The following story was written by Greg Burns from Minden Nevada in response to his time spent at the Mathare slums in January of 2006.

“In as much as you’ve done it to the least of them, so you have done it unto me.”  Jesus spoke these words to the disciples on the Mount of Olives.  When you hear the words “the least of them,” what image comes to your mind? Would it be a street person, perhaps an orphan child? The unseen people tucked into corners of a society that is too embarrassed to even admit they exist?  On Saturday, January 15, 2006 I witnessed just these people, whom we would probably consider “the least of them,” and I was introduced to Christians who, by caring for “the least,” serve the very King Himself. The following is a brief review of that life-changing encounter.

Preconceptions:

Prior to my first visit to the Nairobi slums, I had many misconceptions about what my trip would accomplish. I figured that I had something they needed. Little did I know that there was nothing  I could give them that day. I was to learn that there would be so much that they would give to me. I thought that the horrific slum conditions would overwhelm me – the needy, the helpless, and the hungry children. I thought I had their problem all figured out. All I needed to do was capture their story, tell it to others and bingo, money raised and the problem solved. What I was unprepared for was the change that would come over me. I can only explain it as a work of God’s Holy Spirit. I will never be the same.

Statistics and the facts of life and death:

As I sat in my comfortable Nairobi Hotel banquet hall, I noted how the eggs were watery and pale. The bacon tasted more like tough ham. That morning someone at the hotel asked where if I would be going on safari – as that is the purpose for most mazungu’s (white man) visits here. When the local heard that I was here to visit the Mathare slum, the response was an “oh” and then silence. Mathare is notoriously the most dangerous and most filthy of the many slums in Nairobi and most Nairobi natives have only seen it from the perimeter.

Most have come to live in Mathare as the result of a trip gone bad. Most sold what little they had on their farms hundreds of miles away to come to the city where it is rumored that there are good paying jobs. The jobs don't exist and when the migrants run out of money they end up in the slums. Most have been here for decades. In their own way, they become comfortable there. They are to embarrassed and broke to go home - perhaps like the lost son parable of the Bible. 

The unemployment rate in the slums is 70%. Those who can find "day labor" earn about $1.00 to $1.50 per day. A shanty costs $5 to $10 per month to rent. The smell in the slums is something to behold. There is the obvious human sewage. Residents deposit their waste into plastic bags when they can, and throw them either into the ditch in the alley or the ink-black Nairobi river which runs through the middle of the slum. The bags have earned the nickname of "flying toilets".  There are every form of farm animal in the slum from chickens, pigs, goats, to cows along with their droppings. The most overwhelming smell that emanates from the slum though, is that of burning wood charcoal. This is the way that all cook their meals along the alley-ways.  the consolation is that it disguises the other more offensive smells. 

The School:

There were 1240 children in the combined classrooms in January.  There are 43 college-educated teachers who earn an average of $110 per month. They trek through the slums each morning and arrive by 7:00. They meet as a group for prayer. They pray for God's continued provision for the children and they thank Him for what they have. My guess is that the entire staff of 43 earns about the average family income at my home church. Most teachers are there until 6PM during the week and again on Saturday for a half day schedule. Many teachers volunteer as Sunday school teachers and pastors on Sunday. 

In my life, I will never meet a group of committed Christians who give so much of themselves in the worst of conditions, in exchange for so little.  I have learned about the dire social and family issues facing every child.  Teachers are the only adults many of these children will ever know as “mom and dad”. Fortunately, most children are HIV negative, but they will only remain that way with an education that provides them a future.  I stand awestruck, baffled, but convinced that such selfless lifestyles can only be the product of lives completely given to Christ and empowered by the Holy Spirit.  I am speechless upon seeing happy, smiling children in the midst of such adversity.  I see now why Jesus’ heart cares so much for the simplicity of a child.  He so, so loves them. What a legacy to consider: Nearly 90 years ago an American missionary shared the gospel with a 7 year-old boy - Pastor Daniel's father.

I am humbled in the presence of men and women of God who give what I think is impossible – all of one’s self.  When Jesus said those words, “In as much as you have done to the least of them you have done it unto me”, He was speaking explicitly of the children of Mathare Valley.  Where can any less be found on God’s green earth?  

So where does this leave me?  I have two choices. Either I follow God’s command and help the least or I disobey Him and join the rest of the world by intentionally turning a blind eye toward the poorest of the poor.  As I write this on my flight home, I peer over the shoulder of a man and view a two-page British newspaper article. The title reads, “The Country Prays for a Whale.”  How can a world give more regard to animals and to the size of chicken cages than the children of Nairobi? But they do. The country of Kenya denies the existence of the Mathare slum and the United Nations African offices are but 10 minutes away. I don’t think you will find world politicians holding a press conference in the Mathare slums. It is not a comfortable place to spend time for the faint of heart.

In the months to come, Bridge Ministries of Carson City will have a defined plan to assist the children of Mathare Valley. When you happen across Mathew 25:40 again, please consider the children of Mathare as “the least of them”. May God continue to use us for His own glory in serving these children. While they may be considered “the least,” we are the ones who have everything to lose in ignoring God’s call to Mathare Valley.

