Letting the Tears Fall

So, we prepared for mission Capture Tenele. I had a basketball game later that morning, so we had to get her before the game. I called Tenele and told her we were coming to get her. She said, “okay” and I asked her to meet us at the kitchen and she said, “okay” but of course didn’t do it. So, the five of us ladies split up at Mangwaneni to find her. Alex and I asked a few of the kids where Tenele stayed (I didn’t remember how to get there…it’s like a maze going through all the huts that look the same).

A few of the kids knew the general area and one girl brought us to Tiny. (Tiny was the one who first showed Titi and I to Tenele when I first got to Swazi.) After exchanging greetings and hugs with her, she took us to Tenele. Surprised but seemingly happy to see that I made it through the maze to her house, Tenele greeted me. Her and Nomphilo were washing dishes and clothes. She was standing outside her house, and I took a step towards it and asked if I could see inside.

“No!” she said quickly putting her hands against my arms. And she laughed and pretended like there was nothing to hide. But I respected her request and didn’t go inside. The hut was small and square, but the door was partway open so I could see one end, which was very tidy and had their shoes all lined up and the dishes washed and stacked. As I told them, “asembeni!” (let’s go) they went inside to change and I heard a man’s voice as they talked quietly. They finally came out and we successfully completed Capture Tenele. (It wasn’t as hard as I had anticipated.)

Eilidh took the girls to the nurse to get Tenele’s bandage changed. Again, not a single tear. While they were with the nurse, I went to my basketball warm-ups. We were supposed to play the National South African team, so we needed to get some good practice in. Eilidh brought the girls over later to watch. But by this time, I was sweating profusely because of the intense heat and the South African team still hadn’t shown up yet. So I went to sit with the girls in the shade. Tenele tried to tell me she was going to leave, and I asked her to stay until after my game so that I could talk to her. She didn’t seem like she was going to comply.

Zanele, one of my Swazi friends who had told me she was willing to counsel Tenele if she wanted, came over to talk to us and asked Tenele what happened to her foot. They spoke in SiSwati, but I could figure out what they were generally saying by the look on Zanele’s face and her repetitive, “Unemanga,” telling Tenele she was lying. I asked Zanele about it a few minutes later when we were alone and Zanele said she didn’t believe Tenele’s story about “stepping on a knife.” When I told Zanele the whole story Zanele was disgusted that I am still trying to help her.

“Why are you wasting your time and money on her when there are other girls who are willing to change and take your help?”

I was a bit taken back by this disgust she had for Tenele, but I guess that’s what most people see Tenele as anyway…a waste of time. But not me. She’s not a waste of time and it kind of offended me that Zanele said that about her…after all, she is like my daughter. In fact, the other volunteers said, “she’s your child, of course you have to help her.” They understand, and it’s so wonderful to have support. But what Zanele had to say afterwards was much more helpful.

I told Zanele about Tenele’s background and that her step mom had forced her to have sex with other men for money, and Zanele’s venomous attitude towards Tenele suddenly changed. I told her about the boyfriend she is staying with and how he beats her and she said that most women (especially Swazis because women depend so fully on men here)in abusive relationships never leave. They are more scared of leaving rather than being beat. She also told me that someone needs to sit down with Tenele and tell her the truth about things and not take her lies, etc. After talking with Zanele, I knew I had to sit down with Tenele and have a one-on-one conversation, telling her the truth and that I know the truth and not to lie, etc.

So, while the South African team was still absent, I asked Tenele to come with me so we could talk. When she asked Nomphilo to come with, I gently said, “No, just you…” and Eilidh stayed with Nomphilo while a took an uneasy Tenele to some shaded steps to sit and talk.

I prayed earlier that morning in my journal about what to do and say because I had no longer have any idea how to help my child. In my journal, I prayed:

“I don’t want to spend my efforts in vain. Lead the way. Blow your trumpet of victory over Tenele’s life right now. Whisper to my head and my heart what I should do, what I should say. I am at a loss for words and direction.”

As we talked on those steps, God truly answered this prayer in a way I never expected.

At first I tried reasoning with Tenele about the stab wound, but she wouldn’t tell me the truth, then I tried addressing the fact that she lives with a boyfriend, but again she refused and refused no matter what I said. I told her that I KNOW the TRUTH because people from Mangwaneni told me and that no matter how much she lies, I know the truth. She said, “I keep trying to tell you but you just keep saying, ’unemanga’ (you’re lying).”

“Tenele, it’s because you ARE lying.”

She just didn’t get it.

I turned away in bitter frustration at her stubbornness. We sat quietly for a few moments looking away from each other. I sighed with helpless defeat and rubbed my forehead as tears started welling up in my eyes.
“Don’t cry,” came her quiet voice as she looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “Don’t cry.”
And from this point on, I have no idea what all came out of my mouth, but it definitely came from the whispers of the Lord. At one point she finally admitted she had a boyfriend and stayed with him, but beyond that, she wouldn’t tell me anything. But the words that came out went something like this:

“Tenele, you know how much I love you…”

“Yes, Mary-Kate, I know.”

“Tenele, I love you no matter what. I know you don’t want to tell me the truth, but I already know it, Tenele. I already know what you’ve been through, and I can’t imagine it. Are you scared to tell me the truth? Ashamed? Don’t be scared or ashamed to tell me. Tenele, it doesn’t change what I think of you or how I treat you. I love you…even when you’re drunk…” I paused to see if she would oppose this statement, as she usually would, but she didn’t. She hung her head and soaked in every word that came from my mouth.

“I love you even if you smoke. I love you even if you sleep with your boyfriend. Okay? I love you and that won’t change.” She nodded and her eyes started getting glossy, still she wouldn’t look up.

I continued, “Tenele, I know what you’ve been through and I hate it. I hate what your step-mom did to you, I hate that your boyfriend beats you…I hate that you have been through so much suffering. I know what you’ve been through, yet I don’t know how it feels. You hide your pain so well, Tenele. I cannot imagine how much pain you are covering up. I don’t understand what you go through. But Tenele, you don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve to get beat, you don’t deserve…” and as I talked on, she started really crying.

She covered her face with her hands, but the tears streamed through the creases between her fingers. I told her about a love that she deserves and I told her about a love that she is worthy of and I told her that I wished she believed it. I told her how I want to help her, but I can’t unless she lets me see the truth. And on I talked, I wish I remembered what all I said, but it doesn’t matter. I asked her if I should pray with her. She nodded.

So, with my hand on her bald head as she leaned into my embrace I prayed…and prayed…and the more I prayed for her the harder she cried. And we sat there for a few minutes when I had finished praying and she kept crying. The South African team had arrived during all of this but we were relocating courts, so I was supposed to have left earlier, but I didn’t. The coach came back for me, so I asked Tenele if she would come with to watch my game and spend the day with me; I told her it would mean a lot to me. She sat there still crying but said she would come.

