So when I called Kiaruuh to announce that we were coming to Kenya for his graduation, I wasn't too surprised when he hung up as soon as I said hello...and then ignored all of the call attempts thereafter.
By this time I was beginning to expect opposition after anything good or great, so I knew that this was just one of those trials, according to the pattern. It didn't phase me much because I had made my decision. So I simply informed Kiaruuh with a text message to his phone, which he always got (but could not afford to reply to). It said: "Kiaruuh, I am coming to Kenya for your Graduation! God has sent miracles and made arrangements so that I can come. I will be there."
I wasn't too worried about his opinion about it, because I wasn't going because Kiaruuh had wanted me to. I also wasn't going for me. I was going because I knew in my heart that the Lord wanted for me to go, and nothing about that had changed.
And so I continued with our preparations to go. I didn't say anything further, because I realized that whatever was bothering him about me or something involving me, might also cause him to tell me not to come. And wouldn't it be rude if I came even again his wishes? So I stayed quiet, and fortunately so did he. I also thought that likely he didn't even believe me.
Turned out I was right. I was actually preparing a big surprise visit.
The day to depart drew closer, and I continued to feel peace walking along with me. Although the scriptures didn't reaffirm my decision anymore, I believe it was because there was no need. The invitation had been delivered, and accepted. The decision had been made. And I felt strength and peace given to me continually.
When the day of the flight was only a couple of days away, I began to think that it could be possible that I wouldn't return. I honestly wasn't afraid of it, because I knew that whatever came was the Lord's will. He gives us life, and he has a purpose for us, and he takes us at our time. As I began to see people for perhaps the last time, I felt like it would just be next week that I would see them again. That was a welcome comfort that everything would be fine.
Dallin and I packed everything that we would need tightly into two carry-ons each. We wanted to be able to carry everything efficiently, all within our grasp, and to hike with it if we needed to, through the bush. I had only flown once on my own, and it was not internationally, so this also alleviated some of the luggage stress that would be added if we had packed any more.
I brought only skirts, because any type of trousers is extremely immodest in their people's sight. We had a lot of Kenyan bills, tucked into several different hidden places, gifts for the children, our Passports, a Swahili language book, 3 copies of the Book of Mormon, a dozen power bars, and everything else that we may need in a pinch.
On March 9, I said goodbye to my children (again feeling as if I could just as well say "see you next week!"--what a comfort that was!), and my husband took us to the airport.
After some long hugs and tender words, Dallin and I walked into the airport, placing one foot in front of the other, fueled by our faith, and we were off into the friendly skies, headed toward Africa.
The flight would be a long 24 hours.
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| One flight was low occupancy enough to use several seats to lay down and sleep a while. |
One day later, because of a long layover in Belgium, we took a taxi and stayed in a Brussels hotel. Together Dallin and I had a nice few hours in Brussels as we enjoyed our first time in Europe,
It was just so good to be able to lay in our beds with legs outstretched.
As I prayed that night, I remember feeling like it was almost upon us: our next flight would land in Africa. It was such a burden, but I was brave. (Dallin was just happy to be there, prepared for anything, but not having heard the harsh words from others). But still, I didn't know what would come. I had been told by so many that we were walking into danger and hostility, that I should be afraid. What would I find there? What kind of experiences awaited? As I knelt, staring that unknown, upcoming Africa in the face, I prayed for more peace and strength. I wouldn't turn back, and yet I just didn't know what lies ahead.
At the close of my prayer, I heard a sweet, happy voice speak words to my heart: "Christin, you should be excited!"
And so I allowed myself to have an additional share of hope and happiness, and began to look at this upcoming week in Africa as something that I can be excited about.
We connected flights, and the next time we touched down was in Nairobi, Kenya, late at night, where our Hostel's taxi driver had been waiting for us. He was very kind and talkative (in English), and helped us right to our tent where we would sleep for the night (we still had a tight budget).
The next morning, I was excited to unzip the door to our tent and see what an African sunrise would look like! We got out and stood there for a moment, just taking it in.
We washed up and enjoyed the free hot breakfast, cooked for us one plate at a time, and waited for Victor to arrive. Dallin took a zip on the zipline and I bought a headscarf for the day ahead.
Victor met us at the camp.
When Victor arrived, we greeted, and he asked where it was that we needed to go today. "We need to take a bus or your taxi to Garissa," I said. "Garissa?" Victor squeezed his face up in concern. "Garissa is near Somalia" he said. I said that I knew that. "Garissa is 6 hours away." I told him that I could pay. He asked why we needed to go. I told him that I had a friend whose graduation we wanted to attend. "How did you come to know this guy?" I told him the truth, and that didn't go so well, but by then I was used to that look.
But Victor let us ride along in his taxi anyway, and as we drove through Nairobi we talked about the church, Nairobi, and other things. He is a good driver and a man of faith, with a sense of humor, and so kind to us.
| Victor's family portrait from his home. I am guessing that it was maybe taken in 2008 |
Our new driver, Fredrick, is a returned missionary, husband, and father of a young family of two children, faithful in the church.
As he drove us through Nairobi and out of the city toward Garissa, I told him the long version of all of the things that had led to this day.
As we left the city limits of Nairobi, passing large stretches of populations of extremely impoverished neighborhoods, most people traveling by foot or bike, selling or working in whatever way that they could to exist, I began to feel like we were driving away from anything that I had ever known, toward a place of complete unknown.
As I told my story, my mind was in the game but my body wasn't. I began to go into some kind of shock, approaching hyper ventilating, and I had to stop and breathe for a few minutes, because I felt so sick and strange that I thought I might lose consciousness. But after a few minutes of breathing and closing my eyes to shut it all out for a moment to refocus, I felt better, and could continue telling Fredrick the story.
As I went on about what had happened over the past 8 months, every few moments Fredrick would say "hm!" in an expression of acknowledgement and agreement. He began to chime in bits of testimony and scripture quotes referring to what was taking place.
And at the end, Fredrick said "You know, at first, I admit that I thought you were someone crazy! But now--now I understand. You are doing what is right. We go to Garissa!"
Fredrick had never been to Garissa. It is far from Nairobi, and isn't a place where people are comfortable going. He wasn't very comfortable about the idea of going there either, because he knew that stories of Muslim hostility had come from there. But he drove on, knowing that God wanted us to go. He said he had faith that we would be alright.
Hours and miles of desert, spotted with people living in the bushes and stick huts went by. We did a lot of talking laughing, and Dallin slept. The closer we got to Garissa the faster Fredrick went. He wanted to get there long before dark, so that his trip out of Garissa would be in daylight. He was anxious to get home.
We kept thinking it was just over the next hill. We became anxious and nervous, and I think we both had jitters, until we took a moment to sing together that old, perfect song, "I am a Child of God." It felt so nice to sing it, and Fredrick sang it too, so we sang it again. "Lead me, guide me, walk beside me, help me find the way. Teach me all that I must do, to live with Him someday."
We would enter Garissa with that song.
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