Josh Petersen

The Floodwaters that Took Everything.

At 3 am she woke up to screams coming from outside her house. Diana and her family got up and looked out the door and there below them, water rushed past from heavy rains tearing apart the structures around them. The houses below their house were already washed away and people were fleeing up the hill. Diana and her family left their home and their only possessions and ran for their lives up the hill.

The flood took everything. They didn’t have much because her mom worked daily wage jobs and her dad wasted the money he earned on alcohol. But what little they did have, was now gone.

Our partner Fanuel was quick to try and help as many flood victims as possible and within a few days he got Diana’s family a new place to stay and helped furnish it a bit.

But, in the stress, cold, and exhaustion of it all, Diana’s mom was getting sick. She had a pre-existing heart condition that flared up and now Diana was worried about her mom. Diana called Fanuel and he immediately sent a motorcycle to pick them up with some cash to go to the health clinic. When they got there though, the staff told them they couldn’t help her and to send her to the hospital. So Diana called Fanuel again and he sent more money and a driver, and that time he met them at the hospital.

Diana was telling Kacie and me this story through tears in a small home in Mathare. I asked what happened next and Fanuel said that the cost of treatment for Diana’s mom was too much for them all. He said the expenses were heavy, “Oxygen alone was 500 shillings an hour.” So they had to stop the treatment and shortly after, Diana’s mom passed away.

When he said this I was taken aback. 500 shillings is only $5. Diana had to say goodbye to her mom because the oxygen costs $5 an hour.

Sometimes, if I’m honest, poverty doesn’t look too bad. I meet a really nice family on a sunny day. They have a small home but we play games, we smile, and there is still a strong sense that we’re all just humans. It’s tempting to think it doesn’t seem that bad. But it’s in moments like this story where poverty can really bare its teeth. Poverty eliminates options. It eliminates protection. It eliminates any degree of control. And on a good day, that might feel okay. But when the water comes rushing through your neighborhood and your home is made of sticks and tin, and your mom has been battling a heart condition on her own because there’s no money for doctor visits, you can loose everything you love so fast.

Diana smiled and joked with Fanuel during the story. She’s still very much human. She still finds moments of joy and even hope, but there is a burden on her shoulders that is too great. She’s asked now to navigate life and take care of her sisters with very little opportunity.

In the midst of all this, we have been able to get her a scholarship to go to college. She wants to learn about business. I’m devastated that the things poverty has taken from Diana are not things we can give back—her mom, the comfort of her old home, or her childhood for that matter. But I am hopeful that a chance to go to college might open a new door—one that had previously been closed. I’m hopeful that by funding an incredible community leader like Fanuel, he can start to prevent more kids from poverty’s devastating effects.

We can’t take away the pain of the past, but we can help try to pave new futures.

Backpacks With a Side of Sizzling Dosa, Warm Smiles, and a Bright Future.

The whole scene was a bit chaotic. It was July 2022 and we had just arrived in Kalandra for the first time in three years to visit our feeding center and backpack recipients there. The village stirred with energy as our car pulled up, and we were greeted by an excited crew of elementary and middle school-aged boys, eager to share their village with us. At the front of the pack, with the biggest, uncontainable smile was Sam Kumar.

He grabbed our hands and directed us through the narrow, winding streets to a small home in the corner of the village. “Is this where you live?” we asked. Beaming with pride he said it was and proceeded to bring his parents out. Sam loves his family and wanted them to share time with us, even though family dynamics haven’t always been easy.

Sam’s dad struggles with an addiction to alcohol and spends most of the family’s income on liquor. His mom has struggled through some heavy bouts with depression, leading to a near-suicide attempt while Sam was present. Through it all though, Sam seems to have a contagious optimism that draws the family together. In fact, his mom was talked down from her suicide attempt by Sam’s encouragement for her to trust God’s provision. Sam’s love is felt by the family but they are still left with some significant struggles. Both of his parents work day to day and the income is so slim. Sam’s dad works as a coconut peeler, and his mom tries to find work as a maid for a local landlord. After the continued dependence on alcohol and a meager supply of food and necessities, there is no money left to spend on an education for Sam. Even though school is government-funded, Sam couldn’t afford to pay for the basic supplies like books, paper, and pencils. Supplies needed by anyone who wants a chance at succeeding in school, and for Sam, success in school could be a lifeline out of poverty.

Everything changed a few years back though. In 2020 we raised money for our Backpack Project at A Night For Hope and we were able to send enough money to our partners to distribute over 5500 backpacks full of school supplies. One of those recipients was a kind and smiley young boy in the little village of Kalandra. Yep, Sam got a backpack thanks to the generous support of a few hundred people gathering together in a parking lot in Lincoln, NE for a Covid-friendly, drive-in fundraiser. And that impact was not insignificant.

Equipped with a backpack full of all the supplies he’d need, Sam now had the confidence to approach school with the same love and enthusiasm that he approached all of life with. But even more than that, Sam got connected to our local partner Aaron who has loved and invested in him. Aaron has started teaching Sam and his family about Jesus and his love for them. They have started to open up their home to the community to have a small church gathering each Sunday and lives are changing forever — all because of a few pencils and notebooks in a backpack.