As we left to go to the courts, she was very closed off. She was so sad, and I didn’t know what to do or say. She wouldn’t really respond to me. She wouldn’t respond to Eilidh or Nomphilo either. But no one else knew what we had talked about or why Tenele was crying. But apparently, even during my game Eilidh said that Tenele refused to come close to other people who were watching the game because she was still crying. She let Eilidh comfort her and Eilidh told her how much we all loved her, but she kept crying, avoiding looking at anyone.

After the game, I sat with her as she was in this same state (she had stopped crying) and was very closed off. It was like she had let me see a deep and painful, vulnerable part of her and then she realized that she let me in and then retreated, closing off worse than before. Eilidh left and we stayed to watch the guys’ game. I couldn’t get anything out of Tenele the whole time. It started scaring me a little bit, because I though, Oh no, she’s worse than before. I tried making her laugh, smile, talk to me...I asked her if she would talk to me but she shook her head no. She refused my offers to get her lunch. Finally, as I sat next to her, I bowed my head to pray, telling the Lord I had no idea what to do. I didn’t even really know what to pray for…so I prayed ten Hail Marys and an Our Father. When I looked up, it was like I could feel a change already. It was weird…but awesome feeling.

Sure enough, as we got up to go home, slowly Tenele’s attitude changed. I said to her, “You know Tenele, last night a few volunteers and I were going to bring some mattresses and come sleep at Mangwaneni just to make sure you were okay,” (which we actually had thought about doing for like one second before stating the obvious…WAAAAY TOO dangerous for any female to be going there especially at night.) But at this statement a huge smile spread across Tenele’s face. And I made some more small talk with her. When we got to the house, she accepted my offer to get her food, water, and some 7up. As I came out of the kitchen to bring them food and drink, Tenele had already picked up a book and was busy trying to read while Nomphilo strummed a few strings on the guitar. Tenele-Bell was back.

I gave Tenele an early Christmas present; it was a book called “Runaway Bunny.” It was one of my favorite books as a child and Tenele picked it up to read one day awhile back and as she read it outloud to me, I realized how incredibly perfect this book is for her! I wrote in the book about why I wanted to give it to her and the message of the book is a reflection of my love for her, but more importantly that it’s God’s love for her. That no matter how many times she tries to run away, God will NEVER stop loving her and chasing after her. She cherished it. I played some guitar and sang some worship songs as they read some books.

Then Tenele taught me a card game and Michel, another new volunteer, joined Nomphilo, Tenele, and I in an intense card game full of laughter and joy. Soon, the girls said they needed to go. I told Tenele that they both could stay here for the night if they wished.

“Tomorrow, Mary-Kate,” Tenele smiled.
“Tenele, you said that yesterday,” I rolled my eyes, knowing it was her way of saying a polite no.
“But I will tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I just smiled.

On the way home, Tenele hummed the song, “Open the Eyes of my Heart, Lord,” as I had played it on guitar earlier. I asked her to think about our conversation earlier and how if she wanted to leave Mangwaneni, I would do whatever I could to get her out safely. The problem is she doesn't know how to leave. That's her life, and she's scared to leave it. I didn't understand why she would deny an opportunity to stay at my house for a night to help her with her foot and give her food, etc., but when I think about it, I realize she's probably afraid to...maybe it would be worse with the "boyfriend" if she stayed for a night...I don't know. But what I do know is something BIG happened that day. Something really BIG. She let me see her pain, and moreover she let herself see her pain. She's being broken, which is what I have been praying for, because now she can be built back up with healing and strength, more beautiful than ever before.

She didn't let me see her cry when she was stabbed, but she opened up her hurting heart to me and finally let the tears fall. I pray God will soon change these tears into healing rain. It's a long process to help Tenele and to see her actually change, but I KNOW it's coming. Please pray with me for this day!


Playing cards!


Tenele and I before my basketball game...and right before our talk.

Stepped on a "fork knife" or STABBED?

After the splendid meeting with Tenele as told in the previous blog posts, I didn’t hear from her in a over a week. She said she’d meet me, but never did, and when I looked for her in Mangwaneni, I met Nomphilo but no Tenele. Her phone was dead, and the one time I got through a man answered and claimed he didn’t know what I was talking about in asking for Tenele. Finally, I got a “please call me” message from Tenele’s number early on Wednesday morning. (The “please call me” message is a free text you can send to others if you don’t have any airtime.) I called the number back but it was busy. A few minutes later I received two more “please call me”s, so I called and again and heard Tenele’s distant and strange voice on the other end.

“Mary-Kate you come today?”
“You’re coming today?” I asked her, because when she usually sends me messages like that when she’s coming to town to meet me.
“No…can you come to Mangwaneni?”
This was a surprisingly odd request. She never asks me to meet her there.
“Yes…what time?”
“Twelve o’clock,” she said quickly.

Before I could ask if she was okay, she hung up. But I knew something was wrong by her voice. I anxiously waited until lunch time and took Eilidh with me to meet Tenele. Tenele had said she’d meet me at the kitchen in front of the carepoint, but she of course wasn’t there. I really hate going through the squatter camp to find her, but sometimes we just have to do things we don’t want to do. So Eilidh and I both went through the camp to find her. I stopped at the normal spot where I usually find her (a mini bar/shack place), but the people sitting out there said she wasn’t around. After trying to make small talk and prodding further about where she is, one guy laughed and said, “she’s drunk.”

“Where?” I asked again, getting annoyed they wouldn’t tell me where she was.
Then he pointed further down the squatter camp and said, “she lives over there.”

“Do you know which one?”

“No, but Sphiwe knows,” he smiled and out came a girl who seemed annoyed the guy had identified her.

“Can you show me?” I asked her.

Without saying anything, she nodded and took me through the squatter camp. As we were coming around the corner of a hut, she called out something in SiSwati and Nomphilo came out and when she saw me, drew back with surprise. Sphiwe disappeared before I could thank her. I gave Nomphilo a hug and then Tenele came hobbling over.

“What happened to your foot?” I asked in shock as I saw her foot was wrapped with some gauze and still bleeding.

“Stepped on a fork knife,” she muttered as she hugged me. (FYI: she wasn’t drunk like the guy claimed.)

“Oh my gosh…are you okay?”

She just smiled. By the way she acted, it seemed as though it was just a small cut and not a big deal. So I convinced them to come with us to a holiday program that we were holding at the sports hall. On the drive down to the hall, I asked her further about her foot and she said when her and Nomphilo went to fetch water Tenele had stepped on a “fork knife” and it had gone all the way through her foot.

“What?!” I exclaimed. “It went through your foot?”

She nodded. When I parked the car, I asked to look at the wound. She unwrapped the gauze and sure enough, it was bleeding on both top and bottom of her foot. Except…the wound on top was bigger than the wound on the bottom. The one on the bottom was just a puncture wound. She definitely did not step on a “fork knife” as she claimed. But I didn’t say anything just yet.

