Now we are fully, well getting there, recovered from our whirlwind tour of Kenya we will tell you a little bit about what we actually did with our time there and why we have such fond memories of the country and the people!
Firstly we arrived to a kings (well princess’s) welcome. It was amazing. After spending some 15 hours on the worst road in the Africa, or make that the world, we arrived in sunny Kenya.

The bus screeched to an emergency stop and all of a sudden armed police men entered shouting “Mzoongo, Mzoongo”. Of course I immediately elbowed Lorna, who was obliviously picking dead cockroaches off herself, and told her that the police had pulled us over because white people were on the bus. Doh! In actual fact the police had stopped us because Nancy and her crew had asked them too. Next thing we knew beautiful Nancy was calling to us to get our bags and get off the bus.
So we did. The first thing we noticed were their beaming smiles and the number of people who were waiting for us. It really was a warm and totally unexpected welcome. Although still slightly sleepy eyed and whip-lashed from the bus we learned our hosts names relatively quickly:
“Hi nice to meet you,” the mzoongos chorused.
“Hi I’m Julius”
“I’m John.”
“I’m Jamilick”
“I’m Geoffry,” they replied, arms outstretched to hug us.
‘N’ just when we thought we were all J’d out another voice piped up, “I’m Betty, but you can call me Joyce!” At this point Main had a moment. Giggle tastic!

Ok so we’d met the team, well some of them, and we were taken to Nancy’s stunning home where we met her husband…James!!!
Oh how we chuckled.

The first thing we noticed was the volume of chairs in the sitting room. The room was full of beautifully patterned couches and it was very welcoming. Aswell as the couches I noticed some other chairs stacked in the corner. Later we discovered that all of the homes we visited had several chairs in them, crammed around the walls in their living areas. We questioned Nancy about this and she told us that they were for visitors and that they often held church meetings and groups in their homes. We can certainly testify that these people expect visitors. The prepare themselves to have them and they make entertaining them and being hospitable to them part of their lives. Yes I know we all love to do that but you’ll see that there’s a slgiht differnce to the way we entertain and the way they do it: Kenya style!

While I was talking to Nancy I realised why we had received such a warm, “princess’s” welcome. I explained to her that we had never experienced anything like this and that we were actually very humbled and slightly embarrassed to be so joyfully received. “It was like you were receiving royalty,” I explained.
As soon as I said it I realised why they had acted this way. “You are God’s daughters,” she remined me. (Of course we are daughters of the King.) “And so when we welcome you we are welcoming him into our homes and we would only give him the best!”
Of course. It all made sense. For those of you who know us well you will know that we, well I at least, are in no way a princesses (far from it) and we are still not quite sure that we deserved the hospitality we received. However, we are sure that God did and they were right: each time we entered one of their homes we prayed together, we shared together and in everything God was at the centre of it all. So thank you to all our friends in Kenya. We know you will be bountifully blessed because you blessed us so much.

Then, after eating some goat (yes we did a lot of that), we visited the church on Sunday morning. The minister (Robert) wasn’t preaching that morning but Lorna and I soon made up for that. Nancy asked us to say a few words, little did she know we like to talk….and talk…and talk. Anyway everyone seemed to enjoy it and even understand our funny accents. We later learned that the reason for Robert’s absence was that he is the minster for the parish. Yes, most ministers are you may be wondering what’s my point. Well the point is that the parish is so full and so vast that there are actually six congregations and and they are spread over many miles. Wow can you imagine the church in Scotland having so many members and lovers of God that there aren’t enough ministers to accommodate them. I can!

That Sunday afternoon we met the youth group, whom we would be sharing and teaching for the rest of the week. We absolutely adore this group of young people. We say young but in actual fact some of them were older than us (ages between 16-30). We spent the rest of the day singing, dancing and doing drama with them. That week we got to know them a lot better. Nancy kept saying you must spend time with the youth and I see why. They are so passionate about God and he is really real to them. They rely on him for everything. I could see why us spending time with them was so important for the church, the same reason that everywhere we have gone people have asked us to focus on the children and young people: they are the future of the church. They are the next generation and as Marylin Skinner recently pointed out they are the next leaders of the country.

