Easter holidays are no longer what they used to be. Back in our days Easter was a big deal! Unlike our days, these days all schools have mid-term breaks. During out time, it was 10 weeks of uninterrupted learning. In fact, if you were unwell, your folks would wake you up early in the morning as if you were going to school, make you wear your uniform as if you were still going to school and then take you to hospital. After “seeing” the doctor our folks would make sure you join the rest of your classmates in class.
The good thing about “the good old days”, holidays were holidays. No private tuition, no remedial or make up classes. Holidays were what they are meant to be; breaks. The only thing you did not have a break from was house chores. We all knew that before going out to play we had to wash dishes or clear the tables. Yes there were no house helps back then. If you had one, you would still be assigned your duties anyway.
April was always a rainy season. Many other things were predictable about April holidays. There was the Safari Rally and mind you this was a family event, then there were “the Jesus movies” and not forgetting it was lukwart (lugu) season. (I still have no idea what they were called in English)That’s what they’re called! Strangely, Easter holidays always seemed to fall on the first week of April. I don’t remember it being in March as it has been a couple of times.
There were two movies that would always make you cry regardless of how many times you watched them; After The Promise and The Jesus Movie. You were never too hardcore for these movies. The Jesus movie, I am sure that was not the name but I bet no one can remember the actual name was nothing like The Passion Of The Christ. Come to think about it why wasn’t the movie called Passion of Christ? So anyway after the movie we would cry ourselves silly.
My mum being a shrewd evangelist would use that chance to take me on a guilt trip. Oh she would have fun. It’s like she was cued right before the credits to remind of my “many sins”. She reminded me how every time I disobeyed her I was re-crucifying Christ. Boy wouldn’t that make me wail and promise to be a better obedient boy from that moment on. My mum would tell me that as a result resolution I was now born again. It felt good to have a fresh start but the “devil” in my friends made “my salvation” short lived.
After The Promise (not mine, but the movie) was about a father fighting to bring home his children who had been taken away from him into different foster homes after his wife died. The story of how the lives of those children turned out was heart breaking. One of them never spoke again while the other was suffered crippling injuries. The struggle the father goes through to reunite his family and the joy of seeing the seemingly dysfunctional family become one again broke every ones heart.
Today here in Kenya there are many children who are living the “after the promise” kind of life. Some of them have a sad story of losing one or both of their parents while others have an even sadder story of not knowing their parents at all. Imagine what it would mean for you to live without your parents. Imagine not having the childhood memories that you have. The joy of getting a new dress or a new toy, the joy of sharing a meal with your extended family.
We can never put a price tag to certain life experiences. We can never trade the memories for anything because they eventually defined who we are today. We laughed, we cried, we hoped and anticipated. We were rewarded, we were denied. We gained and we lost. These experiences became a vital part of our childhood but they were not free. Someone paid the price for us to have the experience. They paid a price for us to have a roof on top of our heads and to be in good health to play with our friends. Someone paid the price for us to be in school to have the best of what we had. It was never free. It cost our parents.
Have you ever thought what a child who sleeps on a cold floor would feel the following day if he slept on a bed? Imagine what a kid in a children’s home would feel to be the first to wear a new dress or eat a meal that he has never had. To grow up healthy, every child needs to feel good about who they are and how they look. You and I have the power to shape the lives of the little angels who are in different children’s homes in Kenya. It is not their fault that they are in such circumstances and the little we do can seem inadequate and of little value.
No one ever changed the world by doing anything big. It’s in the seemingly small stuff that the world is changed. This Easter, you can do something small for the little kids in children’s homes. You can share a meal with them, you can boost their self-esteem by giving them the chance to be the first to wear the new clothes. You can buy foodstuff that will feed them for a few days. That’s not all you and I can do. We can sponsor a child through school or ultimately adopt one and bring them up under our roof teaching them the same values we were taught or we teach our own children.
It’s not just the role of the government to make their lives better. You and I have that responsibility as well. It is in our Holy Books but most of all it’s engraved in our hearts. This Easter as you make room in your house by selling items you don’t need, would you consider investing the money in a child’s life? Are there things in your house that you can sell to raise money to support a child? Sell and bless this Easter. Sell to Bless. Touch a Heart.
Edited by Wanjiku Kimaru