended on my mother, Pauline. She had to hawk bananas and divide the meager earnings between food and school necessities. I was therefore a special child since my uniform was always new, and I never missed classes due to lacking certain items required at school.

In other schools in the village, students had to share old textbooks. A class of 40 or 50 pupils could have less than 10 textbooks.

That was not the case in our school. Thanks to our sponsors, we had enough books, which we shared with other pupils. We had everything we needed to concentrate on our education.

Unlike other students who used to rush home at lunchtime and come back late in the afternoon, the child development center organized a lunch program for us, too!

Such care enabled me to perform better in my studies. From a family of seven – five brothers and two sisters, only my eldest brother and I managed to proceed to secondary school.

I am now the first one from the family to have attained a university education! I can picture myself spruced in graduation attire, receiving my diploma in the presence of my tearful mother and friends. I still recall the long prayers she used to say, asking God to uplift her family.

She never failed to pray for my sponsors. To her, they were my parents from a distant land. They were not materially wealthy. They helped because they were rich at heart! There were considerably well-off people in our society, but my help had to come from distant lands!

There were some obstacles on my path, too. Even though my sponsors maintained their support when I joined secondary school, the development center introduced a new policy that required parents to share education costs. I had joined a prestigious high school in our area, but I had to drop out due to my inability to pay the fees.

I enrolled in another school whose academic performance was not as superior as the previous one. The school lacked adequate facilities and furthermore, I was still required to pay some fees.

Against my expectations of passing highly, I ended up with a grade of C+ in my final examinations. I considered it a big disappointment. The grade did not reflect my true academic ability. Most of my friends in my previous school had better grades and proceeded to universities while I faced a rough end of life at home.

A year after completing secondary school I was departed from the development center for claims of being undisciplined. It seemed to be the end of my ambition of becoming a journalist. And I could not write to my sponsors anymore.

Even though I still loved reading and writing, pursuing higher education became a mere dream. I began helping my mother in her bread winning efforts and worked as a hawker, an assistant in a research institution, and a part-time teacher among other undertakings.

I bought books from my small wages and converted my room into a library just to retain my academic mood.

Celebrating with brother Wilberforce

“Silvano,” my mother would say whenever she saw me preoccupied in the “library,” “your addiction to books is not in vain. You will go to college one day and you will not even believe it.”

I believed the words were merely meant to uplift my spirits. My dismissal from the development center had closed college doors for me. I wrote articles for a local daily, the Kenya Times, just to keep my journalistic skills alive.

I also wrote poems and short stories, some of which were published in overseas anthologies.

While I was working on my stories one day, a thought struck. What if I searched for my sponsors? Would they be willing to assist me?

I decided to write to Compassion’s head office in Colorado Springs. It was a long letter in which I narrated my story and requested them to contact the sponsors on my behalf.

A long period of silence followed. I kept checking my e-mails but there was no communication. The silence led to my conclusion that my efforts were unsuccessful.

I was however shocked one day when I opened my inbox and saw the e-mail. I could not believe it. I reread it several times in order to prove that it was from my sponsors!

Compassion had alerted them to my desire to communicate, and now I was reading their e-mail!

When I showed it to my mother, she was not amazed as I expected. Instead she held my hands and prayed. Then she spoke assuredly:

“I knew you would unite with them one day”

That was in early September 2004. August, six years later, I graduated from USIU with an aggregate GPA of 3.75 (magna cum laude). I was also the second-best student in my journalism class.

When I graduated, my mother and my friends were present to celebrate with me. My sponsor came too. Andrew had flown in to witness the great event.

I know that the only way I can express my gratitude to my sponsors for helping me as a child and for reconnecting with me to support and encourage me even more is through hard work. Currently, I am an Intern at USAID in Nairobi. And I keep praying and working hard for success.

On behalf of the children you sponsor, thank you for loving us and giving us opportunities to succeed.

My Account l Sponsor a Child l Help Babies and Moms l Crisis Updates

About 500,000 Kenyan children are missing school due to lack of food.

According to the World Food Program, in countries where school attendance is low, the promise of at least one nutritious meal each day boosts enrollment and promotes regular attendance. Where that is not offered, hunger interferes with the children’s concentration in class, affecting class performance. As famine takes its toll across the country, a growing number of students are staying away from school altogether to help their parents look for food (The Standard, Sept. 23, 2009).

Drought and famine have led to an increase in the high school dropout rate primarily in schools in the Njoro and Nakuru areas. While 29 percent of children in Nairobi are malnourished, that number increases to 42 percent in the Eastern Province (Daily Nation, Oct. 7, 2009).

The United Nations Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) has stated that malnutrition is the major barrier to universal primary education in Kenya.

Famine conditions have also affected livestock in the rural areas of Kenya, undermining the primary source of income for pastoralists, especially the Maasai population.