“Tenele, you need to see a nurse or doctor. Can we take you to the clinic nurse?”

She nodded yes.
The clinic nurse wasn’t there (which is free because it’s a part of MYC and since I volunteer it wouldn’t have cost anything). So we went to St. Teresa’s clinic. While we were waiting a long time at the clinic, I learned how painful it was for Tenele. She said she was crying all night long and couldn’t sleep. She said that Nomphilo was the one who sent me the please call me messages because Tenele was still crying in the morning, and when I talked to Tenele that morning, the reason she sounded so strange was because she was trying not to cry on the phone. I couldn’t believe this poor girl had been through all that pain and still pretending like it was NOTHING when she saw me!

Tenele asked me to go into the room with her to meet with the nurse, and then we had to wait another hour to meet with the doctor. The nurse never questioned Tenele’s story, though we both knew that it wasn’t right. The wound on top was about the width of a knife, and when I tried explaining to Tenele that I didn’t believe her, she kept saying she was telling the truth. “Tenele, look…” I tried showing her. "The wound on top is bigger than the one on the bottom so it had to have gone through the top of your foot, which means someone must’ve stabbed you.”

Again, she refused to admit it, so I left it alone. I took her to my house and I made them pancakes, which they had never had before. I gave Tenele a sock to put over her bare foot to keep the bandage area clean, but before long, the wound was bleeding through the top of even the sock. I cannot imagine how much that hurt! And this poor girl, never once let me see how painful it was for her. But when I looked into her eyes I could see them glazed with tears every once in a while. Then, because Hanna needed the vehicle, she took the girls home in a rush on her way out. I told Tenele we would get her tomorrow to bring her back to the nurse to get a fresh bandage. I really hated that she was going back to Mangwaneni in state like that, especially if someone had STABBED her! I met Thembi shortly after that and told her the story. She said she was going to church and would see Johannes there and ask him if he knew of anything.

Later that night, I got a call from Thembi who relayed what Johannes had told her. He said Tenele was living with her boyfriend and that he beats her and had stabbed her. Now, Johannes didn’t see him stab her, but he said he would be the one who would’ve done it.

I was horrified. I had let Tenele go back to stay with the guy that stabbed her! I called her literally three times that night, trying to convince her to let me pick her back up and that she could sleep at my house that night. But she refused. She said she would see me tomorrow and hung up.

I was crushed and worried. I didn’t understand how she would deny an actual bed to sleep in (she sleeps on the floor) and someone to help take care of her stab wound. I was so frustrated and tried really hard not to worry about her all night. I actually slept okay until about 6 a.m. and then couldn’t stop worrying about her. I felt sick to my stomach that morning, but I had told all my housemates about the story and they said they would join me in “capturing” Tenele in the morning.

Tears into Rivers of Laughter

Journal Entry: 11-30-10

OH MY SWEET, SWEET JESUS! Oh my magnificent Master! Oh my powerful and mighty God! PRAISE you! PRAISE YOU, PRAISE YOU, PRAISE YOU!!!!

ONLY you, God...ONLY you!

You have turned my tears into rivers of joy--waterfalls of laughter! I am breathless and in utter awe of you! THANK you for answering prayers around the world for Tenele--prayers from home, prayers form Thembi, prayers from Tenele herself, and prayers from me! Oh, thank you for the army of prayer warriors behind Tenele! Wow!

I cannot stop smiling. I cannot even start explaining what happened todya because I cannot stop praising you! You are amazing! How can anyone turn from you, O Lord? You are so good! So, so good!

The Story:
At precisely two o'clock, I drove to Mangwaneni (as to respect one of the cook's advice to me to "never, NEVER walke here alone!") and waited at the kitchen as littled kids mauled me. Though the kids were more than enough to entertain me and distract me from waiting for Tenele, I couldn't help but feel a little impatient in my eagerness to see she show up. I waited nearly an hour...no Tenele. I asked one of the older boys to see if she was at "home" but he came back and said she wasn't around.

I couldn't wait any longer because another volunteer needed the car. So I left feeling bummed that Tenele didn't show up after a very promising conversation with her. However, a little while later, I picked up Titi and we were going to go back to Mangwaneni for the afternoon, when I got a phone call. It was a number from a pay phone... Tenele?

"Whey ah you?" Tenele asked on the other line.
"About to go to Mangwaneni...where are you?" I asked.
"Meet me at Nandos," she replied.
And before I could ask her if she was coming back to Mangwaneni she hung up.

So Titi and I traveled back into town and ventured out to Nandos. As we approached, my heart lept as I saw familiar bright yellow colors--the colors Nomphilo and Tenele have worn many times before. Sure enough, there they were waiting! We exchanged joyful hugs and then Titi and I took them to the mall so I could get Tenele some shoes.

After the mall, they went with me as I needed to run some errands. I offered to make them dinner at my house if they wanted to stay around with me longer. They eagerly agreed. So, back to the volunteer house we went, talking, singing, and laughing along the way.

Once in the house, I showed them my room and gave them some paper and markers and books. They worked eagerly with the art supplies and wrote me wonderfully kind messages that I am hanging on my wall. It was such a WONDERFUL day! While I went in and out of the room to prepare dinner, they worked on the art projects and read some books. Signhild, one of the volunteers, walked in and said to me, "Doing some homeschooling, Mary-Kate?" I beamed. It felt like it, and it felt wonderful. I totally felt like a mother as I prepared dinner and we set the table.

Before we ate, Titi asked who would pray. Tenele volunteered herself. I was quite surprised. She started slow and quiet, praying in SiSwati so I had no idea what she actually prayed, although in the beginning I caught the words "Mary-Kate" and "Titi" and the siswati name for God. But after that, I wasn't sure. I was just pleasantly surprised she offered.

After dinner, I showed them a card trick and they looked some pictures. But it was starting to get dark, so we headed back to drop them off at Mangwaneni. I didn't want the day to end, it was so glorious! It was like nothing had changed with Tenele. For the first time in a LONG time, it was like the girls were 14...and not 18. It was incredible. And Tenele said she would come back again to see me the next day.

After we dropped the girls off, Titi and I talked about the afternoon as I drove her home.

"Mary-Kate, Tenele's prayer really, REALLY touched my heart," she said.
"Really?" I was surprised.
"Yes..." Titi was deep in thought. "She thanked God for sending YOU to her all the way across the world. She said that she can tell you truly care for her and really want to help her have a better future. Then she prayed for protection over you...so that you can keep helping her."

Wow! Amen, Jesus! AMEN!

My journal entry says it best:

I cannot even begin to describe how amazing this afternoon was! Instead of crying in the shower and weeping in my room, I was literally laughing in the shower! I can't take this mile off my face. I totally felt like a mother and I LOVED it sooooo much! At dinner, Tenele asked if I had a baby (jokingly) and I said, 'No, but I have a child," and I pointed to her.

