Depraved Indifference

Enseko = Laughter = Sseko Designs

I cringe at the thought of spending more than $10 or $15 on a pair of shoes.  I am not a shoe person - never one of those girls that had a shoe fetish, with a closet overflowing of them.  I have one pair of boots that I've had since I was a freshman or sophomore in high school. So, you know, per my usual MO, a decade later, I'm still valiantly holding on to them.  They're in great shape - waterproof and all.  It's a running joke in my family, though, my choice of footwear.  My brothers actually bought me a pair of tennis shoes one year for Christmas because up until that point I refused to buy some myself.  I didn't see anything wrong with the current pair I had, but clearly the family thought otherwise.  My mother eventually had to force me to part ways even with those shoes.  It's not that I'm partial to the shoes, it's just that if there's nothing wrong with them, I'm not going to spend a fortune on a pair just to get an upgrade or a better looking version.

But earlier this week, I spent what I would deem a small fortune on a pair shoes.  And I didn't think twice about it.

A few weeks ago, my friend Emily sent me the link to a company that had a job opening she thought I might be interested in.  It was with Sseko Designs in Kampala, Uganda, for the Director of Operations.  (The thought process behind that possibility is an entirely separate post all together).  So I checked out the site, browsed around the products, checked out the story, and was hooked. 

Because you want to know the really beautiful thing about this company?  It's not about sandals - it's about the women behind the sandals.  It's about opportunity and change for a people and a country that have been hurting for so long. 

Sseko \say-ko\ Designs was created to help these bright young women continue their education. The Ugandan school system is designed with a nine month gap between secondary school and university. These nine months are intended to allow time for students to earn money for tuition before continuing on to university. However, in an impoverished and male dominated society, many of these young women struggle to find fair work during this time.


Sseko Designs hires recent secondary school graduates for this nine month period to live and work together, while earning money that will go directly towards their university education. These women will not make sandals forever. They will go on to be doctors, lawyers, politicians, writers and teachers that will bring change and unification to a country divided and ravished by a 22 year-long war.

Sseko Designs is a not-just-for-profit enterprise that recognizes the power of business and responsible consumerism to support sustainable economic development, which in turn affects a country's educational, justice, and health care systems. The goal of Sseko Designs is two-fold: provide university tuition for these promising young women through a sustainable monthly income, while also contributing to the overall economic development of Uganda.

Although consumerism makes many empty promises, responsible and proactive consumerism has the ability to change lives. Like the lives of Mercy, Mary and Rebbecca.

Every sandal has a story. This story has only just begun, but with your help, it will be a story of hope, success and change.

So that's why.  That's why I don't think twice about paying $50 for a pair of sandals.  To me, the sandals are just icing on the cake.  They're cute.  They're trendy.  They're durable and well-made.  But it's the opportunity to help these women that gets me.  I'll gladly go on buying more sandals and more straps, for myself and for others. (I see birthday and Christmas gifts on the horizon!)  They may live half-a-world away but they're dreamers just like me.  I love funding dreams.

Boys will be Boys...

...regardless of skin color or country of birth.  Dirt is still the universal food of little boys and animal noises are the universal language. 

I checked my e-mails this morning and I had an e-mail from the village in Kenya.  The Child Care Director passed along a recent happening, which she knew I would appreciate:


While the Rafiki employees met with the Village Director on Thursday afternoon, two MiniMissionaries (short-term staff) and two other ROS (Rafiki Overseas Staff, long-term) and I watched the 97 children as they played. It made me wish that I had some afternoon play time with the kids every day. The kids had fun blowing and chasing bubbles, rolling tires, running, kicking footballs (soccer balls) and talking with us. One conversation when something like this:


An unidentified voice- “Mrs. Patty Yoss, Randall is eating dirt.”

Me - “Randall, come here.”

Randall - “Yes, please.”

Me - “Randall, please don’t eat dirt. It’s not good for little boys to eat dirt.”

Johnson- “Mrs. Patty Yoss, is it good for little girls to eat dirt?”

Me - “No, Johnson. It’s not good for any children to eat dirt.”

Hannah- “Only thieves should eat dirt!”

Much laughter by all!
 
Meanwhile, a few nights ago we went out to dinner for mom's birthday.  My nephew Rocco was there and I had the privilege of sitting next to him during the meal.  He has recently become prone to roaring at just about anything as he believes he is a tiger.  At the end of the meal, he turned to me and said in his little lispy voice, "You a lion and I'm a tiger, now roar!"  So I roared somewhat quietly, however he missed the memo about roaring at an equal decibel which prompted half the restaurant turn around and look our way. 
 