Having taught in Scotland (although only for a baby amount of time in comparison to some) I appreciate the importance and emphasise we place on education and exam results. I know that you already understand how important it is to be educated, because you are. But what I have seen in each place I visited in Africa, including Kenya, is that yes it is important to educate children but I saw how important educating them about God is too. How much more confident these children are when they know that they have someone that loves them unconditionally and that God has a plan for their lives. We may think at home that our children don’t need this hope, they have other things to distract them, computers, alcohol, fashion. Yeah these things may be satisfying…for a little while but ultimately they want something long term. Something that relates to them, someone who understands them (the way their parents and peers don’t') eh… try the gospel!!! So that’s a little (only a tiny part) of what we learned from the youth there, as well as how not to paint! If we’re ever invited back I guarantee we will not be asked to paint the church again although we had lots of fun doing it!

The youth group then took on the monumental task of taking out my braids and before we knew it, it was time to leave Kenya. We cannot express how much we loved every second of our time there, how much we learned and how much fun we had. We laughed…and laughed…and laughed! We know that our partnership and friendship with them is just at the beginning and it will be lifelong. We pray that you too will get involved in the work of their parish. One of the many things they do in their community is pay for local children to go to school. We had the privilege of meeting some of the children (young people) whose education is paid for by the congregation and they are not necessarily children who attend the church or are even associated with it. It terrifies me to think that there are so many other children, even some of the youth we met, that can not go to school simply because their parents can’t afford the fees. I know that it seems we are always asking for you to support our brothers and sisters abroad, well we are visiting them for the next year so perhaps we should get used to it, but we would not ask if we did not see that it was doing some good. Infact a huge amount of good. Giving someone food for the day is keeping them alive, giving them an education is giving them a life and a future. Please get involved. Contact World Without Walls to get in tocvh with Nancy and the J team tehy are waiting and would love to hear from you!
God Bless and much love, the Soul Touchers

Ok guys well we have had the grand finale of the Ugandan mission and we’re now well and truly immersed in the Kenyan one. After a very bumpy ride (that’s an understatement) on a bus for 16 hours we arrived in Kenya. We will spare you the gorey details of the journey but lets just say it was (we’re trying to find an appropriate adjective without sounding offensive) tragic…mental…probably not even legal and the bus conductor, well he’s another story! He definitely needs saved but we’re leaving that job to the next crazy mazungo missionary that braves his company for the duration of the trip from Uganda to Kenya.
So scanning back through the pages of our blog it looks like we have some catching up to do. You guys may have been wondering where we have been. So here’s what we’ve been up to:
First there was the building of a boarding house at Butaguya primary school, in Jinja. There we made bricks for the new boarding house as well as teaching English, maths, law and order and agriculture (yeah can you believe it, it would appear they knew even less than us, which we thought was impossible) to the children. Using music, dance and drama we taught the children, one popular song that I (Lorna) taught them was ‘Singing in the Rain’ ; if you don’t know this song, let me tell you how it is done. It is a fun action song that makes you end up dancing about with your thumbs out, butt out and tongue out…! Don’t worry guys we’ll teach you it when we get back, you’ve plenty time to prepare yourselves. (For the record I’m –Erica- having nothing to do with this insane Main madness). Jinja was wrapped up with sad farewells to Eliza, Emily, Steph and Derek (Deeko, Spikey, Blondey, Eliza’s other half…literally joined together, cute boy, action man, Cargill, Car Gill, Gill fixy car man).
Gulu

Then, as if we weren’t cream crackered (nackered) enough, we went to DP. Nothing and no-one could have prepared us for what lay ahead: the giggggantic c c c c c mission at Dwelling Places in Kampala. For six weeks we, alongside Buchan, Heather and some more crazy Weegies (Gilliian, Donna and Craig Gillian) taught the children the production of Peace Child. At the end of this time they performed the musical at Pope Paul Theatre (pronounced Popey Paule if you’re even heading there on a Boda Boda and never let them charge you more than 2000 Ugandan Shillings!!!) For those of you who have not been keeping up to date with the blog (shame on you) Peace Child is a play about two tribes (Wannapeepee and Sopongi) who are separated by a raging river and years of hostility. One day a TV crew for the western world arrive on the banks of the river to make a documentary (Ha, Mazugos trying to make a difference in Africa…sound familiar?). They come up with the brainwave of building a bridge to unite the two tribes and so the two sides immediately prepare for war. Until one night the chief of the Wannapeepee tribe has a prophetic dream. An ancient warrior appeared to him, commanding that his firstborn child must be given to the Sopongi’s as a peace offering. The Chief follows the command and the two tribes unite; at long last peace reigns among them.

