Monday morning drivel from my mind to this virtual page

I just spoke with the social worker whose organization I work with to support kids here in Lesotho on the phone. There was sad news. One of the foster moms at one of our foster homes has passed away from her TB infection in her home village. After she was diagnosed with TB about six weeks ago, we sent her home to her family while she got better.

I don’t know what will happen next. I have a scheduled visit at that foster home this afternoon. The foster mom just passed yesterday and the social worker is uncertain that her three grandchildren there have been informed. We agreed that I should still go today, but whether I will share the news will be decided by the AFMSDD this morning.

There is more bad news from that same home.  For some months now there have been difficulties with the oldest boy. Somewhat typical teenager issues, he has just been struggling with life in general, and has been difficult to get along with as he tries to deal with the things that are important to him.  Last month he was reluctant to take part in the letters from the foster children that we had requested as part of our new monthly donors program.  And the last few times that the social worker came out to the home, the boy has made himself scarce.  (The road to the home twists and turns as it climbs the hillside, so the family knows when a vehicle approaches, who is coming, long before they arrive, and this boy has been taking off when he sees a vehicle coming). Recently he and his younger brother came under suspicion in the village over the alleged theft of a propane cylinder. These things are worth about CAD $10.00. It is not uncommon for these cylinders to get stolen in a village setting because that represents a serious amount of ready cash.   The last time the social worker visited, he parked his vehicle at another village along the road, about 2km before the home, and approached on foot, hoping to arrive without this boy being aware.  Not for the purpose of “catching” him, but rather to just have the opportunity to speak with him and see if some of his issues could not be sorted out.  But the boy saw him coming and took off.  Now it appears that late last week he has run away from the home, taking his younger brother with him. The social worker has informed the MSD. (part of our tentative agreement with the ministry requires this type of reporting). The boys told the girls that they were running away to Johannesburg.  Even if they took that propane tank, the proceeds would not get them anywhere near as far as Johannesburg.  And there is no hope for them in Johannesburg, even if they got there. And if we find the boys, what can we tell them about the future that will make them want to stay? Their parents are long dead. Now their grandmother, the only family member that cared about them, is gone. They are two boys who will soon be men, and doubtless they do not feel a lot of optimism about their futures in Lesotho.  Somehow they need to believe that there are people who care about them, that there is hope for the future. I know that if I were in their shoes, this would be a difficult sell.

This morning I found myself thinking of the people of Nepal as well.  As I have been working on my computer, I have been watching Al Jazeera news station and those folks are in a world of hurt.  Usually, living here, I tune out the rest of the world, with the wrong headed idea that we have enough on our plates here.  But I watched the story of a young Asian volunteer teacher in a rural village there as he went up and down the streets of Katmandu from one relief agency to the next gathering food, clothing, medicine and tents for the village in which he volunteers. He filled a good sized flatbed truck with enough food and supplies to last them 2 weeks, and then drove it up there and passed the stuff out.  There were a few boxes of little snack bags of chips of some kind that were given to the children. Some kid comes up to that teacher while he was being interviewed and offered him some of his chips. Teacher said no thanks, and then the kid insisted and you could see how he loved that teacher, and so the teacher took one or two chips into his hands and then just lost it. And then so did I, as I sit here in my comfortable little house, with my car in the driveway, warm blankets on my bed, space heater nearby to keep warm.

How do some people keep going when they have nothing? And I do not mean having little. I mean nothing, truly nothing.  How?

Pigs, UNO, and Life

This morning I was on my way up to the village of Lerobane, where one of the Apostolic Faith Mission Social Development Division's (AFMSDD) foster homes are located. The AFMSDD is Bracelet of Hope's (BoH) closest partner here in Lesotho, so as Country Representative for BoH, I work pretty closely with them. We have been jointly planning a piggery at Lerobane as an Income Generating Activity (IGA) to help support the expenses of two foster homes that the AFMSDD operates in this part of the country for two years now, and just last week we brought in the first five piglets. The plan is to house approximately 30 pigs in this new barn, sending five to market each month to generate funds to support a significant portion of the monthly expenses required to operate the foster homes at Lerobane and Tlhakuli.

