Thoughts at 3:30 in the morning...

It’s after 3:30 am (at the time of writing this) and I’m wide awake. I’ve been up for almost an hour, thoughts going through my head like crazy. All my body wants to do right now is sleep, but my mind is in overdrive.

I woke up with an ache in my heart. My mind started replaying stories of children I have heard recently, the suffering in their lives, the conditions they live in. It’s so overwhelming at times. When I look around and see so many children, so desperate for the basic needs to be met in their lives, it saddens me…to know these needs aren’t being met, can’t be met.

Kenya, as a whole, is not an affectionate country. Not to be stereo-typical by any means but very rarely, do you see a father hold his children in a loving manner, let alone hold his child at all. And even as the child grows, away from the breast-feeding year, the motherly bonding seems to deteriorate. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a mother here in Kenya pick up their child when they are hurt and console them and kiss their “boo-boo” away.

Except in Nairobi, where you see the odd hand holding of couples and it being a city of more modernized people, you would never know a married couple walking down the street together or a boyfriend and girlfriend on a lunch date (except for the dates under the random tree where they sit eight feet apart and barely look at each other).

I’ve asked people over my few years in Kenya, “Why aren’t you affectionate to one another whether it be children or partners?” And a lot of them have said that life in Africa is tough and therefore they themselves need to be tough. They want to raise their children to be tough, to be strong against the elements that the poverty-stricken African life throws at them. I can understand that, to a degree.

But whether an African child or a North American child, physical contact, physical affection is something we all crave. I see that in the African children I meet with daily. It ranges from a little baby to a teenage street kid (boy or girl). They’ve lacked that physical affection and when they get it from me (or from any of us here), they soak it in. I love kissing a baby’s cheek, a toddler’s cheek and feel them push their cheek up against me, for more. I love when a child comes and curls up on my lap and nuzzles up against me and wants me to wrap my arms around him or her. I love when the street kids come over and know that I will give them a hug and they don’t run away from it but “embrace” it.

I see the lack of physical affection in this culture. I feel it at times and it’s such a loss. A hand held, a hug, a kiss on the cheek…they can change a person’s mood in a moment. I know for me, there are moments where I’ve had a bad day, an emotional day…and its amazing how a hug, a simple hug can change that mood.

I long to see more Kenyan men hold their children in their laps and wrap their protective arms around their children. I long to see them spend time with them, reading them stories, playing football in the yard with them. I long to see the Kenyan women cover their children’s cheeks in kisses and comfort their children when they fall and hurt themselves.

No matter where we come from, as children (and even sometimes leading in to adulthood), we desire that physical affection from our parents. Sometimes actions speak louder than words and a moment of hugging someone is far better than hearing, “Its okay.” or “You’ll be okay.”

I don’t know the purpose of this blog, if it at all makes sense…as it’s now 4:30 in the morning. Maybe I’m just tired….or maybe I just really need a hug.