So that’s what was written in the script but what the children of DP did with the material was just amazing. Yes there were hard times. Children are so playful and discipline was sometimes hard to get. We would turn our backs for one second and half of the children had jumped up into the tree to pick mangos, whilst the others were chasing chickens. God has given Erica (I didn’t write this about myself Lorna did honest) a very special gift of training children to be disciplined and near the end of the rehearsals the children were actually all standing in their circles ready for voice and drama training; now that’s a miracle!

The staff at Dwelling Places commented that the children had learned so much and it was a real blessing to us all that the children themselves actually thanked us for being so crabbit and never giving up on them. This play was so successful and the natural talent that God has given these children to sing and dance was something spectacular; these kids are going to be “international stars!” Back stage after a day of performing, hidden from the audience by heavy stage curtains the children’s (and staff’s) excitement could not be muted. Their cheers, claps and appreciation of one another and admiration for what they had achieved was evident in their beaming smiles. “Well dones” were passed around the stage and it was then that Rita Nkemba (Director of DP and generally an amazing, inspirational women) challenged the children. “Do you want to be international stars?” She probed. The question was met with some disbelief. Some of the little ones, still reeling from the excitement of the show, giggled and shouted “yes”. But the prospect of becoming a star, achieving their dreams and taking this show to the nations actually silenced most of them, or at least those who understood the weight of her words. You see for many of them this was the first time they were seen as stars. It was the first time their voices had been heard and what a way to begin. The seed has now been planted in their young minds and they know that nothing is impossible because they rely, totally and utterly, unconditionally, superdooperly on God. The God that took them from the gutters (literally) and placed them under those lights on the stage.

Back to that stage and the fiasco that was trying to arrange lights! Stage manager (Lorna the Great and her squad) were met with many challenges. As well as getting the costumes made, stage props and backdrops took alot of prayers, patience… more patience and a bit more patience. Try organising costumes for 50 African children who all have at least five names each! As always God provided everything that we needed and feedback on the show has been amazing! We will miss these children so, so , so , so much but we know it’s only a matter of time before we, and you, will be seeing them in Scotland…watch this space!
So ‘Peace Child’ is finished. After such a huge project there’s sometimes a lul, some peace and quiet, time to reflect…chillout even? We even jested that we’d miss the 6am alarm clock call, the repetition of dances and endless singing under the sweltering sun. Ha that’s a laugh. Next morning we were up and raring to go. This time we were headed on a journey we hadn’t anticipated…sorry folks we left it out of our itinerary. Gulu:

Back in the Venga bus we packed our wee bags (seriously pair of pants x1, sock x 0 and a couple of smelly t shirts and that was between the four of us!) and rattled our way to the middle of nowhere. (Francis you still have some explaining to do young man!) What was supposed to be a four hour journey took approximately eight hours. Someone fooled us into thinking there may actually be roads to travel on…ney luck chucs it was pothole heaven.
But we made it! Gulu and even the journey turned out to be worth every second. It was a mini project that God called us to do. Gulu is a district in Northern Uganda. For the past 21 years it has been terrorized and destroyed by rebels known as the Lords Resistance Army. During this time over 50,000 children have been abducted from their homes, their schools and their communities. The so called `’army” have used extreme violence with the aim of overthrowing the government and gaining power throughout the whole of Uganda. The rebels justify their demonic behavior insisting that they want Uganda to be run by ” God “. We are struggling to understand what kind of God would ever commit such atrocities and vulgarity. Their actions are intended to make the government listen to them. Entering villages in the night the terrorists snatch innocent children, burning homes and killing many, or most of the villagers in the process. They demonstrate their power by cutting off people’s limbs, noses, ears and lips, leaving them maimed and faceless. They then march the kidnapped children into “the bush”. There they set about training them to kill. Equipping them with skills necessary to use guns and matchetes purposefully to destroy others, even their own families. Injected with heroine and drugged with cocaine the children are brainwashed into believing that if they flee from the bush or defy the rebels they will suffer in hell or worse still the rebels will kill them. As a sign of alligience to the “army” they are made to kill siblings, their mothers, fathers and other family members. One story we were told was almost unbelievable. Three children were taken from one family and on their journey to the bush camp (sometimes they are marched for weeks and months away from their homes, drugged so they can not remember the route nor find a way to escape) one child refused to continue any further because she was physically exhausted and unable to walk. Her siblings were then ordered to eat their sister; to bite her body until she bled to death.