"Umtfana wami, (you are my child)," she beamed and agreed.

I think the notecard I gave her with the Zephaniah verse really got to her. And at the end I wrote blatantly as I could: God sent me to you.

THANK YOU, LORD, for changing her heart! Eilidh hust asked awhile ago what happened that made this SUDDEN change and my intial reaction was "I don't know," but I DO know! It's YOU! ONLY you could do this, Lord! I praise you! To you be the glory and honor FOREVER! Amen!

Tenele and Nomphilo working on art projects.


At dinner...

I Promise I Won't Run

Monday, November 29th:

After speaking with Gugu on Sunday about Tenele and finding out about her background, I was very moved and encouraged to keep pursuing Tenele. I cried so hard for her...again, but this time with tears of understanding. All I wanted to do was find her and hug her and hold her and tell her how sorry I am for what she had to go through.

So, I went to Mangwaneni to see if I could run into Tenele there. I spoke to Pununu and asked if he could go see if Tenele was home, and if she was to tell her that I was waiting on top at the kitchen to see her.
Pununu, bless his heart, nodded in agreement and disappeared into the squatter camp. In the meantime, played some hand games with the kids who were fighting over me. I never knew I could start so many fights before! One of the girls wickedly told another girl that I was her “umlungu” and the other girl hanked my arm in her direction and said no, I was her umlungu! And they all started fighting over who I belonged to…then one girl came over and said to all of them in SiSwati that I wasn’t any of there’s…I was Tenele’s. I couldn’t help but laugh. But as the kids entertained me, I was starting to wonder if Pununu would ever return because he was taking quite a long time. Finally, I saw him coming up the path.

“She won’t come,” he shook his head.
“Oh,” my heart sank.
“I told her to meet you here and she said no, but that you can meet her down there," he paused. I was bummed. I really didn't want to go into the squatter camp again. "But I told her that you didn’t want to come because she just ran away from you," he continued. "So she said she promises if you come she won't run away."

I was honestly scared to go down there; I don’t know why my heart was pounding so hard. I reluctantly decided to go to her. It was a good thing I happened to see Gugu on Sunday to hear about Tenele’s background because it made me just want to see her and hug her; if I hadn’t heard, I would not have been motivated enough to go through the squatter camp to see her. About a minute into the walk, I stopped with the two kids who were hanging on my arms and whispered a prayer. "Lord, I need your guidance, your protection, your prompting..." I really was nervous. I didn’t want to see Tenele drunk again and I really was nervous about the drunk guys. But I stepped on. Pununu paused to wait for me as he and Ayanda led the way. Slowly, VERY slowly I made my way to them. Tenele was in a green hat again and barefoot. Her eyes looked worn and tired, but she was not drunk at all. She gave me a weak side hug and didn’t smile like she usually did.

“Tenele, how are you?” I asked putting emphasis on each word.
“I am fine, Mary-Kate,” she answered without looking at me.
“Unemanga (you’re lying),” I whispered. You definitely could tell she wasn’t fine. She turned away and pointed to Nomphilo. I greeted Nomphilo very eagerly and she stood up to give me a warm hug with an at-first-awkward smile, but when I greeted her it became a genuine smile. Much better than last time. Then the woman who I am so angry at for what she did to Tenele came out and approached me. Alcohol was leaking from her breath as she gave me a huge, over exaggerated hug and said, “Oh, Mary-Kate! Do you remember me?”

I was very pleasant and loving to her, but it was so hard... I cannot imagine how a human being could do that to a young girl, especially my Tenele. I know it’s not the first time it’s happened to someone, but the first time it’s happened to someone I love so dearly and it disgusts and repulses me. This woman was SO drunk and she slightly scared me. She invited me to drink with her and some of the other young men who were there. When I denied, she tried to pull me with. Meanwhile, Tenele was standing aback watching it all. Her “step-mother” tried to talk many things with me and when she kept hanging on me and hugging me and coming centimeters away form my face I tried to pull away without offending her. Some other guys were there but they were younger and kept their distance, so I wasn’t afraid of them at all. Nomphilo sat watching us, too. At one point when step-mom hugged me, I caught Nomphilo’s eyes and I just winked at her and she smiled back like she understand what I was silently communicating with her. After step-mom’s invitation to stay and have “juice” I told her, “No, my friend is waiting up at top and I just came by to talk to Tenele and see her…and all of you,” I quickly added because I didn’t want to put Tenele in any more danger by favoring her. Step-mom has a real daughter of her own that she always tries to get me to talk to and such so I wanted to make sure it didn’t look like I was favoring Tenele in front of the evil woman.

“Oh, here for me,” the step-mom slurred her words while she hugged me again. I nodded at Tenele, who was watching me, as if to say I’m here for you, Sweetheart. I reached out my hand towards Tenele and stepped away from the drunk woman. Tenele came over to me and gave me a more sincere hug this time.

“Tenele, so some kids up at the kitchen were arguing over me. One said, 'this is my umlungu’ and another said, ‘no, she is mine’; and another piped in and said to them all, ‘no, she’s Tenele’s!’”

At this ice breaker, the beautiful smile I am used to returned to Tenele’s face as she lit up into joyful laughter. I cannot begin to describe how wonderful it was to hear her laugh! She tunred to Pununu and joyfully relayed the story in Siswati. Tenele became herself as we talked and she grabbed my hand. Then, a few girls walked past and Khanisile was one of htem. I had been wondering about her for a LONG time. (Khani was the first friend Tenele introduced me to...she was the one who apparently go Tenele into prostitution with some other girls they lived with this past year.) She saw me and hesitated, but she couldn’t pass by my surprisingly eager greeting, “Heeeey!!” She stopped as the other girl walked on.

“How are you?” We hugged.
"Fine,” she lookd to the ground.
I complimented her on her hat and said “umuhle.” Then I asked if she still wanted to go to school.
Without missing a beat, she replied, “No.”
“No?” I was surprised at her honest and quick answer. “Leni?” (Why?)
She just shrugged and couldn’t look at me. “Leni?” I asked again. It looked like she wanted to say something but she didn’t. “School is good, right Tenele?” I turned to touch Tenele’s arm. “Tell her schoool is good for her.”
“Yes,” Tenele smiled and looked at Khanisile.
“What if I taught you? If I could be your teacher, would you come?
Khani didn’t move her gaze from the ground and Tenele and her exchanged a few short words in Siswati and Tenele said, “yes, that would be nice.“

Then very seriously I took Khani by the shoulrders and said, “hey,” and waited till she looked at me. “If you ever need anything or you want to go to school or anything…you know where I stay and you just come and get me, okay?”

She nodded and returned a smile. We hugged and she carried on. I thought it was weird the way Tenele and Khani interacted, or rather DIDN'T really interact, but I didn't think much about it then. All I could think about was what perfect timing the Lord has in brining Khani by at that exact moment so I could talk to her no matter how brief it was.

