Floods and Fire
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” (Isaiah 43:2, NIV)
A few weeks ago, I had a rather unexpected experience. I was on a joint video call with my family in Germany and my brother in England (our family is now quite well scattered across the globe!). We were about to play an online game we’d discovered – a variant of GeoGuessr – when it suddenly began to rain.
For context: in Kenya, there are long stretches where not a single drop falls, and other months where it rains like clockwork every day. We’re currently in the height of the dry season, so this downpour was very unexpected. It was classic tropical rain – heavy, unpredictable, and blowing sideways. In our flats, the rain echoes so loudly that it often feels as though it’s raining inside the house. After a few minutes, the power went out. But this isn’t unusual here and has been happening weekly lately, so I wasn’t particularly bothered. I simply sat on the sofa and waited, and sure enough, the power returned a few minutes later.
But the rain was still pouring, and when I stood up, I noticed the floor was wet. While I’d been calmly waiting for the electricity to come back, our living room had essentially flooded! You might wonder how that’s possible when we live on the fifth floor. The answer: our front door has a gap at the bottom, and the drain outside had become blocked. With nowhere else to go, the water simply flowed straight into our home. I spent the next hour and a half mopping, eventually filling three buckets. Living on the fifth floor, I never imagined I’d have to deal with flooding! The funniest part was that once the power returned, I stayed on the call, and my family continued playing the game while I mopped.
I’ve had plenty of dramatic rain‑related experiences before – torrential downpours flooding the roads and leaving us stranded – but this one is definitely my new favourite story.
I want to shift gears now to something far more sobering. The dumpsite near where we live in Nakuru is an incredibly difficult place. When I refer to “the dumpsite,” I’m usually speaking specifically about the community in London Ward – part of the wider Nakuru slums and the area where my husband grew up. The dumpsite itself is vast, with many different sections, but London Ward is the part we know most personally.
The area is marked by extreme poverty and desperation. Many families live in tiny, single‑room structures made from corrugated iron sheets, clustered around – or in some cases directly within – the rubbish dump. As you can imagine, earning a stable living is incredibly challenging, and people struggle to provide for their families. Because of this, they turn to many different forms of income – some legal, some less so – including collecting scrap metal, salvaging usable materials, brewing illicit alcohol, or becoming involved in small‑scale drug trade.
With so many people living together in overcrowded, often horrifyingly poor conditions, the dumpsite is almost constantly on a knife’s edge. Unemployment is perhaps the greatest enemy. Given the dire circumstances, it’s sadly unsurprising that many are driven to illegal practices, and crime rates remain high. Outbreaks of violence are not uncommon in such a tense and desperate atmosphere.
A few weeks ago, the situation escalated dramatically. Police were ordered to burn down the houses of those selling illegal alcohol near the dumpsite, and conducted a raid in the dead of night. Tragically, as so often happens, innocent people were caught up in the chaos, and more than five families lost their homes. They now have nowhere to stay, no food, and no personal documents. Even without such a disaster, life on the dumpsite is incredibly vulnerable; losing their homes only deepens their hardship. Several young men were also arrested in their houses and beaten. One young man we know, still in high school, appeared in court just a few days ago. The details of the complete consequences of the raid are still being confirmed.
My husband and I have been seeking wisdom on how to help in this very challenging situation – offering emergency support, but also thinking about how to prevent something like this from happening again. At the root of the issue is the idleness and lack of purpose many young people face. They have no clear goals, no education, and no discipleship. This makes them incredibly vulnerable and easily drawn into criminal activity. These young men weren’t selling illegal alcohol because they wanted to, but because it was a way to survive.
We believe it is absolutely essential to bridge the gap between the residents of the dumpsite and government officials. This is something my husband and I are focusing on. Alvin has proposed a peace meeting involving both the community and the county commandant. Violence is never the answer; we instead want to foster peace and work toward true, long‑term solutions.
So please keep this situation – and the entire dumpsite community – in your prayers.
“If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” (2 Chronicles 7:14, NIV)