Pastor Michael, the gentlemen from Gulu who hosted us, spoke of the massacre that took place in his village. He told us how in one day he and his family buried the other 400 villagers who had been slaughtered by the rebels. The job took them from 9 in the morning until 4 o’clock in the afternoon. Not a days work we can try to comprehend.
We had the opportunity and privilege to speak to some of the people living in these camps, the survivors of these atrocities; some of the 1.6 million people who have fled their own homes in search of safety. We saw victims without limbs but what was worst of all was seeing people without hope. These survivors live in “camps”. Yes, they live there and they have done, some for over 21 years, the duration of the war. We struggle to live in makeshift accommodation for a few nights before we become uncomfortable, homesick and irritated. But these people have no alternative. Although they were set up for the people of Gulu to protect them we found that even the camps themselves are dangerous and so the children remain vulnerable.

To create a picture of what we saw imagine thousands of little mud huts, no bigger than an average family’s kitchen table, regimented across acres of confined land. For three decades they have been trapped there which means that in some cases third generation children have been born there; they know nothing outside camp life. They are not living they are simply existing and trying to protect themselves against the next attack. We spoke to one elderly gentlemen who voiced the frustration he now feels in trying to persuade the youths in the camps to return to their original land, the land their ancestors owned. “You see they do not know how to live as a family. They know nothing of how to conduct themselves within a home. All they know is public life. A camp where everything is exposed”.
Gulu is generally peaceful now but the devastation the war has left is vast. The government encourages these people, who have been displaced for so long, to return to their “land”. Some don’t even know where it is let alone how to live on it. And what is there from them when they return? Nothing.

Ok so the picture we have painted is bleak. It sounds hopeless. But we have been there. We have cuddled the naked children, their bodies clothed only in flies and yet we are more hopeful than ever. Amongst the cries the people spoke of the miracles God has performed. As we handed out token gifts of washing soaps and basins to nursing mums we recognized something more. It wasn’t what they were receiving that was important to these people it was simply that we were there: the fact that they are not forgotten.
But we have left so what remains? KPC Gulu for starters. A few months ago we attended a Hillsongs conference in London. To be honest it was a bit of a stress (for some more than others- smack bang in the middle of folio deadlines- stress is not even the word!) but we went nevertheless. One of the main speakers was Marilynn Skinner (a pastor, from America, serving in Kampala with her husband Gary). She showed a film about child soldiers and talked about Gulu. For the remained of our time in Scotland we received emails asking us to pray for Gulu because “God has plans for that place”. Ok right, we put it to the back of our mind. Occasionally, when we remembered, we’d pray for the children we’d seen on the big screen that day although we tried to erase the painful images she’d exposed us to.

Little did we know that a few months later we would be face to face with those images and we would see the God that she spoke about. The God that reminds us that even if our own mothers abandon us, God never will: ” Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget I will not forget you.” Isaiah 49:15.

And so we have seen that Gulu is not forgotten nor are the people there. God took two random, dizzy, Scottish girls all the way there for goodness sake. He is making sure that the world takes notice. That you notice. That’s why he chose two with the biggest mouths. (Excuse us while we argue who has the biggest!)

More than this he has made promises to these people, and let us tell you they’re holding onto them tight because they need them to get through each day: “ The poor and needy search for water but there is none; their tongues are parched with thirst. But I the Lord will answer them; I the God of Israel will not forsake them.” Isaiah 41: 17

So Marilynn Skinner can testify that her prayers, and the prayers she asked us to pray, have been answered and are being answered on a daily basis. The church KPC have planted there has only been in existence a matter of weeks and already it is attended by over 600 adults and over 300 children. So many infact that they are building a larger facility to cope with the children: the children flocking to Sunday school; children whose siblings have been stripped of that opportunity because instead of the church grabbing them, the soldiers did.
We spoke to Alan, one of the pastors at KPC Gulu and he said something very significant: that as a church we must reach the children because they are the next generation. They are easily led. Wait doesn’t that sound familiar? Haven’t we read that somewhere before? Try in the big book you read on a Sunday maybe? It was the man on the cross who said it: blessed are the little children!

But another leader recognized the vulnerability of children: Joseph Kony, the leader of the Lords Resistance Army; the man who kidnaps them and leads them into the bush. He saw that children are easily led and what’s more they are powerful. So are we willing to introduce the children of Gulu to Jesus or will we leave them in the hands of Joseph Kony?
So often on this blog we find ourselves at a crossroads. What can we do? Well this time we’re not giving you the answers. We’re asking for some. We would love to continue to be involved with the work in helping the people of Gulu in whatever way we can. But lets just start by praying because it looks to us like it will take more than just our human efforts to sort this one out! God is the solution.

Thank you all for your support Erica and Lorna xxx