It's Not Just Tires that are On Fire in the Slums!

Packed clay underfoot, rocks creating raised obstacles, rivulets of runoff rainwater (or wastewater?) carving out crevasses in the pathway, patchwork corrugated tin and scrapwood homes packed tightly together and standing so low that I have to stoop my 5’2” frame to enter, the reek of the nearby dumpsite permeating the air. Korogocho Slum, Nairobi, Kenya.

This is a story about the slum. It is not a story of poverty. Not a story of loss or deprivation. Not a story to elicit crocodile-teared sympathy that results in manipulated responses.

It is a story of hope. Of light in the darkness. Of transformation.

Dan and I were privileged to be invited to walk these narrow pathways during our most recent trip to Kenya in December of 2023. Our dear friend, Pastor Steve Mbugua, honored us by sharing his childhood home with us. We have loved and ministered with Steve and his wife, Mary, since 2018, but this was the first time we had travelled into this part of the slums.

Built directly adjacent to the dumpsite that provides sustenance for the residents, Korogocho is a place full of all of those things that I said this story is not: poverty, crime, deprivation and depravity. Yet in the middle of all of this darkness, the light of Jesus is shining brightly.

Pastor Steve grew up here. As we followed him through the streets and alleyways, he matter-of-factly pointed out the places where he scavenged in the dumpsite for food, the corner where he was stabbed, the exact location where he was shot and left, the home where he hid from the police. We visited the low, dirt-floored homes with no light and scant furnishings, praying with the residents who spoke of their illnesses and needs.

Winding through what seemed endless rows of dark and dire homes, we came to one that was different. It, too, was built of corrugated tin sheeting. It, too, had a low door. As we entered, however, the floor was well-packed and the walls were covered with cheerful fabric. The small room held couches and an inviting light. We were introduced to the beaming woman who had welcomed us in with no hesitation. This, said Pastor Steve, was his one-time supplier of drink, drugs, and a hiding place from the authorities.

As we sat and listened, we learned the testimony of this precious lady. Pastor Steve had met Jesus in a most dramatic way. Fully convinced that God was real, Jesus was His Son, and that there was a way out of the life he had previously lived, his first person to share the Good News with was this woman who had been a guardian over him, protecting him as well as she might in their shared life of hopelessness in the slum. She received Jesus as her own, and in turn, led her daughters to knowledge of the One who could reach even into this place to transform darkness to light, hopelessness to hope, and could give them a future.

The joy of her salvation beamed from her face as we chatted. Our visit was made even sweeter by the opportunity to meet not only her daughters, but their daughters. In this family, the generational curse of the slum was broken by the power and authority of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Now, they walk as a testimony in the middle of the darkness.

Among homes falling down from disrepair, theirs stands neat and clean. In a place where darkness reigns, their home is full of light. Surrounded by mud and discomfort, a soft place is found to lay their heads.

They don’t keep it to themselves. This family of women of God, daughters of the King, once transformed, now pray for their neighbors. Where once they offered a harbor for criminal activities, they now offer a place where the criminals can lay down that life and receive renewed purpose. Where violence was once common, now peace is the standard. They cook and provide food for hungry neighbors. Singing and joy pour out of their door. Smiles of welcome and peace light their faces. Where they have opportunity to do good to others, they take it.

The stark difference between their home and every other home we entered that day cannot be overstated. But what difference will it really make, you ask? It’s a pretty story of one family; in all of that mass of poverty and despair, what difference will it make? My answer to you is that when we came away from that place, that 1.5 square mile press of 200,000 people, it was their home that burned in our memory.

Kindled in that great darkness is a light that stands out; do not think that it goes unnoticed by those who pass by it daily. Do not think that kindness is a spark that will not spread. That joy is an ember that will smoulder and go out. Make no mistake. The shine of Jesus in their eyes and the warmth of the Spirit flowing in their actions will draw others. The fire of God, once lit and resting in a place cannot help but catch and spread. The darkness will fight it, of course, but the dark can never withstand the light for long. It is overcome or it flees.
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“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” -Matthew 5:14-16