I have been working lately with the farm manager for the AFMSDD, ntate Ramokhitlane Matlapaneng, better known to me as "John." That makes life easier for both of us. He and I worked up a shopping list of tools needed for the project, and this morning I was delivering them.

Lerobane is a hillside village on the outskirts of the town of Butha Buthe. I park near a river, and have to navigate some stepping stones across that, then hoof it up the hill to get to the project. A 4x4 bakkie (pick up truck) can drive across the river and then almost all the way up to the barn, but my Corolla just isn't up to the task.

The number one item on today's list was a wheelbarrow, and the rest of the tools fit easily inside of it, so it wasn't a tough trip - unless you are an old fat guy, which I am. I always make lots of new friends when I walk up the hill, and today I made even more as folks came out of their homes to watch the fat guy huffing and puffing up the hill with a wheelbarrow. Definitely not something the locals see every day. I had three offers of assistance, all of which I politely declined, as improving my physical condition is high on my own list of priorities for this year. Its a 500 or 600 meter walk, all uphill, and I bet I stopped for rest every 100 meters or so. I was laughing all the way (on the inside, at least) as I must have had at least five rest stops to catch my breath and avoid any cardio pulmonary events.

I arrived at the barn, checked in on the piglets, who are doing fine. Though they are digging holes in the cement floor in several spots, we will have to deal with those later.

The foster home is only another 25 meters uphill from the barn, but you almost need a rope, a pick and a handful of those carabiner thingys to make the final ascent. I tackled that and found all of the kids and the foster mom, 'M'e Mamonaheng, sitting outside the front door of the home soaking up the morning sun. It was still cool at 9:00 a.m., as we are headed into winter here. They all had a good laugh as I collapsed on a rock and caught my breath for 5 minutes. Everyone was home because it's Easter Monday here, no school.

When I was in Shoprite a few weeks back, I had found a pack of UNO cards in one of the clearance bins. R5.00, (that's like 60 cents), so it was the deal of the century. I wish I could have bought 10 packs, but one was all that they had. So I had those UNO cards in my bag today and after catching my breath, I asked the foster mom if it was okay to play a game for a while with the kids who were interested. 'M'e Mamonaheng gave permission, and everyone agreed to play, mostly because they were curious about what this old white guy could possibly be talking about, and we went inside and got started.

We had the best time! Left to right in the first photo you will see the boys Mahli, then brothers Tjama and Selala. In the third photo, again L-R, are big sister Mamokele, small boy Khotso, younger sister Relebohile, and foster mom 'M'e Mamonaheng.

In the last photo you can see Mamokhele holding her very youngest brother, Justice.

In the midst of all of the fun, Justice (aged 15 months) began to fuss. 'M'e Mamonaheng picked him up and tried to soothe him, without success. After a few minutes, she passed Justice to Mamokhele, the only mother Justice has ever really known. Within two minutes he was comforted and sound asleep, and Mamokhele slipped him into bed and rejoined the game. She is 15 years old, but looks more like 11 or 12. I cannot help thinking of the back story on Mamokhele and her five younger siblings, Selala, Tjama, Relebohile, Khotso and Justice. While their future looks brighter now, they lost both parents to AIDS, or opportunistic illnesses that resulted from their HIV infections, and Mamokhele has been their only parent for the last year. They have just recently been placed at the foster home. You cannot help but imagine your own children and how they would cope in a similar situation.



We are all doing what we can for these children. The AFMSDD has a great team led by ntate James Qhobela, his wife 'M'e Matsepo, and the social worker, ntate Samuel. The AFMSDD has a board of directors that supports ntate James and the team. And each foster home has a local committee that is responsible for the day-to-day operation of the home and planning for the future.

For each of the thirty children under the care of the AFMSDD, the future is promising. But with 300,000 other kids in similar circumstances here, there is much remaining that we need to do.

These kids at Lerobane will be housed, fed, and educated as far as they are capable of going in school. And more important than any of those things, they will be loved. But life is hard here in Lesotho. Life is still good, but it is so very, very hard.