The Mystery of the Kenyan King (Kristi Cameron Book 4)

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The Mystery of the Kenyan King (Kristi Cameron Book 4) Page 4

by Cynthia Griffith


  “Sure. Let’s start here with little Marcus.” Lisa turned to the little boy in the bed closest to her. “Marcus fell in his mother’s cooking fire a few weeks ago and burnt both his hands and part of his face and neck. He is doing much better now, though, and his burns are healing. He will have to have some surgery, but fortunately the burns were not as bad as they could have been and they got him here quickly.” The child was covered in bandages. His mother sat by his side with a tiny baby in her lap. “Jambo, Marcus!” Kristi said softly as she knelt by his side. “Habari? How are you?” She stroked the top of his head that was peeking out from the bandages.

  “Nzuri. Good.”

  “We have a gift for you!” Robyn handed her a teddy bear she had pulled from her backpack. Kristi placed it on the little boy’s bed, near his uninjured cheek, where he could feel its softness. A smile lit up his face and he whispered, “Asante sana.”

  One by one they went through the room meeting the sick and injured children and passing out toys. “This is Lily,” Lisa would tell them. “She has been very ill with malaria.” Or “Here’s Samuel. We removed a tumor from his face.” Or “Tamara, these are our friends from America. Tamara needs an operation on her heart, but we need to get her strong enough for the surgery first.” Each child was given a warm hug or gentle stroke, and a toy. Some received stuffed animals or dolls, but those who were well enough were delighted with little cars or action figures or tiaras. Skeeter had managed to come up with more lollipops, too, for everyone. By the time they had gone all around the room there was a smile on every face, and even happy chatter and laughter.

  “Kwaherini! Goodbye! Asante sana!” A chorus of thanks echoed behind them as they finally left the children’s ward. They had promised to come back later that afternoon with a puppet show and more surprises.

  “What a blessing that was!” Rachel Cameron said.

  “Oh, Mommy, it was so sad, and yet so wonderful to see how just a little toy and a bit of kindness cheered them up so much! I can’t wait until this afternoon!” Kristi said.

  “It’s funny how we go in there expecting to make them feel better, but we come out feeling pretty great ourselves!” Skeeter said.

  “Well, that’s what the Bible says. It’s more blessed to give than to receive!” Dan agreed.

  They had walked back out to the veranda by that time. The crowd of people had gone down some, but Kristi couldn’t help noticing a girl standing at the very end of the line. Apparently she had come after they’d gone inside. She looked to be about Kristi’s own age, but she had a baby tied to her back and she was holding a toddler by the hand. Several other children huddled about her. The look of despair on her face made Kristi’s heart break. She wondered what had happened to her and why she was here.

  Just then the girl looked up and their eyes met. Kristi smiled, but the girl dropped her eyes and looked at the ground. Kristi turned to her brother. “Skeeter, do you have any more of those lollipops?” she whispered. He nodded and emptied his pockets. Good! There were six—just enough.

  Kristi walked over to the girl and the children with her. “Jambo!” she said, smiling. “Habari?”

  “Nzuri,” the girl said softly, still not looking up.

  “Jina langu Kristi. Jina lako nani?” The girl looked up then before ducking her head once more. “Jina langu Hannah. Hannah Mbati,” she said softly. She reached down and picked up the little fellow who was clinging to her hand.

  “Hannah! That’s a pretty name!” Kristi reached out and touched her arm. “I’m sorry—I don’t know much Swahili.”

  Hannah looked at Kristi’s hand on her arm and then looked up again and stared into Kristi’s face. “It is okay. I speak a little English,” she said haltingly.

  “You do? Good! Why are you here, Hannah? Are you sick?” Kristi asked.

  “No, it is my brother Joel. He hurt his foot.” Hannah pointed to the boy standing next to her. Kristi looked down and noticed for the first time that he was standing on one foot and leaning against Hannah. A wide gash in the injured foot was still oozing blood.

  “Oh! Let me get someone to help you!” Kristi hurried away, but a minute later she was back with one of the nurses and an old wheelchair for Joel.

