Poverty in Mathare Valley

          On the afternoon of July 8th, our group split into smaller groups of four, partnered with a staff member from Missions of Hope, and walked out into one of the villages of the Mathare Valley Slum.  Before I describe my experience, I want to give you a few facts about the Mathare Valley Slum.
          The Mathare Valley Slum has a population somewhere between 800,000 and a million people crowded into an area of less than a square mile.  (To help you wrestle with this number, this is more people than live in Seattle, even though Seattle covers approximately 80 square miles). Rivers of sewage and garbage run through the slum villages, carrying trash and human waste.  Many families crowd as many as 10-15 people into one room huts made of scrap wood, corrugated tin, or mud.  There is no running water or toilets, and most people do not have electricity.  The electricity that is available is hot-wired in to homes, which poses fire risks and electrocution risks.  Thousands of children have lost their parents and have no home but the streets.  These children often turn to begging, stealing, prostitution, and drug-dealing to survive.  Evil is rampant here.  Women and children are most vulnerable.
          Of course, these facts and photos (below) cannot truly convey what it is like to walk through the dirt roads of Mathare.  No words can describe the depth of physical poverty that these people live with and in day to day.  I walked through the slum almost numb to what I was seeing.  I felt like I was on the verge of breaking open.  I prayed as I walked.  I prayed for the residents.  I prayed to see them with Jesus's eyes.
          Children followed us, laughing and calling out, "How are you? How are you?" (We learned that some little ones actually think white people are called "how are you").  They asked us to take their picture ("Pica picture!).  The wanted to touch us, to hug us, to hold on to us.  And then I'd see a baby, not even a year old yet, sitting in filth on top of the layers of garbage, digging tiny fingers into the rubbish.  And my heart broke open.  As I looked closely into the faces of those living here, I saw some walking with light in their eyes, but most of the adult faces were hollow. Dark. Forlorn.  The young children played happily in the rubbish.  Older children (still young - 8-12 yrs) walked around seemingly lost, many sniffing glue or other inhalants to simply mask their hunger.
          And then we were invited in to one of the homes.  This sweet woman's house was made of corrugated tin.  It was the size of my master bathroom.  At times, up to four adults and four children shared the small space.  There was no window, no electricity, no running water, no toilet, no kitchen.  A sheet hung across the room to divide the sleeping area from their living space.  Plastic buckets along the wall contained their only food.  Food that was cooked over a small kerosene burner in one corner of the shack.  She welcomed us and thanked us for coming.  After introductions, we listened to her story and prayed for her.  We left her home and continued on our way back to the school.
          As we walked, Ann (our guide) told us that this village has seen drastic improvements over the last six years since Missions of Hope began to work in the community.  She told us that the light and hope of Christ is permeating the darkness of this particular village.  The residents are filled with hope.  Children are going to school and getting a meal at school. Women are getting training to work to support their families.  It's getting better, she says.  To be honest, as I look around, I can't imagine it being worse.  But I believe Ann, and I thank God for the work He has begun in this village.