Walking into ministry in Africa I would expect difficulties. Deciding to work with and love street kids I knew that hardship was inevitable. But nothing could prepare me for this.
We opened our new halfway house yesterday and so it was a day that was meant to be filled with rejoicing and excitement. Two of the boys that were supposed to be staying in the house hadn’t shown up but we hadn’t been too concerned because sometimes the boys forget things or something small will happen that distracts them. Later on in the evening one of the boys started to tell an uncle about events from the previous night while we were buying porridge for the morning.
Boys had been taken.
Not by police or city council. Taken.
Three people had come in the middle of the night, one Ugandan, and two white people and had started grabbing kids. Four boys were taken. So far we only know the identities of three that are gone – William, Nicolas, and Mukenya. All boys that are ours, boys in our programs, all our children. William and Nicolas should have been there at the house. For those two boys it was to be their last night on the street before being somewhere safe and warm. I had talked with William the day before at our programs. He clung to my hand with such joy, looking forward to what Saturday had to offer. He is one of the sweetest boys I have met; humble and quiet, smart and respectful, always wanting to learn and study – never fighting or using drugs. As I said goodbye to William on Friday afternoon, the thought didn’t cross my mind that I wouldn’t see him again. Nicolas is so small, so fragile, so innocent. He wouldn’t stand a chance against anyone who wanted to do anything bad to him.
Sharrif is one who watched all of this happen, who saw his best friends be stolen in the night. Who saw Nicolas be pulled away while he slept. The men tried to take Sharrif as well but he fought hard and ran fast. My little Sharrif – I am so thankful he is a fighter. Sharrif saw my tears last night as I learned that my boys had been kidnapped and comforted me. As we prayed at the end of the night with all of the boys the tears still came. From his place in my lap Sharrif reached up and wiped my tears away.
Gosh it hurts, and I am so angry. Angry that God didn’t let us know somehow that we just needed to take them in on Friday night instead of Saturday. Angry that helpless, innocent boys are taken advantage of, are sold, are sacrificed. Angry that it had to be my boys. And I am filled with such intense sorrow and grief that I’m not quite sure yet how to handle. Please be praying. Despite the dark circumstances we know that with God all things are possible, that he is capable of saving all people in all circumstances. And please be praying that we would find the people who are kidnapping kids, that justice would be brought for them.
This week has been difficult due to the pain and thought of losing Ivan, but right now my heart just aches and I feel sick with pain. These are boys that will be forgotten, that few knew even their names. These are boys that each had a piece of my heart and will forever have that piece.

by jessie
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