  “He cut it with a panga—unasemaje how do you say?—a machete,” Hannah explained to the nurse. She turned back to Kristi. “Asante. Thank you.” Suddenly her eyes welled up with tears. She lowered her head onto the toddler she was holding and began to cry. The other children looked up at her in concern and Kristi realized they were all on the verge of tears.

  “Look!” Kristi said, holding up the lollipops. “I have some thing good for you! Yum-yum!” She quickly handed a lollipop to the littlest one, and then to each of the other children clinging to Hannah. The nurse was cleaning Joel’s foot, but he looked eagerly at the treat in Kristi’s hand and she gave one to him, as well.

  With the younger children distracted, Kristi turned back to Hannah. “Are you okay? Can I help you in some way? Where is your mother? Should we send for her?”

  Hannah shook her head. “My mother died last week. My father died a year ago. We are alone. I must care for my brothers and sisters now. I have no money to pay the daktari…” She waved her hand in Joel’s direction, unable to finish the sentence.

  “Oh, please don’t worry about that,” Kristi said. “I am sure they will take care of him here anyway. I am so sorry to hear about your mother, Hannah. What can I do to help you?” She turned towards her own mother and the rest of the group who were waiting for her by the gate. “Mom! Come here!” she called urgently. Rachel hurried to her side and Kristi quickly explained the situation to her.

  “Oh, you poor things!” Rachel exclaimed. She hugged Hannah first, and then each of the other children. “God has sent us here to help you, Hannah,” she said firmly to the teenager. “What do you need first of all, once Joel’s foot is taken care of?”

  Hannah wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and said, “We have not eaten since yesterday morning. My little sisters and brothers are hungry. I can go a long time without food, but they cry and it hurts me that I cannot feed them.”

  “Well, we can take care of that right away!” Rachel said. “Why don’t we go across the road to the place where we are staying and we will fix you all some food. If it is okay with you, we will leave my husband and son with Joel while the doctor takes care of him and they will bring him over there when he is ready. We can feed the little ones more quickly, though, if you will go with us now.”

  Hannah seemed to understand and she turned to Joel. She spoke to him in Swahili and he nodded his head. “He says he will stay with your husband and son, and that we should go. Thank you. Asante sana.”

  By that time the rest of the group had gathered around Kristi and Hannah and the children. Rachel filled them in on what was happening and Steve and Dan agreed easily to stay with Joel. Kristi reached for the toddler in Hannah’s arms. He went to her happily, waving his sticky sucker close to her nose. Anna and Robyn each took one of the little sisters by the hand and they all went through the gate and across the road to the housing compound.

  The guest house was cool when they walked in out of the hot sun. Rachel urged Hannah and the children to rest in the living room while they prepared a meal for them. They stared in amazement at the soft couches and ran their hands over the smooth fabric. The little girls bounced a bit as they sat down and they giggled. Hannah sat down carefully, as if she were afraid to relax. A tear slipped down her cheek.

  “Would you like something to drink while my mother is fixing your food, Hannah?” Kristi asked softly. She was thirsty, and she knew their guests must be also.

  Hannah nodded her head and said, “Tafadhali. Please.”

  Kristi hurried to the kitchen and filled a tray with glasses of cool water. As she returned to the living room she couldn’t help remembering the conversation they had had back in California just a week ago. “In the name of Jesus,” she whispered as sh
e handed a tall glass of water to Hannah.

  “Katika jina la Yesu,” Hannah repeated in Swahili. “In the name of Jesus.”

  __________

  CHAPTER FIVE

  __________

  A Father to the Orphan

  The group had sent money ahead of them to the missionaries for food so that when they got there the refrigerator and cupboards were stocked with food. They had planned to have most of their meals on their own, knowing how busy the missionaries were, so the lunch and supper they had shared with them the day before had been special. Julie Williams told them they would send over Kenyan workers every day to help them with the cooking and cleaning.

  Now Rachel and Anna scurried about the kitchen looking for something they could fix in a hurry. It was still early, so the girl who was supposed to make their lunch had not yet come over to start the preparations. Robyn and Kristi were in the living room helping with the children and trying to make Hannah feel at ease.