As we wandered in behind Sam, he and his mom pulled out a small stove and lit a fire. We gathered around as Sam poured fresh batter onto a sizzling skillet, preparing each of us some of the best Indian dosa you’ve ever had. Sam giggled as I tried to help with the dosa and really butchered it. The fire was hot, the food was warm, and the smiles touched us. In the midst of a broken home, in the corner of an impoverished village, hope was stirring. 

Our bodies warm with food, we said our goodbyes and departed out into a now rain-soaked evening. Looking back, we longed for more for Sam and his family. Yet at the same time, his radiant joy reminded us that even on a dreary night, in a cold concrete home, next to a self-consumed, alcoholic father, Sam has hope. The future still holds light.

Each step brings a piece of hope.

In the southwestern corner of Kenya is a little town called Oletukat. In fact, to call it a town might be a stretch. It is more like a group of scattered homes and shops along the bumpiest of dirt roads. Oletukat is home to a people group called the Maasai: a Kenyan tribe known for their bright shukas (cloaks), intricate jewelry, and livestock. These are people who depend on the land for their resources. Their homes are built from the dirt, their livestock graze on the grass, and many try to grow food to feed themselves. Yet, for Oletukat’s entire history, it has never had access to water.

For as long as people have lived here, they have walked five kilometers away to a river to gather water and carry it back to their homes one jerry can at a time. This water was all they had for bathing, cleaning, cooking, gardening, and drinking. One can a day. And it was filthy. The river carries a heavy load of mud and other sediment, making it completely brown. Animals share the riverbank and their waste mixes into it. To make things even worse, the towns along the river dump their own waste into it upstream from Oletukat. Because of this, diseases like typhoid, dysentery, and cholera have run rampant in this community and the surrounding area. In fact, we have learned that nearly 6,000 people in this area faced the same situation. And this little region, with all its struggles, is home to a little girl named Jolyne.

Jolyne is the youngest of ten kids. She’s nine years old. Growing up, her mom would join the women of Oletukat and the surrounding area in the walk for water. Lining up by the dirty riverbank with her jerry can early in the morning, filling it with dirty water, putting it on her back, and carrying it back uphill five kilometers home. She would divvy out the five gallons she had for her and her family to drink. She’d use a little bit of it to cook with. Then they would have to choose whether to let some of the family bathe, or wash clothes. With ten older siblings, it’s likely Jolyne didn’t get much of the water. There was only enough for her to wash herself once a week. Letting the dirt just build up on her skin each day. This was life for her. And her future seemed to be the same story as her mother’s. The daily walk for water consumed life, and the hope of something different — school, a job, a new life — seemed impossible.

Then, in 2015, things started to change. This is when our partner organization, Nasha, decided to begin the effort to bring clean water to Oletukat — to kids like Jolyne — and we decided to join them. We knew from the start that bringing water would be a challenge. In fact, large organizations like World Vision had tried to drill wells here and no water was found. So through a group of African consultants, we began the process of building a pipeline. Trenches were dug, pipes were laid, and the water from the river was starting to get closer. A huge pump was installed and a water tank was built in the center of town, and for the first time, Jolyne’s mom could walk down the street for water. But it was still dirty. We wanted better for her. So we began the construction of a multi-stage filtration system. After breakdowns, photos by: Josh Petersen & Ezra Bram 4 8 4 9 delays, dump trucks tipping over in the mess of mud that fills the road after a rain, and thousands of hours of labor, the filtration system was up and running. And this summer, we got to see water flow. And to be honest with you all, it’s still not what we hoped it would be. We hoped to turn on the tap and get a nice bottle of Dasani out of it, and unfortunately, it’s not that.

The filtration hasn’t fully worked, but it is a step forward. It has made a huge difference in the lives of those who live in Oletukat, including Jolyne’s life.

Now her mom can walk down the street and get ten jerry cans of water for her family. They are drinking, cooking, cleaning, and bathing every day. When we met Jolyne, her skin was clean. She could feel beautiful. And although the water isn’t perfect, the health clinic in Oletukat told us that cases of typhoid, dysentery, and cholera have dropped drastically. Life is changing for the people of Oletukat.

Jolyne is now in class one at Eltomtom Primary School. Her future can look different. She won’t be spending her days walking to lug water back for her family. She can study and dream of a new world.

It can be easy to look at this project and be disappointed that the water is not perfect yet. But as a small organization, we have seen that every little step we take can make a big difference for people. For Jolyne, her life has been changed forever. We will keep fighting to make sure we do everything we can to perfect our projects, but we want you to know that every little step, each piece added to the puzzle, brings people another piece of hope. It changes the narrative one more time. So thank you to all of you who have believed in us and those we work with around the world. We want you to know we are going to continue to use the funds you generously give to keep taking more steps to chip away at the pain of oppression, poverty, and hopelessness. That’s the adventure we’re on.