I turned back to Tenele, and I addressed the last two situations when she had run away. I told her that I had run into Auntie Gugu and that she told me more about her background; I told Tenele that I cried and cried for her.
"Okay..." Tenele didn't know what to say.
I told her that I loved her and that I wasn't going to yell at her. I told her, "Tenele, you don't have to be scared of me. I am here to love you. I am not going to yell at you or do anything to do." She nodded and smiled. "Now, I do not agree with what you do, but I am not here to yell at you for it. I just love you and want the best for you." Again she broke into a huge smile and gave me a big hug.

Then Tenele said with a bit of embarrassment, "Mary-Kate...I don't have any shoes." Her feet were dirty with the mud from the rain. And she had told Ayanda she was afraid to meet us for lunch on Friday because she didn’t have shoes and didn’t want to be made fun of. She asked if I could bring her some and I arranged to come back the following day to meet her at the kitchen to take her to town and get some shoes.

As I turned to leave, she wanted to walk with me as we headed back to the top, and it was so wonderful because it was like my ol’ Tenele was back! "Okay, tomorrow two o'clock?" I asked to confirm plans.
"Yes, two o'clock at the kitchen."

As we said good-by, we hugged and exchanged “I love yous.” As she turned to leave she said, “I miss you,” and I knew how much she meant it.

And immediately I went home and prayed praises to God for this day. And I wrote the following in my journal:

Lord, I still canot imagine what she goes through. I cannot imagine all the pain she’s standing on top of. Thank you for showing me this and showing me that the only thing I need to do is to love her--love her like never before and show Christ’s love--that she can cast away her anger for you God and see that it’s you that’s pursuing her. Holy Spirit, move her to the kitchen at 2 and prepare the prayer, tears, hugs, and converatsion we will have together tomorrow! Protect her from evil. May the blessed mother herself hold Tenele and carry her to our Lord! Amen!

Nomphilo and Tenele came over one day and we were reading together outside my house.

An Evil I Cannot Fathom

My friend Ludger and I were talking about we cannot fathom the evil in this world. Just the other day, he was up all night because he got a phone call from one of the house fathers of one of the boys’ boarding homes. One of the boys had been stabbed. Ludger drove to the scene and they called the police but the police didn’t come for a long time. The boy had been laying bleeding for nearly two hours before any help got there. Ludger thought for sure the boy was going to die on the way to the hospital. He said it was the most repulsive thing he had seen, to see this teenage boy stabbed and ripped apart as if he were meat. The boy is still alive and still recovering but it just makes us sick. I know things like this happen all over the world, but I have never been this close to it before.

I found out more information about Tenele. I ran into her old teacher, Auntie Gugu, on Sunday and I asked Gugu for advice on what else I can do to help Tenele. She told me more about her background and the “step-mother” that Tenele had been living with in Mangwaneni. Gugu said that she had to BEG the woman to even let Tenele go to her basic school because the woman treated Tenele like a slave. It was not Tenele’s real mother, but they kept that hidden from her until a few years ago. The “step-mother” treated Tenele like a slave and she was beaten often. But it gets worse…the mother made Tenele sleep with other men just so SHE could get money. CAN YOU IMAGINE?!! This isn’t a brothel…this is someone that Tenele thought was her OWN mother! She was reduced to a sex slave. Gugu asked me, “Now can you see why Tenele’s heart is so hard?” I cannot imagine a human being, let alone someone who is supposed to be a mother doing this to a young girl. This was going on two years ago when I met Tenele and she was 12 years old.

I don’t mean to dwell on the evil…because despite all this evil there is SO much good, too. We cannot ignore the goodness as well, but I just cannot wrap my mind around the evil. Though some tell me it’s impossible to help Tenele or that it’s TOO late…I know otherwise, because I know that goodness is far more powerful than evil. I know that love can cover over a multitude of wrongs. I know that all of your prayers and our prayers are battling off and claiming victory over evil. I know that LOVE and PRAYER change things. I know that the Lord is working unceasingly on Tenele’s heart. And I KNOW that NOTHING can separate us from the love of God… she will be rescued and brought back to her Father’s arms. I praise God that love is greater than pain.

Johannes' Prayer

Johannes gave me a note and this prayer yesterday...

The End of my Strength is Only Your Beginning

Though I am oceans away from my old university and beloved campus church, I can still hear Fr. Mark's praying words ringing in my ears: where our strength ends, Yours truly begins."

Acknowledging my limits in Tenele's situation is more difficult than I thought, but it is EXTREMELY important. For only when I acknowledge what I CANNOT do is when God can SHOW me what HE can do. I am at the end of the road in what I can do to help Tenele, and here's why...

After seeing Tenele extremely drunk on Friday and hoping she would follow through with her words, I tried to be hopeful all Saturday morning that she would show up. I even passed up other opportunities to go place to be there "just in case" she happened to show up. She never did. On Monday Titi and I went to Mangwaneni again to be with the children. I asked about Tenele but she wasn't there. Ayanda told me that Tenele was scared but that she would bring her to the kitchen/play area where all of the kids hang out if I came back tomorrow. I came back on Tuesday, but neither Ayanda nor Tenele were there. I stopped by on Wednesday because I promised Johannes I would be back to spend more time with him. While Johannes and I were talking, I asked Pununu to fetch Ayanda. When they came back we were talking about different things when Pununu said he had seen Tenele a little bit ago on his way to fetch Ayanda. "Why didn't you bring her?!" Ayanda exclaimed. "Because she asked me to fetch you not Tenele," Pununu responded. I couldn't help but laugh. Aw, how sweet these kids are!

I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to have these three young people trying to help Tenele as well. With their company, we traveled through Mangwaneni and came to a smoky-looking shack with some men and women outside of it. They stopped at a place where Nomphilo was sitting and smoking. But she didn’t recognize it was me at first. My gang asked for Tenele, and Nomphilo was about to respond when she saw me. She half-yelled out of surprise, then tore the cigarette out of her mouth and ducked out of view. But it was too late, I had already seen her. Still, she ignored my coaxing and my “buya sisi!” and bolted into the hut and out of view. After lingering and calling for her a little longer, a few guys came out and did not look very friendly, so Johannes quickly said, “Okay, let’s go.”

The others we passed were friendly and kept pointing us in the direction to find Tenele. Finally, Pununu said, “She’s right there!” But when I looked up, she was already gone.
“She’s running,” Ayanda declared. As we rounded the corner Tenele was already gone and out of sight. They asked other girls she had been with where she went and they didn't respond. Ayanda asked some other kids; they pointed in another direction. Ayanda said to me, “Come, Mary-Kate, she went this way.” My heart sank. I was crushed that she actually ran away from me this time.

“No, no,” I replied to Ayanda. “It’s okay…if Tenele doesn’t want to come, then she doesn’t want to come.” And we slowly walked back up to the kitchen.