The following story was taken from a journal entry by Dan Key who visited Mathare with some other volunteers from Kentucky sometime in 2000-2002. Dan does a good job of painting a picture of life in this place.  

It is a place like no other I have visited, not in Belize or Jamaica
or Costa Rica. The Mathare slum is three kilometers from the center of
Nairobi, and it is home to half a million people. It is the largest and
worst slum in Africa. They tell me there is a larger slum in India, and
perhaps one in South America. But Mathare is the one that is mine now.

    They come to Nairobi from rural areas to look for work. There is no
work.  Mathare was " built" over many years on top of a garbage dump as more
and more people settled there. It is a long strip of tin and wooden shacks
and earthen walls constructed on both sides of a small stream. The stream
runs through a small valley with steep sides, and the slum is at first
difficult to see, almost intentionally hidden beneath the natural movement
of your eye.

    We descended to the slum from the edge of the valley on narrow
paths, which were slippery from the previous night's rain. The effect of
walking through the narrow dirt pathways between the dirt and tin and sticks
and old boards is like entering a series of trenches. At times I felt we
were almost underground. But beneath its tin and tarpaper cover, Mathare
teems with the daily life of poor, idle people. They work and wait and
watch, and suffer almost silently. Small children are everywhere, and many
pregnant women.  There is no one my age. They died, without even knowing
what it means to be HIV positive. The older boys and young men stand,
brooding, watching the visitors intently, watching for things to steal.

    We were escorted into the slum by five young evangelists, young men,
young criminals converted from the leaders of the community of criminals
that inhabits the slum and preys upon the defenseless. They walk close
beside us and my new friend Willis tells me we will not be harmed if they
are near us.  He knows the people and politics of the slum.

    In the midst of this garbage and humanity, saints have started a
ministry that has no resources except God and people. They now feed around
1000 kids a day breakfast and dinner.

    A volunteer staff of teachers has organized a school for these
children. The classrooms looked and felt like stables. It is a school with
dirt floors, earth walls, no sanitation, and no ventilation. Open sewers run
through the center of these "hallways"; sometimes the sewer, the stream, is
the hallway, the path. The kids are dressed in clothes they have been given,
passed down time and time again. They are dirty and diseased. The clothes
are rags on some, and their bare feet or hand me-down shoes are muddy.  They
all stand expectantly and respectfully as we enter their classrooms.  They
repeated their memory verses, and each of the kids has at least ten verses
memorized  to recite with his class. Then each class sang the songs they had
learned for us. Their voices are surprisingly strong and beautiful.  Vernon
took their pictures with the Polaroid and they beamed. The books are pieces
of paper with newspaper "covers" and scotch tape bindings.  We prayed and
went on to the next class.

    While the kids ate lunch we went to Daniel's "office". They did not
give us the food the kids were eating. They had saved to buy us a feast of
meat and extra vegetables, and sodas so the bacteria in the water would not
upset our stomachs. We met Grace who runs the school. She left her job as a
social worker to join this Outreach.  She told us she likes working here
because the children and people are so receptive to the ministry,  "They
have no other hope". She has four children of her own at home.  We attended
a chapel service and the "choir" sang a song titled "The River of God". It
is a celebration song. "The river of God is alive with laughter; we rejoice
for the river is here."

    Willis confided in me that one of the girls that talked to him on
the way to the chapel thought we were there to build another bridge over the
polluted stream that runs through the slum. It starts to pour rain outside
while the choir is singing. Daniel tells us African tradition says the rain
is God welcoming the visitors. I mostly thought about the dark brown stream
and sliding through the muddy passages.

    Vernon asked me to share a short message. I talked about Jesus
offering "living water" to the woman at the well in Samaria. Everyone
avoided Samaria, the same way we drove around Mathare Valley the first day
we were in Nairobi. We did not even know it was there, though we drove just
along the edge of it . But we came back, because we wanted to find Jesus.
Mathare Valley is exactly where Jesus would be if he were on earth today,
and he would offer everyone in Mathare Valley his "living water"; the most
precious of all gifts. Life for our soul. Hope for the hopeless.  Jesus
prayed in the 17th chapter of John that all believers would be brought to
complete unity; " that they may be one as we are one". By this unity, the
world would know that God sent Jesus, and that God loves them even as he
loved his only Son. I told the people at Mathare Valley that I thought God
had sent us to tell them  we were one family of believers with them, and
that God loved them very much.

    The total budget for the Mathare Community Outreach is less than
$45,000 per year. Most of it comes from Compassion International and is
restricted to buying food. Daniel and Magdalene Ogutu, the founders and
inspiration of this Outreach, tell us their biggest need now is a way to
send the young kids to school. The children from their small primary school
excel on the state sponsored tests to enter secondary school. Unless those
students have a way to pay the $600 per year for tuition and books and a
mattress, their education will soon come to an end. Daniel estimated they
have 20 students per year  that could go on to secondary school. It seems to
me if there is any hope of ending this cycle of poverty, it starts with an
opportunity for these kids to continue their education. It is a need and a
hope I feel passionate about.