I was definitely apprehensive about hiking up a mountain with a bunch of children who were fasting and praying all day. I was imagining all the whining I would have done at that age had that been my task for the day. Strenuous exercise in the hot sun not eating all day? Forget about it.
However, the tenacity of these children surprised me once again. Not only did they not complain about their rumbling stomachs, but they led the way racing up and down the mountain in flip flops and school uniforms, starting the praise songs wherever we went. I started to think about the other ways the children are leading me and what sorts of prayers were on their hearts and minds that day… Their strength extended way beyond hiking up the mountain, that’s for sure.
What has been called “
Prayer Mountain,” dates back to pre-Christian times. I live in Meru, which is in the foothills of
Mt. Kenya, the second highest peak in Africa next to
Mt. Kilimanjaro.
Prayer Mountain is one of these foothills, and offered some incredible views. The various tribes used to climb the mountain ritualistically every so often. There was a certain spot that has been lovingly nubbed into the ground where it is said that if one stands there and prays, the prayers go directly to God and are answered most- assuredly. People used to stand there day and night shouting their prayers to the world below and heaven above.
There was my bright-eyed standard six pupil who was determined not to go three steps faster than me, always looking back to make sure I hadn’t stumbled, and when I did inevitably stumble, she was always there with an emphatic, “pole! (sorry)”. As we went “slowly by slowly” as they say, we talked. She was beaming after a recent lecture she had given to her fellow pupils on HIV/AIDS after she had gone through a special peer-educator training program. I was given the highlights of the talk which also touched on girls taking extra safety precautions to avoid rape. I mentioned that even when a girl is taking precautions, sometimes bad things happen anyway and it’s not and is never her fault. She turned to me very earnestly and said, “Teacher, I know, even me, I’ve been raped, but I can’t let it stop me. I have to keep going and reaching for my dreams.” On top of this, the man who raped her was a family member who also infected her with HIV. The news was a huge blow to me. She was among the most welcoming when I first arrived, bringing me random bouquets of flowers every so often, always handing her assignments in early. If that was the prayer I had on my heart going up the mountain, I’m pretty sure I would be crawling. But she kept going, and keeps reaching.
She wants to be a counselor or a doctor in the future. Later, I saw her enveloped in the circle for people with “special concerns” on their hearts. I realized again that none of these kids has it easy. There’s my smiley and shy standard eight pupil who was on an orphan scholarship from a foreign donor. There’s my guy in standard seven who recently lost his father to complications related to alcoholism. A lot of loss, a lot of trauma in these young lives. Maybe that’s why being a part of their education system is a valuable position as a YAV. They believe in this power of education to transform, to enrich, and to empower, and it’s been a privilege to watch some of this occurring.
I’ve been trudging my way through the Old Testament as of late, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Moses as I was up on that mountain with the children. God speaking to Moses in a cloud made more sense to me having this experience. God speaks in a dark mist, in disorienting circumstances…It must have been beyond difficult for Moses to sense God amid all the haziness of the directives to liberate the Israelites. Likewise, I can imagine my pupils in these dark clouds of their own lives, wondering what they’re doing on the mountain, how God could speak through the grey mist. And then, Moses comes down from the mountain transfigured, his face shining…
I wouldn’t say they were shining back down at the bottom of the mountain, but they proudly patted their hungry stomachs and smiled at me. Something had been released, something had begun to work in them…and me.
