Every culture has its “untouchables.” Every culture decides who their untouchables are. Are we any different? The culture’s outcasts are typically ignored by the average passers-by, no matter the country. The reasons vary, but the results are usually the same. These people are in view, but they are rarely “seen.”
This story can’t be adequately shared in a few paragraphs. The promise to you is that it will be worth the read.
It was in June of 2005. Our short-term Kenya mission team was about to wrap up nine days of orphanage ministry in four rural communities traveling as far out of the city of Kisumu as an hour each way. Kisumu is a city of about a million people on the eastern shore of Lake Victoria, the largest fresh water lake in Africa and second largest in the world.
At breakfast, David Grumme, Team Leader of Creative Communications at our church, asked if I’d like to accompany him to see the city dump known as Kachok. It had a reputation, not a good one, and he wanted to get some footage. Not wanting him to go alone, I tagged along with him and a local pastor not knowing what to expect. What could be so interesting about a garbage dump, anyway? What neither of us knew that morning changed both of us.
The smell arrived in our van before our van arrived at the source of the foul odors. What we saw first were acres of ground covered with garbage dumped there by trucks collecting refuse throughout the city several days a week. This was right in the middle of town, behind a box store equivalent to a Super Wal-Mart and next to a soccer stadium. So much for city regulations.
At first, there was no one in sight. Suddenly, a young man of about 30 comes running toward us shouting, waving his hands. He was not happy to see us. His English was sufficient to communicate his displeasure. As we were turning to leave – as though we felt we had a choice – another young man of about 35 came up behind us with a very different tone using words carefully chosen and gently spoken in excellent English. His name, John Orienda. He was the government official assigned to oversee the goings on at Kachok. David and I were really glad he was close by and saw the potential escalation of a situation that could have quickly spiraled downward.
John asked our purpose for being there. We shared we were Christians and had been in Kisumu and its outlying rural areas doing ministry in churches and orphanages. Suddenly, his countenance shifted from a concerned interest to a beaming smile the likes of which I’ve rarely seen. He welcomed us with a sincere and warm heart. He then asked if I would take the time to share the Good News of Jesus with the boys and men that he could gather together from within the dump site. A tense and uncertain situation suddenly became an open door of grace with the blessing and protection of the man in charge.
Within minutes, John had gathered about 25 males (from about ages 13 to over 50) under a huge shade tree and had them sitting orderly and quietly. He introduced David and me and told them in Swahili who we were and invited them to listen carefully. They did. We told them no matter their circumstances, they were known and loved by God. We told them about Jesus, why He came and what He did to bring them forgiveness and eternal life. We then asked if they would like to ask this Jesus into their broken lives. To a person, each one repented and trusted in Christ as Savior!
What they said next stunned us. “Would you come back tomorrow? There are others who need to hear this!” We agreed to do so, although we were leaving for a 9-hour van ride back toward Nairobi by 9 a.m.
We kept that appointment at 8 a.m. An additional 25 individuals emerged from the dump site. To a person, each of them accepted Jesus! We celebrated briefly with all 50 of them, said one last prayer and left, not to see them for another two years.
That was 2005. When we returned in 2007, we baptized 49 of the 50 in Lake Victoria. Thomas, the 50th person was among those to be baptized. He was killed in a road accident two days before our arrival. We paid for his burial. What had happened over those two years? Three godly men, John Orienda, Pastor Samson Otieno and Pastor Michael Sindala had been discipling those boys and men every week beneath that same tree on Thursday afternoons. They had formed a church that I’ve affectionately called the Church of the Dump for many years. Its actual name is Mahenga Baptist Church. In the 2007 visit, another 57 dump dwellers came to know Christ, with some women among them this time. In 2009, we returned and I baptized all 57 in Pastor Samson’s church, Shaurimoyo Baptist Church in Kisumu. In all, We’ve baptized 106 of Kisumu’s untouchables!
There are so many stories within this 14-year story. Some you’ll see posted elsewhere over time. But for now, just know that Mahenga Baptist Church is alive and thriving with their very own modest worship building standing right beside the Kachok Dump, not far from the big tree under whose shade it all began. I was there again with John Orienda, Pastor Samson and Pastor Michael in January of 2019 preaching and worshipping together. The malodorous environment hadn’t changed, but the believers who gathered together were most certainly offering up a sweet-smelling sacrifice of praise to the Christ who redeemed them! I can’t leave this story without telling you that two of the men who were among the first converts in 2005 are now the pastor and associate pastor of The Church of the Dump at Kachock – Mahenga Baptist Church. After all, changed lives change lives!