I didn't make to Mangwaneni on Thursday, but I told Ayanda to tell Tenele that I would love for her to join us for lunch on Friday. So on Friday I came back to take Johannes, Pununu, and Ayanda to lunch at KFC. Ayanda said Tenele wasn't there and told Ayanda she was scared. Of me? I think she's scared to face me. On the one hand, that's good because as Treasure (the woman in charge of the carepoint kitchen at Mangwaneni) says, that means she respects me. Treasure ventured that Tenele ran away because she was more than likely drunk again. But this wasn't the last time she'd run from me...

Anyway, I gathered the trio for lunch, and we started walking down the path and Johannes and Ayanda stopped me and said, "Up there," and pointed across the field. "That's Tenele."

I looked up and waved to two girls who had stopped in their tracks and were looking at us. Upon my wave, Tenele took off down the path where she was hidden by the brush and I couldn't see her anymore. Eish. That's twice now she ran from me. That girl... she breaks my heart. As painful as it is... I just cannot give up. I gave Ayanda a little note to give Tenele that says I love her. That's about all I can do at this point. She doesn't want my help, she doesn't want to change, and she doens't want to see me. All I can do is keep loving her.

It's hard to acknowledge that my strength is limited and I can do no more, but this is where God can truly take over. Maybe he just needs me to move out of the way so He can work. The more I talk to people about Tenele's situation the more I feel like it is so hopeless. In fact, Treasure told me the other day that there's really no helping Tenele at this point. "She is too far in. Her body is used to all the alcohol. And she's used to being drunk and then sleeping with men. That's her life now." And she's a bit dangerous, too, according to Treasure. Treasure told me to never live with Tenele at any point. "Why?" I asked.
"Because it will go really well at first but then one day she will get drunk. And she will call her friends. And they will come to you and do this," she held her finger up to her neck, mimicking someone holding a knife. "And they will demand all your money or anything you have...and then what will you do?"

"Umh...give them the money..." I answered.
"Exactly. And you'll have nothing." She paused.
"Would Tenele really do that?" I couldn't imagine 14 year old Tenele actually doing that.
"Mary-Kate, under the influence of alcohol, Tenele is a VERY different person..." Ayanda confirmed it as well. Though she loves Tenele and is actually good friends with her, she is far too afraid to approach Tenele any time she is drunk.

Treasure told me the only way to really help Tenele is to get her out of Manzini. But that's impossible because she won't go. She doesn't want to leave. Other friends I talk to say the same thing...that

there's no use trying to help her; it's too late.

As much as it sucks hearing this, it actually gets me more excited because I know that

what is IMPOSSIBLE for man is POSSIBLE for God!

I am embracing the fact that this is impossible to help her, because that means the power of God can truly take over. There is NO WAY Tenele will change unless by the LORD'S hand. Not mine. Not her's. The LORD'S. So I excitedly pray and wait for this day... for this miracle that I believe with all my heart will happen.

Hosea

I needed some encouragement this morning, so I went to the greatest source: the word of God. I decided to open up to Hosea, in hopes of learning something about prostitution that could encourage me with Tenele’s situation, because Hosea was commanded by the Lord to take a prostitute as an unfaithful wife. There are similar themes and situations that remind me directly of Tenele.

I started reading the introduction to the book, I already grew encouraged. The parallel between Hosea’s redeeming love for an unfaithful wife to the love the Lord has for unfaithful Israel is incredibly moving. Referring to Hosea’s obedience in taking an infidel as a wife, the author writes:

Having suffered infidelity in his marriage, Hosea acknowledged that in his own grief he could begin to appreciate the grief experienced by God. In being spurned by the person he loved most, Hosea experienced what God experienced. Imagine. Hosea could empathize with the Lord and come to appreciate the love God had for his people (Gene Giuliano Jr.).

While Hosea was in a far more painful position than I am with Tenele, I still can relate to this. While I am pained over Tenele’s situation—when she lets me down over and over again or when she rejects the love and help I try to offer—it is a blessing in disguise, because it gives me just a sliver of an idea of how painful it must be for the Lord. How incredible to empathize with the Lord, to endure a taste of what he must feel and to truly learn to value his unconditional love. After all, it’s not me that Tenele is rejecting, but it’s the love of the Lord that she runs from. It would be so much easier for me and less painful to just let go of Tenele and forget about trying to help in a seemingly hopeless situation. But then I remember Hosea’s obedience and faithfulness and how he did not quit. When his wife ran off again to continue in prostitution, the Lord commanded Hosea to go after her to demonstrate further how “the Lord loves the people of Israel, though they turn to other gods (3:1).”

As I wept for Tenele last night, I can only imagine how many tears the Lord sheds for her; and not only her, but for EVERY single one of us who turn our backs on Him, over and over and over again. I cannot fathom the pain he endures. I cannot fathom his forgiveness for our infidelity. In this introduction to Hosea, Giuliano captures the absolute pain an suffering of infidelity:

“Infidelity may be the source of what is arguably the most agonizing emotional and psychological pain that human beings can suffered. Its heart-breaking betrayal feeds on lies and deceit. And to forgive its occurrence is personally demanding and, often, seemingly impossible. The act of infidelity, unfaithfulness, tears relationships apart and renders the heart of the offended partly shattered and the soul emptied.”

To love one person after enduring this type of pain is incredible in itself, but to continue to love a world of people after they deliberately reject you, hate you, spurn you, throw your love back in your face, or prostitute themselves before you... that is an incredible love I cannot fathom--a love that moves me, a love that inspires me to continue to love Tenele no matter what "result" I get.

How blessed it is to share in the sufferings and redeeming love of our Lord.

So that's the story; here are my thoughts...

I just cannot understand Tenele’s situation. As much as I wish I knew what exactly was going on in her head, I can’t. I do not understand how she can pass up opportunities for a better future. I can’t imagine her actually wanting to be in prostitution or to live in the environment she does. But then again, I was thinking today, I’m sure alcohol is the only way she can cope with prostitution.

It breaks my heart to sit here and watch her, not being able to do anything. I have the tools and resources and anything she’d need to get her a better future, a better life, and it just blows me away that she won’t take it. What is she waiting for? Why is she holding back? What is she afraid of? Does she even want a better future? Maybe she is perfectly fine living the life she does and doesn’t want to change. These are all the thoughts I am battling with.

It crushes me time and time again to put myself out there, hoping one of these times she’ll get it—one of these times she’ll understand. I get frustrated and disappointed. And then I remember… she’s only 14 years old; she’s been selling herself for two years now so I’m sure she wonders why stop now?; this is the life she has known for the past two years, so it’s comfortable, it’s “safe” because she knows exactly what happens; she’s afraid of being let down; she’s afraid of the unknown; she’s afraid to even dream of a better future because she doesn’t want to get her hopes up. I couldn’t imagine why she would stealthily deny my attempts to help her out of her situation, but then when I put myself in her shoes, the vision changes. Who I am, a white American who comes waltzing into her life now and again, to think I can help change her life? Yes, I am here until May, and to me that seems like a long time. We can get so much accomplished by then! But not to her. She lives here, I am only staying here. If I get her out of this situation, what’s going to happen when I leave? She knows I am leaving in May, and while I’m thinking, girl, let’s get on this changing your life dealio, she’s thinking, I can’t; she’s only here until May, how could she possibly help me?

