What can one person really do? I have come to believe that one person can truly transform lives forever.
Remember Moses?
Well, I had the pleasure of visiting him again this week. He is a totally different child. When we first met, six weeks ago, he had been home bound and in bed for ten years, only crawling out to sit on the couch to eat his porridge.
He is 14.
His mother did everything for him. She did not think Moses could learn anything. She also thought he was deaf.
With prompting and some physical assistance, he miraculously started walking on his own.
And that was only the beginning.
When we visited this week, Mary, his mother, said that since we came last, he has grown so much and is a completely different child now. Both she and Moses are changed people forever.
His bed sores are gone and he plays outside with his siblings. He is making noises now, trying to talk. He is starting to communicate with his mom when he needs to go the bathroom. He can hold his own spoon. And he ran across the play area today.
It is truly amazing to watch this continued transformation of lives.
Laveenda
Let’s talk about Laveenda.
She is the 12-year-old girl whose mother was carrying on her hip as we walked to her house.
She spends most of the day in her bed. When we visited six weeks ago, her mother was desperate for help. She was anxious and depressed, in total despair and feeling hopeless.
Her family, including her husband, shunned her because her tribe does not accept such children. The mother had to find a separate house for the child to sleep in — alone. The mother comes to visit her child four times per day to make sure she is safe.
The day we visited six weeks ago, the child was non-responsive, nearly falling asleep sitting up.
I was heart broken. What could I possible do for them?
We talked.
I talked about the fact that is is OK to have a child with a disability, it is not a curse, and the the child can learn.
I encouraged the mother to continue loving her child, despite the disabling condition. I told the mom to get the child outside, to take her for walks.
The child had scoliosis and can only walk for 50 feet or so. We prayed for her and her family.
Then we left.
This past week, as we visited her again, she told us she was filled with hope. She had moved her child again to a new room, still alone, but closer to the mom.
The child was sitting up and at times, tried to communicate with the mother. I commended the mother on her obvious unconditional love for her child. She told us that since our last visit, she has been filled with renewed hope and things have gotten much better for all of them.
It is still very hard, but at least it is better. I was amazed.
I was wondering , what did I really do? Then I realized I had accomplished exactly what I had set out to do in the beginning of all of this — to instill hope and knowledge to parents and children with disabilities.
Mr. Kiamani
Then there is John Kiamani, an adult who suffered an accident two years ago and is paralyzed from the waist down.
Again, on our first visit, weeks ago, I felt helpless. What can I offer him?
My knowledge on paralysis is minimal and I could see no way for him to be productive in these slum conditions. He would never be able to get out of his house.
I was having limited thinking. The team of people encouraged him to be faithful in his walk. I told him God has big plans for him.
This week was our third visit to his house and every time we visit he encourages us; he greets us with a smile; and he prays for us and with tears in his eyes.
He told me that he is filled with hope since we first visited him. When he saw me come back to his house for third time, he felt truly blessed and encouraged. He said he is feeling stronger and better. And he is trying to think of a way he can be productive in society.
His wife works and he makes lunch every day for his two children, from his bed. Life is hard here. Every Sunday, his friends carry him to to the road and they put him on a Boda Boda (motorbike) sandwiched between two of them and take the long journey out to his church.
You can imagine how risky it is to ride a motorbike on these Kenyan roads when you have no feeling in your legs at all. Even balancing is a struggle. But they make it. Every Sunday.
Hope
Back at the main office, as we were taking Chai, I was talking to Isabella, still in wonderment about what these people had said. Their lives truly have been transformed and hope instilled. Life is hard enough for able bodied people and hundreds of times harder for people with disabilities.
These people persevere through many hardships. I can see the hope in their eyes and smiles, they are truly grateful.
As my doubts attempt to creep in, Isabella replies: “We give them hope and prayer. Now do you believe one person can make a difference?”
Lois Knapton is the director of special education for Derby Public Schools. She is volunteering this summer in Kenya.