If somebody had told me what I would see in Kado that day, I would have said it was not true. But I saw it with my own eyes, and my heart has not remained the same since then.
*A new chapter has begun.*
After much prayer and preparation, my colleague and I moved to a new orphanage, Destined, to train the children there. It was our first day, and we knew the first impression mattered.
When I got to Destined Children Orphanage Home in Kado, my heart was beating with expectation.
I did not meet the Mummy in charge that day. She was not around. But I met the Orphanage Manager, and she received us with kindness and respect.
I did not go alone. My colleagues and I went together, with one heart and one purpose.
We had written a memo before we came. In that memo, we documented everything concerning our planned activity there. We wanted it to be proper, not just a visit. We wanted to train them, to raise some musical awareness in them, and above all, to show them love.
To give them hope. To give them a proper sense of belonging in our society. To let them know that they are not forgotten.
The Manager listened to us patiently. She collected our documents, read through them, and then she stamped our file copy. That stamp meant something to me. It meant our dream had been accepted. It meant the door had been opened.
Then we sat down and agreed together on a weekend, a Saturday when all the children will be available. That day will be for our introductory activities. Our first meeting with them.
*What We Have Prepared For Them*
In our memo, we listed all the activities we have prepared for them:
Gymnastics, Talent Hunts, Dancing Skills, Piano Class, worship songs and Voice Training.
We did not come to just visit and go. We came to build them. To discover the singer in them. To discover the dancer in them. To discover the star in them.
*What I Discovered In This Home*
In this orphanage home, I discovered that there were a lot of teenagers and babies.
The noise was much. Crying was all over the environment.
A lot of these children, between the ages of 1, 2, 3, all received us with outstretched hands, begging to be lifted up and carried. All with runny noses. Some with heavy pampers that needed to be changed.
At first, I was weak and overwhelmed. My heart was heavy. I did not know where to start.
But I gathered courage. I carried them one after the other. I held them. I wiped their noses. I hugged them. Because sometimes, love is not in big grammar. Love is in carrying a child who just wants to be carried.
And then, something happened that I will never forget. One of the babies, while I was carrying her, wee on my clothes.
I did not shout. I did not drop her. I just laughed softly and held her tighter. Because that wee was not dirt to me. It was a sign that she trusted me enough to rest on me. She did not see me as a stranger. She saw me as Mummy.
*Then The Presentation Brought Calmness*
Before we left, we set up our projector to do a small presentation for them.
We arranged the room, and as the light from the projector came on, the whole room changed. It first looked like a cinema. The children gathered together, their eyes fixed on the light.
We showed them the video presentation from the projector of all the activities we have prepared for them, from other homes.
And something beautiful happened. The video presentation finally made way for calmness, as they all watched what we had in store for them.
The crying reduced. The noise calmed down. Their eyes were fixed on the screen. They were watching other children singing, dancing, playing piano, doing gymnastics. And I know in that moment, they were seeing themselves in those children.
*A Call That Blessed Us*
Later, the Mummy in charge called in. She welcomed us through a phone call. She spoke with so much warmth, and she pleaded to see us on the expected Saturday weekend.
That call blessed my heart. It confirmed that we are welcomed. It confirmed that the door is open.
That day in Kado, we did not sing yet. We did not dance yet. But we planted a seed. And a seed, when it is planted with love, will surely grow.
As we were about to leave, one small boy held my hand and refused to let go. He looked up at me and said nothing, but his eyes were asking one question: "Will you really come back?"
My people, I promised him in my heart that I will come back. And I will keep that promise.
This is only the beginning for Destined Children. The Saturday is coming. The children are waiting. And we are coming with music, with love, and with hope.
Stay with me, my people. Part 7 will be the day we meet the children face to face.
I have not mentioned their names in this diary, to protect them. But their faces are in my heart.
Have you ever held a child who did not want you to drop them? Tell me in the comment, I want to hear your own story.
If this story touched you, please share it. Somebody needs to read it today.
*To be continued...*
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