Whatever is really going through her head, I do not know. Sometimes I see that girlish ambition inside her, and other times I just see the fake act she puts on. She really wants to believe I can help her, but she won’t let herself trust me. She really wants to believe God is good, but I don’t think she can embrace it. She really wants to go to school, but I think her “friends” talk her out of it.

So where do I go? What do I do? How do I proceed? What now?

I. don’t. know.

I wish I had a team, people who can partner with me in offering these girls an alternative lifestyle to prostitution. I wish I had funds that I could start an organization right now to build at least just a small home to house these girls, to get them out of these poor environments. I wish I had a team, people who would help run this home, teach them life skills, self-worth, values, virtues, and to show them the love of Christ. If I can’t build a home, I wish I could have a place set up where they could come during the day…like a mini youth center with a mini library where they can read or learn to read and write. I wish I could sit down with each of them and listen…to hear their life stories, to offer encouragement, and to teach them about love. I wish I could have bible studies with them…and sing, pray, and worship with them. I wish I had a team, people who can join me in searching for the prostitutes at night, and offering them a place of peace, even if it’s just for one night. I wish I had a place right now where I could move into to house Tenele and Nomphilo and Khanisile. I wish there was something more I can do than just watch this all happen…

I know the best thing I can do for her is pray, but that doesn’t change the fact that it is painful to feel so helpless. I need to remember this is not about me or what I can or cannot do, but that is much easier said than done.

Feed my lambs.
Take care of my sheep.
Feed my sheep. -from John 21:14-18

Though Tenele may sometimes act like a lion, she is really just a tender lamb.
Help me take care of Tenele by praying for her. Like, literally getting on your knees and praying for her—for her change of heart, her attitude, her openness, her brokenness, her willingness to change, her surrender, and ultimately her victory and freedom in Christ.

Tenele Update Continued...

I arrived back in Swaziland the beginning of this week. One of the first things I did was call Tenele. Still dead. I talked to Thembi and found out Thembi had the same results. I called Tenele every day this week…same result. I just had a bad feeling and was really started getting worried about her. On Friday(yesterday), Eilidh and I decided to go to Mangwaneni. I was praying that I would find her or find some idea of where she is or how she is doing from people at Mangwaneni. “I know it’s not going to happen,” I muttered to God about seeing Tenele there, “but please, I just need hope…something…”

Upon arriving, I met Pununu, who eagerly greeted me with a big hug. My, how tall he is getting! We exchanged greetings and talked about his exams. Then I asked if he could help me find Ayanda. While I was gone for the week, Ayanda apparently came to the volunteer house looking for me three times! What a sweetheart! So we embarked into parts of Mangwaneni I had never been before. We finally made it to a cement hut at the end and Pununu knocked on the door. An older man came out and they exchanged some words in SiSwati, and Pununu disappeared around the corner. “Just wait here,” the older man told me.
“Unjani bobe?(how are you, father?)” I asked, to make small talk. He replied to the greeting in SiSwati and then we made small talk to pass the awkward waiting time. Soon I heard Ayanda’s excited laughter as she came running around the corner. “Ayanda!” I exclaimed as she basically flew into my arms. We quickly left to travel back up to the top of Mangwaneni and that’s when Ayanda told me that the man was her step-father.
“He sometimes beats too much,” she said nonchalantly.
“Does he beat you?” I asked.
“Eish. Just yesterday!” she exclaimed. But she quickly shrugged it off and said she usually doesn’t stay with him. The more we talked, I asked if she knew where Nomphilo lived (Nomphilo is one of Tenele’s friends). “Nomphilo? No. But Tenele’s here.” Ayanda knows all about my mission to help Tenele.

“She’s here?!” I nearly jumped out of my sneakers. “Like… here as in right now?” I needed to clarify that I was understanding her English.
“Yes, she’s been staying here for a couple weeks now.”
“Really? With who?”
“I… don’t know…”
“Can you take me to her?”
Both Ayanda and Pununu just laughed at me. "Ah, Mary-Kate..." she hesitated. It took some coaxing but eventually Ayanda gave in and the three of us set off to find Tenele.

They took me through different parts of Mangwaneni when I was mauled by a group of little kids yelling, “Umlungu! Umlungu (white person)!” As I was preoccupied with the kids, Ayanda disappeared, so I turned to Pununu to ask if they found Tenele.

“Up there,” he nodded to a few young women who were staring at me…actually, more like glaring at me.

“She’s hiding,” Ayanda called as she reappeared.

“Hiding? Why is she hiding?” I said loud enough for all of them to hear. There was some laughter and muttled talk I couldn’t understand. “Tenele!” I called.
“In the green hat,” Pununu softly offered.
Sure enough, in-between two glaring faces, a third one with a green hat appeared.
I waved eagerly, not put off by the opposing looks. “Tenele! Buya sisi!” (Come here, sister!)

She laughed and disappeared. I waited a few minutes longer with the kids while she slowly showed herself and came closer. You know that “sixth” sense we sometimes have? Well, I just knew something was wrong by seeing her approach, and it was like my heart sank without even knowing why. But when she reluctantly accepted my hug, I knew exactly why. Her eyes were so glazed over; she had this odd, fake smile plastered on her face, and she tried her hardest not to look at me. Either she was very, very drunk, or high…or both. Whatever she was, it was heart-breaking. She lingered not but a moment, and at my inquiry of where Nomphilo was, she then bolted back to the other girls (who were still watching me with magnetic eyes) and basically shoved Nomphilo down to me. Nomphilo had this shameful smile on her face, too, like she didn’t know what to do when I tried to talk to her. She looked back to the other girls, who were laughing hysterically, and I knew there was no point in trying to talk to her because she had no idea what I was saying.

She went back up to the girls and Tenele came back down. Seemingly agitated, (probably because I saw her like this), she spat some words in SiSwati to Ayanda and Pununu. Imagining that she was mad at them for taking me to her, I gave her arm a gentle tug and directed her attention to me. “Tenele, look at me. Hey…look at me.” She turned her face to me. “You know I love you, right?”

At this comment her face sobered up a bit. She nodded, but could hold my gaze no longer. “And you know I care about you, yes?” She nodded again, still looking off to the side. “And you know that I want you to have a good future?” Again, she nodded. “But Tenele, I can only help you if you let me; I can only help you if you want a better future,” I paused to see if she understood. “Do you still want to go to school?”
“Yes.”
“Then, you have to show up. Tenele,” I paused and tried to get her to look at me so that she knew this was serious. “Tenele, I CANNOT get you into school if you don’t come next week. We are running out of time. And if you’re in school that means you need to come to town every day…” she nodded as if she understood, though I’m not sure exactly what all she will remember. But I have confidence that something stuck. I have hope that this unplanned meeting woke her up a bit; I know she doesn’t want me to know about her lifestyle, and she was so embarrassed when she saw me.

