On Friday, I was in town and I ran in to one of the sweetest street boys, Daniel. Daniel is a regular at a street kid drop-in centre called Oasis of Hope. Daniel is one of the kids that I have a HUGE soft spot for in my heart. He is such a sweet boy with a sweet smile and is so smart. Whenever I go to Oasis of Hope to visit, he’s always helping the younger kids and is so attentive in the classes. Every time I see him, I make a point of hugging on him and telling him that I love him.
When I saw him in town on Friday, he was by himself so I thought that this was a perfect time for him and me to talk. So we went to a restaurant outside and had sodas. I asked Daniel to tell me a bit more about himself; I wanted to hear a bit of his story.
Daniel is fourteen years old. He is from Lodwar (in the Turkana district). His father was a drunkard and when Daniel was four years old, his father in a night of drunkenness rage, killed his mother. His father was charged with murder and sent to the Kitale prison. Without a mother, Daniel and his six-year old brother were brought to Kitale and put in to a group home.
From the sounds of it, they were in and out of homes. Daniel’s older brother is currently in jail in Eldoret for stealing. Daniel doesn’t know if his father is out of jail or still there and Daniel doesn’t even remember what his father looks like. He could pass him on the street every day in Kitale and not even know it’s his father.
There was a deep sadness in his eyes. At one point, I saw tears well up but Daniel was quick to wipe them away with the sleeve of his dirty shirt, never wanting to show the emotional side of him. He broke my heart.
I asked him if he knew that he could always trust me and know that I would be always be a friend to him. He looked at me sheepishly, smiled and said, “I know, Mary.” I asked him if he knew that I loved him, he said, “I know you love me. Thank you. I love you too…sana (very much).”
Some street kids will tell false stories of their past to get the sympathy of the white people. And perhaps this could be the truth of Daniel but for now, I will believe and listen to what he says. Because no matter what, I don’t think you can pretend the pain that was in his eyes. And sometimes, the stories just might be true. I just want to be someone, not of foolishness who believes all that they hear, but someone that the kids will know they can confide in and that they will be truly listened to. I just will trust in God to give me discernment.
Here’s a picture of Daniel.
When I saw him in town on Friday, he was by himself so I thought that this was a perfect time for him and me to talk. So we went to a restaurant outside and had sodas. I asked Daniel to tell me a bit more about himself; I wanted to hear a bit of his story.
Daniel is fourteen years old. He is from Lodwar (in the Turkana district). His father was a drunkard and when Daniel was four years old, his father in a night of drunkenness rage, killed his mother. His father was charged with murder and sent to the Kitale prison. Without a mother, Daniel and his six-year old brother were brought to Kitale and put in to a group home.
From the sounds of it, they were in and out of homes. Daniel’s older brother is currently in jail in Eldoret for stealing. Daniel doesn’t know if his father is out of jail or still there and Daniel doesn’t even remember what his father looks like. He could pass him on the street every day in Kitale and not even know it’s his father.
There was a deep sadness in his eyes. At one point, I saw tears well up but Daniel was quick to wipe them away with the sleeve of his dirty shirt, never wanting to show the emotional side of him. He broke my heart.
I asked him if he knew that he could always trust me and know that I would be always be a friend to him. He looked at me sheepishly, smiled and said, “I know, Mary.” I asked him if he knew that I loved him, he said, “I know you love me. Thank you. I love you too…sana (very much).”
Some street kids will tell false stories of their past to get the sympathy of the white people. And perhaps this could be the truth of Daniel but for now, I will believe and listen to what he says. Because no matter what, I don’t think you can pretend the pain that was in his eyes. And sometimes, the stories just might be true. I just want to be someone, not of foolishness who believes all that they hear, but someone that the kids will know they can confide in and that they will be truly listened to. I just will trust in God to give me discernment.
Here’s a picture of Daniel.
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