A cursory glance at Wikipedia told me that this area of Kenya is an agricultural hub and Kitale's population is about 250k. Kitale is quite rural and no matter where we went we always seemed to be “off the beatin' path.” But there was something that everyone seemed to gladly share with us without an ounce of reservation: smiles. With few exceptions, people waved and said hello (or “jambo,” in Swahili) the instant eye contact was made. So many smiles. The kids would run to our vehicle and practice their English on us. “How are youuuuu how are youuuuu!” I can still hear it ringing in my ears. It’s beautiful.

Then we made it to the other side of Kitale. The edge of Kipsongo. Granted, we’re just driving through the outskirts of the slum so I haven’t fully experienced it yet. But with that said, the slum takes the staggeringly insane poverty that the city appears to be in and multiplies it to a level I can’t even explain. I don’t know what I’m going to do when we actually visit the interior of Kipsongo.

Our van was first to reach the school. It’s just on the perimeter of Kipsongo. We see a wall and barbed wire surrounding the grounds. An old man acting as guard opens a gate to let us in and there they are: 302 children all dressed in their school uniforms and lined up out in the school yard. Every child is singing thank you songs at the top of their lungs. The teachers at the school appeared to be overwhelmed to see us. The director of the school, Rebecca, was crying and hugging us one by one. The weight of our presence hit me. What MJC and Chicks for Children are doing here. So many emotions are running through every ounce of my body. 302 kids with ten times the smiles I’ve ever seen on anyone in my life. People looking at us as if a great miracle has just landed at their feet. I’m shaking hands with Rebecca for a good ten seconds and she’s thanking me over and over again. Tears on her cheeks. I feel so overwhelmed. I feel like a fraud. Like I’ve tricked her into thinking I have any business being here with everyone else. Yet somewhere deep inside me I know that this is exactly where I need to be. Later that day Rebecca said, “This is your home. This day has been written in a page for you to uncover since before you were born. You are supposed to be here.” Let's be honest, I'm sure Rebecca said that to everyone, but coupled with what was happening between my ears, it was pretty incredible to hear her say it. My eyes welled up as she explained how these children live each day as a remarkable blessing. And here I was stading in their school yard. About to meet every single one of them.

We were a part of a welcome ceremony in their dining hall. Each class prepared a song or poem for us. Remarkable voices. Beaming smiles. It was almost impossible not to be moved through the whole thing. One song in particular stood out to me. The children walked through stories about their lives. I can’t remember all the lyrics but one line struck a chord with me: “We looked into the darkness and instead we only saw light.”