Nafula

 I feel like I have been here a week. Maybe longer. When I meet new people and they ask how many days I've been in Bungoma, 2 seems crazy- to them and to me. I have already learned so much about Kenyan people, culture, beliefs, and customs and look forward experiencing more in Bungoma. As I mentioned in my last post, today started at 8 AM for the Mzungus and 10:30 AM for the Kenyans. Alyssa and I were scheduled to visit the children's home during the morning hours, which is right next door to the Branch. Finally, around 10:30 we were told we could go. Besides Kenyan time, another reason it took awhile is because there had been some miscommunication between the headmaster at the orphanage and the Red Cross volunteers last week and apparently, she scolded them for not helping enough. Apparently, there is not a list of things to do there so people just go and do what they can such as play with kids, help cook, clean, ect. Wekola had to go over this morning and explain that if they want certain tasks done that they need to tell us and that we would be more than happy to accomodate them. This seemed to satisfy the lady in charge and thus we went, eager to help in every way.

Most of the older kids were in school so we encountered a few babies (1 month-2 years old) and 3-7 year olds. There was a mentally handicapped boy, Issac, who loved to dance and wanted to hold hands with all the girls. Although he could not speak, he smiled and danced to let us know he was happy we were there. I took on the job of cutting up the vegetables that the cooks would prepare for lunch. I definitely got a work out on my right arm and I'm thankful I didn't slice my hand off. After cutting, I took a break to play with a few girls that had congregated in the area outside the kitchen. All of a sudden a small girl in a satin, white, dress walked up to me and immediately grabbed my hand. She didn't say anything but just kept holding my hand. I knelt down to greet her in Swahili and asked her what her name was and hold old she was. She did not speak but held up 3 fingers. The other kids told me her name was Nafula and she was 3 years old. I then sat down on the ground and just started rubbing the top of her hand with my thumb. She seemed so content with me doing this that I sat there and did it for the next 1/2 hour, while talking to the volunteers and other children. She soon sat down beside me and just stared at me with big brown eyes. I looked down at her hand and noticed that her thumbnail was partially torn off. It looked painful and I wanted to clip it. I asked one of the cooks if they had finger nail clippers or scissors. He said he would check, which meant he would go inside and come back out without speaking to anyone. I asked another intern there and she responded with "No, we don't have those." After a few more tries/begs I finally got someone to bring me a sterile small blade. As soon as I took it out of the package, Nafula pulled her hand out of mine. I told her in Swahili that it was okay, I just wanted to make it better and help her. I went to cut it off and she started screaming and crying and saying it hurt. I felt terrible and didn't want to accidently stab her so I put the blade back in its case, reached into my bag and pulled out a tissue to wipe away her tears. I told her I was sorry and hugged her for the longest time. Then we had to go. I assured her I would return.

Later today, Alyssa and I went back to the hotel and she grabbed her fingernail clippers. Our plan was to return to the children's home and clip Nafula's nail before the tea party at 7 PM. It just so happended that Moryne, the nurse, and Wycliff, the paramedic, needed to go too to talk to the owner, Violet about coming to the tea party. So as us 4 walked up the dirt path to the compound, 10 children came barreling towards us. I literally thought I was going to be knocked over as they jumped, hugged, climbed, and ran into me. These were the kids that were in school earlier in the day. They were so happy to see us and kept playing with me hair and touching my skin. I spotted Nafula standing patiently at the end of the road with a burgandy dress on. I showed Moryne her nail and she agreed we needed to cut it. As much as it pained me to hold her and listen to her cries, Moryne was able to snip it off quickly as I held her and dried her tears. We also realized she has jiggers, a parasite infection that works its way into feet and hands. It is easily prevented by wearing shoes and washing hands; however, these are rarities in Kenya especially in a children's home. The good news is that the treatment is simple and involves mixing water with an anesthetic chemical and soaking feet for about 15 minutes. Then they are scrubbed with a brush and topped off with some disinfectant that helps them heal. The toenails and fingernails are also trimmed and the jiggers removed with a small blade. The Red Cross also gives out shoes to those who receive jigger treatment so to prevent future infections. Moryne said we can come back tomorrow and treat her and also give her oral medicine for ringworm (which she has as well).

Moryne, Me and Wycliff heading to the Children's Home

Nafula is the living proof of resilience. She was picked up off the streets just two days ago and brought to the childrens home. Although she cried when we clipped her nail, she immediately returned to her solemn facial expression and accepted my hug with open arms. I can't imagine what she has been through or any of those kids who have been abandoned. I know my love and caring can only be professed for 7 more weeks but I am determined to make it over there at least 3 times a week to see her and offer her a hand hold or many hugs. She needs to know and feel that she is loved.