He then proceeded to go around the table, naming each person a particular animal name.  I was a lion, he was a tiger, my dad was a puma (clearly this kid has been to the zoo a number of times as I don't know too many three year olds who know what a puma is), my mother was a cheetah.  And then we got to the grandmothers and I thought, "Rocco, my friend, you better tread lightly when it comes to naming the matriarchs of the family." 
 
You could tell he was giving it a great deal of thought what he would name my grandmothers.  I just thought, "Dear Lord, please don't let the words rhino, hippo, or elephant come out of his mouth."  He settled on a giraffe for my one grandmother, which she was quite pleased with because she jokingly said, "I'll take that, considering I'm neither tall nor skinny!"  He then came to my other grandmother and I was anxiously waiting for what his animal choice would be and I could see he was on the verge of one of the dreaded three.  So I leaned over and whispered, "Rocco, maybe she can be a panther."  He looked at me and then he looked at her and said, "You can be a panther!"  
 
Bullet dodged.
 
I'm sure the time will come when I have to explain to Rocco, too, that dirt is not to be eaten, whether in Africa or America. 

With Our Own Eyes

To say that I think of Africa, namely Kenya, a lot would probably be an understatement.  Although it seems here lately that none of us can escape it really, considering the situations happening in Libya, Egypt, and the Ivory Coast.  And those are just the ones that are making headlines.  Don't even get me started on Zimbabwe.  I recently watched a documentary called "Mugabe and the White African."   It's a very compelling documentary, one that made me vacillate between wishing God would somehow wipe Robert Mugabe off the surface of the earth to wanting to cry my eyes out over the injustices in this world.  I was both disturbed and inspired - disturbed by Mugabe and his regime and inspired by the men featured in the story, who were choosing to take a stand, even at risk to their own lives. 

But that's beside the point.

I realized something tonight as I was reading over some Bible verses.  I was working on my lesson material for this week's small group and one of the verses we were to focus on was James 1:27, which says, "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress..."   Our study actually focused on the previous verses, but I was left pondering this one.  I dug around through some commentaries and I was struck by the notes from Vincent's Word Pictures:

"James strikes a downright blow here at ministry by proxy, or by mere gifts of money.  Pure and undefiled religion demands personal contact with the world's sorrow - to visit the afflicted and to visit them in their affliction."

I, of course, read this and thought of Africa (you may think of your own example).  I thought of Johnson and Benson and Elijah and Denise and all of  the other little faces that I so dearly miss on a daily occasion it seems.  And while I spend a lot of time looking back, I look ahead to what the implications of this verse and this quote from VWP really mean.

It's not enough to simply give money or to wish for a better life for those who are afflicted.

I have to see it with my own eyes.

You have to see it with your own eyes.

If we are to care for the fatherless and widows of this world, those who are without a leader, a guide, a husband, a shepherd - if we are to care for them, then we have to go and see them. 

I loved the definition of "to visit" in Thayer's Greek Definitions - "to look upon or after, to inspect, examine with the eyes."

You see, it's not enough to merely watch the world's hurts on the news or to read about it in a book.  We have to see it with our own eyes.  And I think that's the driving force in my desire to go back to Africa.  I want to see it again - with my own eyes, with the understanding that I am responsible.  I think there will always be this part of me that will never be satisfied until I set foot on that continent again - and to come face to face yet again with the world's deepest needs.  Even as I read over that above quote from VWP, I thought of Zimbabwe and the situation there.  If we are to be the Christians that we say we are, then maybe that even means going to Zimbabwe (or wherever - that's just my example)to see the afflicted people there in their affliction.   Maybe it means going to Egypt.  Maybe it means going to Libya.

Or maybe it means going up the street to the hospital to visit those who don't have families.  Maybe it means going to a homeless shelter and meeting the afflicted there.  Whatever it may mean, we have to examine it with our own eyes if we have any hope of making a dent.  

I loved the story David Platt gave in his book Radical. He talked about a trip he took to Sudan, one where he originally questioned whether it was worth going himself, maybe he should just send money rather than spending everything on a plane ticket and such just to get to the people.  But then he went and when he got there he met a man who thanked him for coming - thanked him for being present in the flesh, for not just sending money, but for physically giving himself to the people.  It meant more to that man that David be there, laboring alongside him and with him, than it meant to simply receive whatever money he might have sent.

Our physical presence matters to the people we encounter and help.  We have to be willing to give of ourselves and not just our finances or well wishes.  It matters to them that we see them.