Malaria continues to be another source of concern, and an increase in cases is predicted because of the El Niño rains expected to pound the country. Malaria is the leading cause of death in Kenya, affecting mostly the rural poor, particularly young children and pregnant women. Most cases affect children under the age of 5 (Daily Nation, Oct. 7, 2009).

While mosquito nets have made a difference in squelching the malaria epidemic, researchers are discovering that mosquitoes are now feeding earlier in the evening, which reduces the effectiveness of the nets. While there has been a dramatic reduction of malaria in children under 5 years, the disease appears to be shifting to older children (Daily Nation, Oct. 30, 2009).

Other threats to Kenya’s children include the H1N1 virus, child abuse and abduction, and neglect. The number of orphans in Kenya has risen to more than 2.4 million. In 2008, 38,325 children were described as neglected and 2,753 were abandoned by their parents (The Standard, Sept. 29, 2009).

The effects of poverty are felt most severely in the country’s rural areas, where half of the population lives on less that Kshs. 1,560, versus the more urban areas where people earn an average of Kshs. 3,000 per month. Of the 40 million people living in Kenya, 16.6 million survive on one meal a day and are most likely to die of disease, hunger or political violence (The Standard, Oct. 29, 2009).

My Account l Sponsor a Child l Help Babies and Moms l Crisis Updates

BigStuf Camps did the video. It was made for the 2009 BigStuf interns.The footage is from their trip to Kenya with us and 410 Bridge, the ministry Paul Omondi works for.

The vocals were taken from a recording of kids in a child development center in the Kibera slum (Nairobi, Kenya). The soloist is a girl named Esther.

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I graduated in 2005 from Daystar University with a degree in community development. Upon graduating, I became a volunteer at my local child development center, helping Compassion kids with letter writing, doing devotions and sharing my Compassion story as a way of encouraging them.

I also worked on a part-time basis with Compassion Kenya as a research assistant. Among the research I helped coordinate was a study on the impact of Compassion’s programs on its graduates.

Between July to October 2006, God opened an opportunity through Compassion for me to be a voice for the voiceless in various venues and forums throughout the United States, speaking on behalf of children living in poverty in today’s world, drawing upon my experiences as a formerly sponsored child.

My role as an ambassador was to speak on behalf of Compassion International in seeking to acquire new sponsorships and deepen the level of trust among current sponsors and donors.

I thank God, because more than 1,000 new sponsorships were acquired during the speaking engagements in the United States.

In February 2008, I had the opportunity to engage in a series of speaking engagements with Tear Fund NZ. I was hosted as a guest in one of the Christian media houses during Compassion Day and also spoke in different churches and institutions on the need and benefit of child sponsorship.

God has been preparing me to embrace a great vision; I thank God for ordering my steps in life. I am currently working as a community development manager with a nonprofit based in Kenya with its head offices in Atlanta: 410 Bridge Ministry.

• Read the July 2007 LDP Newsflash featuring Paul’s post-LDP work at 410 Bridge Ministry.

I have observed with varying degrees of frustration how lack of Godly leadership has plunged Africa into a myriad of problems, as children continue to suffer innocently and give up on their dreams.

I am ready to be used by God to transform Africa to become a continent after God’s heart.

I believe that each child should be given an opportunity to live his or her dream; we should not allow poverty to rob, crush and destroy the God-given potential of any child. Those who do not live their dreams often become cynical about their future as poverty robs them of childhood hopes and expectations.

I consider myself a voice for the voiceless, bearing testimony to the biblical truths that God has the best plan for children. It goes without saying that if you invest in the life of a child, you touch a family. If you touch a family, you transform the society. If you transform the society, you change the nation. And if you change a nation, you make the world a better place to live in.

• Become a voice for the voiceless (US)
• Become a voice for the voiceless (Australia)

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By the time I had completed high school, I did not know what the next step would be for me, because in Kenya at the age of 18 years I was due for graduation from the Compassion program and that was it.

I heard of the Leadership Development Program (LDP) from the social workers at the child development center at a time that I was praying and trusting in God to take me to college.

I had done well in my exams, and Compassion was looking for young outstanding Christian men and women who had been through the Child Sponsorship Program to develop through educating, training and discipling them into servant leaders.

The aim was to equip the people to impact their community in their various spheres of influence.

I thought this would give me an opportunity to pursue my dream. I did not hesitate to apply after getting the recommendation letters from my pastor and social worker at the program center.

The challenge was that the Leadership Development Program in Kenya could only take 20 students, yet there were many child development centers in Kenya with equally outstanding Christian young men and women with great potential.

The interviews were vigorous; candidates were to exhibit Christ-like character, commitment to a local church, outstanding academic performance, and leadership ability, among other things.

Joining the program as one of the first 20 students in LDP-Kenya was nothing short of a miracle.