  “How about eggs?” Rachel said to Anna. “And rice? I think I read that rice and beans are staples of the African diet. We don’t have time to cook beans, but we can cook some rice and mix it in with the eggs and some chopped vegetables. Does that sound okay to you?”

  “I don’t know anything about African cooking, Mrs. Cameron, but if they’re hungry I’m sure that whatever we fix will taste fine to them. Why don’t we have Skeeter and Pete come in here and help us chop those tomatoes and onions?”

  “Good idea! Skeeter! Pete! Could you please come into the kitchen?

  The two guys were soon chopping. They were slow, but precise. Skeeter looked up with red, watery eyes. “Phew! These onions are strong! They’re making me cry! And you know I hate to see a grown man cry!”

  Robyn just happened to walk into the kitchen as he said that. “Grown man? What grown man? I don’t see a grown man!” she teased. “I love to see you in tears, Skeeter! I just knew you were the sensitive type!”

  A knock at the door saved her from Skeeter. She scooted out of the kitchen with a giggle. Rachel opened the door to the girl Julie had sent over to help with the cooking.

  “Just in time!” Rachel said after she had introduced herself. “We’re so happy to have you here, Jane. Can you tell us if we’re cooking this correctly, the Kenyan way? We have some hungry children to feed.”

  Jane assured them they were doing just fine. She added a little more oil and salt, and then produced a bag of chapatis to go with the meal. She made a pot of chai, or tea, for them to drink, although Rachel insisted she wanted to give the children milk.

  Rachel called Hannah and her little brothers and sisters to the kitchen when the food was ready. Their eyes were big as they sat down to the simple meal. “So much food!” Hannah murmured. She sat with the baby in her lap, ready to feed him from a little bowl, but when they set a plate before her she shook her head. “No, no. Please save this food for Joel,” she said. “I can go without. I am strong.”

  “There is plenty of food here for Joel, Hannah. We will make sure he eats, too, but this food is for you. You must eat so that you can stay strong and take care of your family. They need you,” Rachel said.

  Hannah bowed her head. Then she began to pray. “Father, thank you for these friends and for Your love. Thank you for my brothers and sisters. Please help Joel’s foot to heal. And thank you for this food. In Jesus’ name, amen.” It was a sim ple prayer, but everyone there knew it came from the heart.

  “Are you a Christian, Hannah?” Kristi asked as Hannah and the children began to eat.

  “Yes. My mother made sure we always went to church after the missionaries came to our village. She accepted Jesus as her Savior, and so did Joel and my sisters and I. I pray that my baby brothers will someday, too. My father was not a believer until just before he died, but now I know that I will see him again someday in Heaven, also.”

  “What are your little sisters’ and brothers’ names, Hannah?” Rachel asked.

  “My sisters are Mary and Martha. They are nine and seven years old. Daniel is three. We call him Little Simba because he struts around like a little lion, so proud and strong. The baby is Isaiah. He is not yet one year old. Joel is eleven and I am fourteen years old. We had two other brothers, also, but they both died when they were babies.”

  Kristi, Robyn and Anna looked at one another. Hannah was their age. She had already seen so much tragedy and loss in her life, and now she was responsible for her five younger sisters and brothers. They tried to imagine themselves in her place but could not.

  “You speak English very well, Hannah,” Anna said.

  She shrugged. “I studied hard until I had to quit school and help my mother.”

  “What will you do now?” Skeeter asked. “Do you have a house?”

  “We have a little house—not like this one, of course—but the garden has burnt up in the drought. I do not know how I will feed the children. I have no job—and how could I care for them if I did?”

  “Have you thought about the orphanage, Hannah?” Rachel asked gently. “Perhaps they can help you.”

  “No! I know they would take care of them there, and be kind to them, but I promised my mother I would keep us together as a family. I must try, at least. I am too old to go to the orphanage with them. Many girls my age are already married and have babies of their own.”

