OUR TIME IN KENYA

OUR TIME IN KENYA

by Ken Simmons

Neither Diane nor I had ever been to Africa before, so we had no idea what to expect. We left for Kenya on July 20, 2022.?After more than 41 hours without sleep, on a flight that took us from Ontario, California to Dallas, Texas and from there 15 hours later to Doha, Qatar. ?The 1 ? hour delay in taking off in Dallas meant that we missed our connecting flight and were forced to wait another six hours for the next flight. Five hours later we finally arrived in Nairobi, Kenya on July 22, 2022. ?

There was a striking difference between the airport in Doha, Qatar and Jomo Kenyatta Airport in Nairobi. The nation of Doha is virtually swimming in the wealth of their oil money and their opulent airport was a showpiece demonstrating that affluence. On the contrary the airport in Nairobi was a reflection of that nation’s poverty. ?

We rented a mid-size SUV at the airport in Nairobi and headed off to our destination, which was a five-hour drive. Having never driven on the left-hand side of the road, in a car where the steering wheel was on the right side, it took some mental adjustments but I quickly got the hang of it. That is except when I wanted to use the turn signal because every time I used it I instead turned on the windshield wipers, which is where the turn signals are on American cars. WARNING:?The drivers in Kenya have to be the world’s worst. ?On a two-lane highway they will pass a long line of four or five trucks, on a hill, with oncoming traffic, expecting the other guy to get out of their way and near head-on collisions were frequent. Diane spent most of the trip white-knuckled and terrorized, screaming “Honey, watch out, watch out!!?--- Oh my God, help us Jesus!!”

Upon arrival at the Teule Guest House, which would be our home for the next 19 days, we were greeted by an African woman named Esther, and without a word spoken I could sense this was a woman who loved Jesus. This guest house is in the city of Loitokitok, only a stone’s throw from the border with Tanzania. ?It is in a compound called the Teule Leadership Academy which is a Christian facility for orphaned children ages 3 to 22.??Esther is an inspiration to all. This intelligent and well-spoken woman, who is fluent in English, Swahili, and another unpronounceable dialect that I suspect was Maasai, told us that during her childhood she was beaten repeatedly by both parents, told she was worthless, etc., and out of necessity she still lives with them to this day. But Esther has managed to come through this terrible ordeal with so much love in her heart and forgiveness for those who mistreated her that the grace of her Lord and Savior Jesus just seemed to flow from her like warm honey.

We made it clear to Esther that during our time there she was not “our servant,” but our equal, and she once tearfully replied, “I have never felt so much love from anyone, and you make me feel so very happy.”?Esther will be our friend for the rest of our lives. ?

We hadn’t anticipated the cold weather in Kenya at this time of year, and the guest house, which was without central heat or air, was a chilly 53° at night, and the days typically were not much warmer at 63° during daylight hours. Sleeping meant putting on two undershirts, and a jacket, but we soon adapted to the routine and were otherwise quite comfortable.

The following Sunday the bishop from the church where I would be speaking came to the Guest House so that we could follow them in our rented Toyota SUV. After several miles on a paved highway we turned onto a dirt road, and we quickly learned that this road, which was approximately 5 miles from the church, was the worst road on planet earth. On several occasions we feared that our rented vehicle would tip over, or be damaged beyond repair, and the bumps were so violent that it sent shock waves through my spine.???

Having never been a fan of foreign cars I must admit that this Toyota managed to make it through in one piece. We determined that all future trips to the church and to the nearby crusades at the Entarara Shopping Center would have to be in someone else’s car.?This meant paying a local pastor for his time and the extra gasoline (petrol) for him to pick us up and take us to future meetings.

Upon arrival at the little church I told everyone that this road was now officially the Super Highway, and the name stuck. Everyone there laughed and began calling it the Super Highway.?It’s my understanding that when we left Kenya people still referred to it by the name I’d given it – the Super Highway. ?

Only the pastors have vehicles, and I was so impressed with these people, many of whom walk for miles to attend church services. This is a level of dedication that is seldom found in America. And, I was equally impressed with how they can sing and dance for hours; such is the joy of their salvation. After speaking I mingled through the crowd and I was thrilled that the children seem to flock to me as I blessed them one by one. Their smiles could light up the darkest room.

Less than 150’ from the small church is the new home of Jackson Lemayian, the young man who first invited us to Kenya, along with his wife Gladys, and their daughter Purity.

The following Sunday we made it over the Super Highway to the church, where I would spend my 79th birthday.?Previously Jackson had told me that it was an old Kenyan tradition that the one having the birthday would be dunked with pails of water for every decade of their life, so I was the recipient of seven dunkings. I was also pleased that I hadn’t yet turned 80 because that would have meant eight dunkings. But it was all fun, and the church turned it into a big birthday celebration for me.?Unfortunately we don’t have any pictures of my dunking.

The Super Highway took its toll on my back, giving me so much pain that I could hardly walk, or stand, and I ended up speaking during only 3 of the 6 scheduled crusades.?

The return flights home were as equally long and tiring as the first trip, with about 41 hours without sleep. A layover in London would have been nice, since neither of us had ever been to Europe, but our connecting flight meant no rest in between. We will never forget the people in Kenya and the friendships made during our time there. We’re not sure about the impact of our visit, and possibly we will never know. But one thing was certain, God sent us to Kenya to share the good news of Jesus Christ. And that we did.?