I remember joining Daystar University in Kenya to pursue a degree in community development. That was a great achievement not only for me, but also for my family, church and community. So many people started looking up to me to help them make decisions in almost all areas of life.

The church had me serve in Sunday School, Mission and Outreach Board, School Board and Clinic Board. My dad made a habit of consulting me always in the major decisions that concerned the family — that is not so common in Kenya.

Missions and outreach activities that were organized by LDP-Kenya in rural parts of the country are memories that I still hold dear, even after graduating from the program.

We would go to the villages as LDP students, do door-to-door evangelism and do community service like helping with digging, washing clothes and dishes, and fetching water and firewood.

The most exciting moments were seeing the villagers come to accept Christ as Lord and Savior of their lives. They were often humbled by the way university students would come to their level and just be friends.

Being linked to a mentor to walk me through my spiritual and career life was also something memorable. Training workshops organized by Compassion and also opportunities to meet other LDP students from neighboring countries like Uganda and Ethiopia are memories that will not fade easily.

The opportunity to serve as the first LDP-Kenya student leader was a good training ground for me in taking up future leadership roles in the community, the country and Africa — transforming lives of many in a godly way.

Still as LDP students, we undertook to sponsor a girl from India through Compassion as a sign of giving back; we still sponsor the young girl — from sponsored children to sponsors of children!

Finally, winning a scholarship for an exchange program between Daystar University and Gordon College in Wenham, Massachusetts, for a semester in 2003 was a life-changing experience as well that I am grateful to God for.

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I was among the first lucky ones to get a sponsor, and when I did I had a new family — the Pendleton Browns from Atlanta, Georgia.

Every Saturday I attended the Compassion Saturday program. When I was first enrolled I knew for sure the weekly meetings would interfere with my soccer time, which was also on Saturdays. But when sports were introduced I became comfortable with the idea of attending.

As a kid, I often played at the dumping site and scavenged for edibles that the various companies and airlines disposed of at the site. My friends and I named the dumping site “Chombo.” Chombo is a Swahili word meaning machine.

We named the dump “Chombo” because we found biscuits disposed of by factories that the machine did not cut into the correct shape. Most boys ended up not going to school, but found a home in “Chombo.”

Not many kids made it to high school in my neighborhood, basically because of two reasons; one, to make it to high school, there is a national exam that one has to take. Passing this exam is not easy as such, and if one never makes it in the exam, then there is no place for him or her in high school.

Another reason is that, even if some make it in the exam, they fail to join high school because they cannot afford the school fees.

I thank God for Compassion because it ensured that my school fees were paid for in high school. My sponsor family also encouraged and believed in me, hence I did so well in my exams and joined a government high school.

Some of the kids I grew up with did not get the opportunity to join high school. Most boys went into drug addiction and to nurse their drug addiction, they turned to crime.

Ladies turned to prostitution, and most of them had babies as early as 14 years old.

I saw more than 15 boys I grew up with either being shot down by the police or being stoned to death by mob justice. The community was just fed up with crime and took the law into its own hands.

An event that turned my life is when I saw one of the young men I grew up with and even shared classes with being chased down the streets. Later, the crowd caught up with him, stoned him to death, and set his body ablaze.

I later learned that this young man had stolen an electronic gadget worth maybe less than $100. It saddened me seeing my friend die in the hands of an angry mob.

For a long time I blamed myself for not sharing my faith with him. I resolved to join an evangelism and discipleship class in church popularly known as Campus Crusade for Christ. Here I had opportunity to learn how to share my faith and I saw my friends come to Christ, though some rejected.

By the time I had completed high school, I did not know what the next step would be for me, because in Kenya at the age of 18 years I was due for graduation from the Compassion program and that was it.

For sure, high school education alone could not help me achieve my dreams. I became sad. I really had the desire to proceed with my education, but I knew without the help of Compassion I was not going to make it.

One thing surprised me, though; I did well again in my Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education exams. I became a role model in my community, and I often had parents send their kids to me to talk to them.

I had an interest in teaching kids in church; I found it fun singing with 8- and 9-year-olds and teaching them Bible stories. I also continued sharing my faith in the neighborhood through door-to-door evangelism.

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As a child, I held onto my dream despite the glaring poverty that threatened to kill it. I dreamed I would be some sort of a great leader when I grew up. My parents always reminded me that it would be important to work hard in school and trust in God in order for my dreams to come true.

Childhood memories are still fresh in my mind. I grew up in a neighborhood of 10′ x 10′ shelters made out of sticks, mud walls and iron sheet roofs.

My father volunteered as a church planter in the slums while my mother made and sold African attire known as ‘Kitenge’ in a small market nearby.

I watched one of my sisters die at age 3. I was only about 4 years old then.

Many children die before the age of 5 in my community. Perhaps that explains why most parents have many children — they have to take chances because they aren’t sure which ones will make it.

