Courage and Humility for 2018

The day after making the ruling to nullify the Presidential election in Kenya in 2017, Supreme Court Judge and Chief Justice David Maraga was back at his church. Many did not agree with the ruling he and his fellow judges made, he was called all sorts of names, there was great tension in this country and there was already anxiety about the next phase of election campaigning.  Maraga had just sent a courageous and exciting message not just to Kenya but to the whole of Africa. For one short moment democracy trumped ethnicity, the voice of justice was stronger than the voice of politics and systems. He delivered a powerful verdict. Then, the next thing I see he was on my tv screen, humbly sitting in the middle of the church with his wife and surrounded by other members of the congregation, people who clearly knew him well.

 

I don’t know much about Maraga, I don’t know much about the in and outs of Kenyan politics and certainly don’t endorse any particular political views. In fact, one of the problems I find with Kenya politics is that is less on policy, more on personality, oversaturated in personal agendas and it sometimes looks to me that it is difficult to hold an ideological political viewpoint in Kenya. However, Maraga’s actions made me sit up. In my eyes, in just a couple of short days he had shown courage and humility. At the same time!

Courage and humility don’t seem like easy bed mates but I saw them in action together that weekend. Uniting courage and humility seems a challenge, the balancing act between the two seems difficult to me as they present as somewhat paradoxical and incompatible. In my perceptions, they are generally either / or practices rather than collaborative approaches to life, leadership and service. Courage for me seems to rely on my own strength and perhaps even ego while humility seemed to imply setting these aside. I have reflected greatly on this but the main question persists; how can I show courage and humility together?

For me and in the context in which I service, I look at courage required to tackle the injustices (the external issues) that I see all around, to bring my faith to conversation. Humility is having the necessary reflective skills to understand my own limitations, appreciates the strength of others, listen, empower and promote others and to make sure others be the heroes (the internal issues). 

So in 2018, I am eager to discover how best God can use me and what has given me to bring a humble and courageous witness of faith and justice into a hurting world. In other word, ‘walk humbly, love mercy, act justly’ (Micah 6:8). I want to reflect on this, I want to act on this and I want to live this out! Here goes…

The view from my step - KIbera Slum

I don’t often find myself alone in Kibera, a large sprawling informal settlement which is estimated to be the largest slum in the world. This week, sitting on a step with no one around, I surveyed the scene and an overwhelming sense of despair came across me just for a few minutes. No adults in sight, this is what I saw and smelt:

Sharp edged nails,

Electricity wires laid bare

Hazards all over.

Choking with fumes,

As unattended charcoal burns.

A cramped passageway,

Shoes drying on the roof,

Rubbish strewn all over.

Kids playing with fire,

Wearing castoff clothes.

A ‘Jingle all the way’ Jumpsuit

Even though it’s only April.

Washing above me,

Shit in the water below me.

Stolen railway sleepers bridging the way

To Muddled up houses with padlocks for door locks

Brown dirty water

Running like blood through the veins.

A mish mash of front doors.

Children classed as squatters.

Political posters everywhere,

Although, predictably, no politicians in sight.

Sandbags for steps

Leading to tiny houses

With overcrowded populations.

All in one 20 metre narrow compound

With odd shaped, over-lapping houses.

All from my solitary step.

I can’t imagine how this can be possibly be any better than living in the rural areas, better than family homes people abandoned to live here in search of a better life. But it is as apparently here you can earn something to get by. Kibera is desperate, that is until the children and the people come along to brighten it all up and give some light to its dingy corridors. Make no mistake successive governments have failed to address its complex issues, the NGO’s have struggled, while the church remains and things stay the same. As tears welled up in my eyes, three angry feeling question came to mind: Where is the hope? Where is the justice? What does the future hold?

As I sat there, many things struck me. We talk about overpopulation, pollution and corruption (which takes many forms) in the developed world but it never really touches our/my/your actual reality. Sure, it hits on my work realities but now I am asking if bringing numerous visitors here to see the excellent, incarnational work of The Salvation Army in this area actually helps me in distancing myself from the realities of the squalor, raw sewage and smells I am confronted with right now on my step.

Don’t get me wrong, there are lots of positives. People with strengths, children with potential, adults earning a living, an economic hub of sorts emerging and a strong sense of community. This is a huge part of the urbanisation story but it still seems wrong as I sit on my step.

What does justice actually look like in Kibera? As I look around, it is difficult not to reach the conclusion that one part of the world needs more - I am not even talking about more money; basic water and sanitation, health care and economic opportunities would be a start – and how most of us could easily live with less. The people of Kibera have proved the latter. There’s the lesson right there. Somehow the imbalance of wanting more and needing more, living with more and living with less needs to be corrected. Like a see saw moving to the middle, the scales of justice need to correct themselves somehow.

My mind tells me this is a global or societal approach, which I cannot do much to influence. Another tactic to deflect is subtly used. After all, there is not really very much I can do to make that much of a difference as all I do is pass through the slum areas on a regular basis. I have very little power, very little influence in a massive situation of contrast. These are my thoughts as I sit on my step. If the government can’t change things, then how on earth can little me. I reflect on my efforts as a Project Manager. They are questionable. 

Then it hits me really hard – the answer is sitting on my step. They only way things can possibly change is to simplify my life, improve my choices, share resources (again not talking just about money) and tell the story. I also have to learn to strategically support that process through my choices, my lifestyle and my work. I have to work out a way to amplify the voice of people living in the slums. to live justly  and then walk humbly with people as they tread the rain sodden, muddy paths of their homesteads. The solutions come from within wherever we are in the world we are sitting.

However, when all is said and done, it is difficult not to draw the conclusion:  there is only one real hope. That is why I am a Christian and that is why I am sitting on my step, answering my own questions, reflecting and praying!