  The girls exchanged glances again, hardly able to hide their shock. Married at fourteen! Why, they weren’t even dating yet!

  Hannah was trying to be brave and strong, but her lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears once more. Rachel patted her on the shoulder and gave her a little hug. “Don’t worry, Hannah. Remember, your Heavenly Father has prom ised to supply your needs. He takes care of the little birds and the flowers of the field. He will take care of you, too. And He has promised to be a father to the orphan, Hannah. Let’s pray right now and ask Him to help you, okay?”

  The young people in the room, black and white, joined hands and bowed their heads, and Rachel began to pray. “Our Father, you know Hannah and her precious little family, and You know the needs they have right now. We ask You, Lord, to supply these needs according to Your will. We ask that You will give Hannah wisdom and strength beyond her years in leading her family, and we ask especially that you will give each one of these dear children peace and comfort in the loss of their mother. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen.”

  She had no sooner finished praying when Steve and Dan came in with Joel. “Good news!” Steve said as they entered the kitchen. “The cut wasn’t as bad as it looked at first. No serious damage done. They put in fifteen or twenty stitches, and he’ll soon be as good as new. Now, this boy is hungry! What have you got to eat?”

  They set a plate before Joel and soon he was happily dig ging into eggs and rice. A big grin on his face told them he had forgotten his foot already.

  While Joel ate, Kristi introduced the rest of the family to her dad and Dan. “Hey, Daniel!” Dan said as he knelt by the little boy. “We have the same name! Did you know there was a man named Daniel in the Bible? God closed the mouths of lions so they couldn’t hurt him because he was faithful to God.” He rubbed the top of the little boy’s head affection ately and grinned at the cute little kid. Hannah translated what he had said for her little brother, and he giggled and grinned back.

  By the time Joel had finished his lunch, the rest of the youth group had trooped in. Jen and Barb and the others on their team were excitedly talking about their morning at the orphanage. “Hey, it wasn’t that bad!” Dave was saying. “I even changed a diaper! It was just a wet one, so it wasn’t too stinky,” he informed the other guys.

  “No, but he got peed on!” Randy laughed.

  “Nah. The little pipsqueak missed. I ducked real fast and it went right over my head!” The other teens roared.

  “Hey, who’s this?” Rob asked as they entered the kitchen.

  Kristi introduced them all to Hannah and explained how they had met. The teens’ eyes were wide with sympath
y when they heard the plight of the young family. “We got a little sidetracked from our project in the hospital, though, Pastor Tim,” Kristi confessed.

  “That’s okay. It looks like the Lord had other plans for you this morning,” he replied.

  Skeeter suddenly spoke up. “Hey, I’ve been watching my friend Joel here eating and I just realized—I’m hungry! What’s for lunch, Mom?”

  “You’ll have to ask Jane. She’s the one who prepared it.”

  Jane smiled. “It is what the missionaries call—how do you say it?—Kenyan ‘fast food’. Samosas! I got up very early this morning and made enough for all.”

  “What are samosas?” Skeeter asked. “Hamburgers? Hot dogs?”

  “You’ll see! If everyone will wash up and help carry things out to the pavilion, we will eat very soon.”

  The teens and their chaperones were soon seated at the tables out back. They had insisted Hannah and her family join them and have a little more to eat, just to “fill up the corners,” as Skeeter put it. Jane assured them there was plenty of food and that they were welcome.

  They had just bowed their heads and closed their eyes to ask God’s blessing on the food when Buddy came tearing into the yard, barking his head off. Pastor Tim stopped in the middle of his prayer and they all opened their eyes. There at the food table at the other end of the pavilion were four monkeys, about to help themselves to the samosas! Buddy charged the monkeys, growling and snapping. The little thieves ran off screeching and howling, over the thorny hedge.

  Buddy trotted back to the pavilion, his tail waving in the air like a banner, and a proud, satisfied look on his face. He had done his duty! Now for his reward! Just as the teens started clapping and cheering for him, he glanced toward the food table and made a wild dash. He grabbed two samo sas at once in his mouth and disappeared in a mad sprint around the corner of the house!

 

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