Fr. Jim Collins, SJ
Chaplain
The School of Hope
Reflections on my experience as Chaplain of St Aloysius Gonzaga High School, an Ignatian school that serves AIDS affected orphans in Nairobi’s immense Kibera Slum.
It’s been a delight to serve as Chaplain of St Aloysius Gonzaga Secondary School in Nairobi’s Kibera Slum for these few months.
I guess it’s because the mission of this unique school is so critical to these young lives. If these great kids were not in this free school, then their hopes for an educated future would be dead. They would simply not be in school at all. Period! Game Over! Thanks for playing! They would be out looking for day labor or working as ‘house girls’.
Kibera is reputedly the largest slum in Africa. Each night some 800,000 souls sleep under the sea of corrugated steel roofs. And in the morning battalions of men and women march off to Nairobi looking for work. The sweaty wave of humanity returns in the evening, hopefully with enough money to feed the family. They follow a maze of passageways between mud thatch walls and step over piles of garbage and open running sewers to reach the one room shanty that the whole family calls home.
Tucked in the middle of this slum is a “school of hope,” as one student calls it. St Aloysius Gonzaga School offers a high quality, cost-free secondary education to 270 students. Nearly all of them are “single or double” orphans. They have been personally “affected” though not “infected” by the HIV/AIDS pandemic. I’ve discovered that it’s a bit tricky to attain accurate information about a family’s HIV history. AIDS is rarely listed on the death certificate as the official cause of death. The persistent cultural taboo of HIV prohibits even the students themselves from knowing which mysterious illness killed their parents. They just think it’s a coincidence that both their parents died of “TB, pneumonia or stomach problems” within a year of each other while living “up country” in rural Kenya. This code language cloaks the reality of an AIDS affected family.
Their poverty motivates them. None of them doubt that education is their only hope to get out of the slum. So they study as if their future lives depend on it. From 6 am until 5:30 pm they are at this shabby, cramped, hot and noisy school building of corrugated steel and mud walls. Saturdays included! They are there with an attitude of gratitude because they consider themselves the lucky ones. They desperately want to fulfill their dreams of becoming an “equal with those in the nearby estates” as one student puts it. And the school is empowering them believe that they can! Many come from the same Luo tribe as Barack Obama’s father so they must have inherited the “Yes We Can” spirit. They aspire to become journalists, teachers, nurses, lawyers, doctors or maybe even Kenyan politicians. The school motto is, “United to Learn, Love and Serve.” They speak of how they hope to “pay it forward” someday by helping “the orphans in the slums.” Imagine that, orphans studying in order to help other orphans.
Despite their stories of suffering and grief, these kids have a hope as rugged and resilient as the slum itself. They somehow find a relative or Good Samaritan to welcome them into their own cramped Kiberan shanty and to support them while they study. I am amazed at the sacrifices these families make so that someone from the next generation can have a chance at an education. I got to meet Aunt Mary who is a single parent with four young children of her own. She’s a saint for taking in three additional young “upcountry cousins” while they attend St Al’s. She considers herself an ‘entrepreneur’ vegetable seller even though she hobbles around on crutches. That’s because her right leg was amputated due to an accident in the slum some years ago. The one room shanty is small but Aunt Mary’s heart apparently has lots of room!
As school chaplain, I’ve had opportunities to teach some religion classes and “Education For Life” classes. I made time to hang out with the students during their porridge and lunch breaks. I got a kick out of hearing them playfully make fun of my American accent! Kenyans seem always ready to burst into laughter.
The school provides a simple lunch of corn and red beans on most days, or rice and lentils when they’re lucky. (Note to self: Beware of the small jawbreaker stones hidden in the lentils!) I’m amazed to see the quantity of food these adolescents can devour! But then, maybe it’s their only descent meal each day.
I’ve helped them celebrate a few “All School Masses.” The spectacular student choir and dancers provide the rhythm and energy for the liturgy. I couldn’t figure out how to preach about Lenten fasting and abstinence to this audience. Hope and joy seems more appropriate for them as they “practice for Easter.” In one Mass, I received a call from Jesus Christ himself on my mobile phone right in the middle of a homily! He verified that, “It’s good for us to be here!”
I took it upon myself to “baptize” the school in Jesuit ideals! I spoke in each of the classes about the universal Ignatian language. I explained that students from Jesuit schools around the world would all know what A.M.D.G. means. They were interested to learn that St Aloysius students are now part of a worldwide “club”. This school is a part of a worldwide mission that is forming and informing Men and Women For, and With, Others. The Arts Club made posters of the “Take Lord Receive” prayer and the “Prayer of Generosity.” These two familiar Ignatian prayers now adorn the walls of each classroom and are prayed at the beginning of each school day.
I had the privilege of soliciting and writing nearly 30 biographical accounts of students and teachers at St Al’s. You can review them at http://stalsnairobi.podbean.com/ . My intention was to let students tell their stories of how they came to St Al’s and how it has revived their hope for a better future. I thought that my friends and family might be interested in their amazing stories of tragedy, grief, poverty and how their experiences at St Al’s are transforming their lives.
What surprised me was how honored the students were to see their own words and photos in print. I suspect that giving them a forum, a voice, to proclaim their story for the world to hear might help dignify their lives. I hope that hearing their own redemptive narrative might help them make meaning of their struggle. To see for themselves that hope is being vindicated over despair.
But what most astonished me about investigating and chronicling all these biographies was how it affected me. These brave kids willingly entrusted their histories, struggles and dreams to me and to an unknown audience. My heart has definitely gained some new occupants. Their words were the sacred raw material which I simply crafted into their unique gospels of good news. They were held up as heroes in the universal crusade against hopelessness. They schooled me in the virtue of hope; again, and for the first time. In the end, it wasn’t voyeuristic. It gave us access to witness the audacity of hope itself.
But these days graduating from high school isn’t enough to secure a good job in Kenya. The St Al’s Graduate Program supports them through their college years as well. Many will end up in vocational schools or Junior Colleges. Only the very best can snatch a coveted seat in a Kenyan University. In the 8 months between graduation and entering college, all the grads do full time volunteer ministry at various social service agencies, NGO’s and primary schools throughout Kibera. My favorite work was meeting with these recent grads on Fridays to do theological reflection on their ministry experiences. I got to listen in as they shared stories and watch them skillfully uncover God’s fingerprints in their lives and work. Using the “Ignatian Pedagogical Paradigm” of “Experience - Reflection - Action,” they are becoming Ignatian discerners – Finding God in All Things!
As I return to Chicago, I will go with a heart full of Kenyans. I will miss the well-trod path through the maze of shanties to reach the school of hope. I will miss the steady stream of “National Geographic” mental photographs encountered in the slum. I will miss the chorus of toddlers instinctively chanting “How Are You” to every Muzungu (foreigner) that ventures by. I will miss seeing the adorable old lady who chops and sells firewood in the neighborhood. Each day we smile and greet each other from across the language barrier. Even she knows what we are doing there. We are educating hope into the youth of her slum.
To learn more about and support St. Al’s, please visit the website http://www.sagnairobi.org/ or call 1-800-922-5327 at the Chicago Province of the Society of Jesus - http://www.jesuits-chi.org/