I am one of five siblings that survived. My eldest sister is 32 years old and I am the second oldest. I have a younger sister who is 25 and a brother who is 24. My youngest sister is 19.

Infrastructure is a great challenge in my community. There are no nearby hospitals or schools, so we remained isolated from the rest of the world.

Without medical coverage, a hospital visit in the neighboring town reaps hefty hospital bills. It is particularly hard for parents who cannot find employment.

As a result, many parents avoid taking their children to hospital for fear of being detained in hospital if they can’t afford the fees.

Only in serious cases is anyone taken to hospital and, even then, transportation is a challenge. Some of them never make it in time and die on their way.

Bitter herbs are common for most illnesses, and as a kid I dreaded saying I was sick because it was hard to stomach the bitter herbs going down my throat.

Sanitation was and still remains a great challenge in Kibera.

Residents answer the call of nature in buckets in the comfort of their small houses and pack the waste in plastic bags, which they throw out of their windows at night. This practice led to the rise of a new term — “the flying toilets of Kibera.” Curfew hours begin at 8 p.m. in Kibera, and puu-puu begins flying through the windows.

My father believed that the reason he was living in abject poverty is because he never had the privilege of completing his high school education. He resolved to give his children good educations if he could.

My family eventually moved from Kibera to Dandora, about half an hour east of the city of Nairobi.

Dandora is known for being the largest dumping site in Kenya, where crime and all sorts of evil reigns. Dad relocated the family to Dandora because the government was setting up public schools there and he wanted us to be in a neighborhood with public schools.

When we moved to Dandora, I started schooling immediately. My dad, together with five other families, founded Dandora Baptist Church.

Compassion came to my new neighborhood and started a partnership with our church, enrolling children in the child sponsorship program.

The idea of child sponsorship was a new phenomenon in my neighborhood. When the church came asking to enroll the children in the program, many parents were hesitant for a number of reasons; some thought that the church was taking advantage, trying to woo members because the church had only five families as part of its congregation.

The was also a rumor going around that the church wanted to enroll the children in devil worshiping, and this rumor saw many parents becoming skeptical even though their children were eligible for the program.

I had heard the rumor at school, and I pretended that I was not associated with the church. I still remember going home and my parents telling me that they had chosen me to be enrolled in the program since Compassion only took one child per family.

Of course you can tell I was not going to receive the news with joy. I thought my parents had decided to give me away. How unfortunate! What had I done to receive such treatment?

Then came the day of enrollment. Compassion Kenya staff had all the children lined up as their parents watched from the church pews. The registration ages were 4 to 10 years old.

There was no way to tell the ages of most kids since they had no birth certificates. This is common since some kids aren’t born in hospitals, but at home with the help of non-certified midwives.

The only way to tell the age was to have all the children line up and look at their stature. I knew I was 11 years for sure. I wanted to say that I was over age, but the look on my parents face spelled disaster if I was to divulge that.

As the Compassion staff inspected the queue, I hoped that they would pull me out. They pulled quite a number of those who looked old, but my little emaciated body denied me the chance of being pulled out of line.

I almost shouted my real age when the Compassion staff passed me. The numbers of children who passed the “age verification test” was 80, far less than the expected number, so Compassion staff decided to extend grace and enroll ages 4 to 12 years.

That was the moment I knew I was now completely netted. I could see my mother smiling broadly after the pronouncement. She had her fingers crossed all this time, and finally the kids who were enrolled into the program numbered maybe 114.

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Since then my Creator and Saviour has been helping me to weed out values that are contrary to those of the Kingdom and walking with me towards the dreams He’s planted in my heart. It’s been a step-by-step process of learning to be faithful with what He entrusts me with.

Of course, going against the patterns of this world isn’t easy, but the fruit of obedience is liberating! I wouldn’t want to live any other way. Life’s exhilarating when you’re dancing with a God of the supernatural.

Thanks to modern technology, I met a former sponsored child Paul Omondi through Facebook! Paul shared his testimony with me … It’s more than encouraged me to be all that I can be; it’s given me hope.

Paul completed the Leadership Development Program in Kenya years ago (a program that educates, trains and disciples servant leaders), was recently married (congratulations Paul!), and now works to help his fellow Kenyans escape the cycle of poverty in his role as a Community Development Manager.

But every achievement starts with a heart that dares to dream.

Twenty nine years ago in Kibera, 15 minutes outside of Nairobi, Kenya, a baby boy was born. Kibera is the biggest slum in Kenya. I can’t imagine what would’ve become of me if I was born there.

I’m reminded of the words of Nathanael when Philip told him that he had found ‘the one’ that Moses and the prophets wrote about. He said,

“Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” — John 1:46a (NIV)

Can anything good come out of a slum?

Tune in all next week as Paul tells his story.

- Irene

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