“Mary-Kate, I will come,” she affirmed. “I will come tomorrow…twelve o’clock.”
“Okay,” I sighed, knowing full well there was a minimal chance she would follow through. We hugged and she quickly departed, disappearing behind the huts. As Ayanda, Pununu, and I started to leave and we turned the corner, I looked over to see if she was still there. I couldn’t see her but the other girls were still there…still staring.

“Ba-bye!” I sent them a friendly smile and wave. Surprisingly, it was returned.

Update on Tenele-Bell

Not much has happened, while much has happened. I have been avoiding updating you on Tenele because I didn’t feel like there was much to write about. There’s seemingly no progress, and sometimes I feel like my energy in this is worthless. Sometimes I feel like I should be doing so much more, but I honestly just don’t know what else to do. I feel trapped…limited…frustrated…and disappointed…disappointed with Tenele, but mostly with myself and my lack of progress in this whole situation. I know it’s not a problem that can be solved in a short time, but it just seems so hopeless. I know I shouldn’t feel hopeless, but with her situation and living environment…that’s just how I feel. So here’s the update…

Thembi, a teacher I worked with two years ago who also knows Tenele, offered to take Tenele into her house starting in January. Her offer is brilliant and I can hardly believe the offer is true, because really the best two ways to help Tenele is to 1) get her in school and 2) get her out of her living environment. As long as she lives where she is, she won’t change. So, the three of us (Thembi, Tenele, and I) all met to briefly talk about this.
(Thembi and I outside her house)
Tenele seemed excited with the idea of living with Thembi, and when I pulled her aside to ask her about it later she said she was willing and would like to live with her. I would pay for Tenele’s food and any toiletry type things she would need in order not to burden Thembi (who is not financially stable enough to support someone else). The idea is fabulous, especially because Thembi is an amazing woman whom I truly trust. Thembi is the one who is helping me arrange getting Tenele into school and also suggested Tenele should see a counselor. Thembi wants Tenele to go to some counseling sessions before she would move in to live with her, which is a very intelligent decision. So, at our meeting, we settled three things: 1) Tenele would school at Nazarine—a school that has a primary and secondary school along with a college of nursing and college of teaching; it’s an expensive school, but one that Tenele needs because she needs to be motivated with a future plan/dream; she wants to be a nurse, so this would be perfect for her; 2) she would meet with a counselor—my good friend has her degree in counseling so I asked Tenele if she would be willing to meet with her, since I trust her, and Tenele agreed; and 3) live with Thembi starting in January. So this all looks good on paper and brilliant in my thoughts, but in all practicality it’s quite a different story.

Tenele never showed up to meet the counselor. In fact, after that meeting, she didn’t show up for two weeks. She finally came to me a little over two weeks ago, and when I asked her why she didn’t come before as planned, all she could do was avoid looking me in the eyes and said, “Sorry, Mary-Kate, sorry, sorry.” I asked her again about the counselor but she politely declined. A part of me sank, but another part of me was glad she actually told me the truth rather than what I “want” to hear, because I feel like many times she just says things that she thinks I want to hear, when in all reality, I just WANT to hear the truth.

We are QUICKLY running out of time to get her into any school for next year. After Tenele finally came, we arranged to meet again on Thursday to talk with Thembi about actually going to the school and trying to get her enrolled at Nazarine. Thursday rolled around… no Tenele. I wasn’t surprised. In fact, I would probably have been more surprised if she had shown up. Friday morning I received a call from home about the passing of my grandpa, so 24 hours later I was on a plane home for the week. I tried calling Tenele before I left, but her phone was dead. I texted her in hopes she would still meet with Thembi while I was gone. Thembi promised to try to get in contact with her.

The Five Facts Everyone Should Know

Let me share a few facts with you:
1) Traveling is always an adventure
2) Don't fly with Delta
3) Tears make others soften up, though they don't really accomplish anything
4) The Atlanta airport hates me
5) God can make good come out of any bad situation

So, if you read my previous post, you know that I came home this past week. And as you can guess, I've had some problems getting back to Swazi. Let me just share the past 24 splendid hours with you. :)

My flights back home to Swazi go as follows: Milwaukee to Cinncinati to Atlanta to Johannesburg to bus to Swazi. I am about halfway right now. And it all started in Milwaukee. There's a joke with my housemates and I that somebody really doesn't want me in Swaziland because I kept getting all the sickness and rashes and whatnot and my housemates stayed healthy...well, this joke really isn't funny anymore. Innitially, the people at the airport in Milwaukee would not let me check in or get on my flight because they said I needed a return ticket. Well, I explained to them that I had been there for two months, had flown home for a funeral, so my "roundtrip" ticket was from joburg back to joburg. They said I couldn't go because I have a U.S. passport and have to show that I am not staying in Joburg. What? So, nearly two hours, a few tears, and $2500 later...I am finally checked in. I had to buy a "fake" ticket back home to show I wasn't staying in Joburg...but it's refundable, so when I get there, I can get the money back.

Okay, so stop #2: Cincinnati to Atlanta. The window of time from my arrival in ATlant to when I needed to catch my Joburg flight was short enough, so when we started having delays in Cinci, I was freaking out. There's no way I am going to catch that flight, I thought. I talked to the flight attendents on the plane and they kindly reseated me to the front of the plane to get me off asap. The delays was because of a luggage and inbalance problem. The pilot let us all know it was Delta's fault and even encouraged us to go online and let them hear about it. He did everything he could to get us there in record timing...so from the moment I stepped off the plane to when my Joburg flight departed was now 15 minutes. For those of you who know how HUUUUUGE the Atlanta airport is, know how nearly impossible it is to catch this flight in 15 minutes...let alone travel the completely OPPOSITE end of the airport where the international flights are. Anyway, I ran, jumped on the train thing and as I kept watching the clock, my eyes started tingling...don't cry don't cry...you can still make it! I thought again. I sprinted off the train and hustled to gate E10...the doors were closed there was no attendant there. I huffed and puffed, catching my breath and trying not to cry and a few bystanders told me to bust through the door...I tried...it was locked. Then a lady came over and was like, "Oh, you're going to Johannesburg?"
"Yes!" was all I could say.
"It's too late," she bluntly said. Then she changed her tone when I started to cry. "Well, let me check..." she goes through the doors and then comes back. "The JUST closed the door."

Seriously?!

All she could say when I started to cry was, "oh..."

But because it was Delta's fault, at least they rebooked me for free. Then they were going to put me up in a hotel for a "discounted" price. But (if you are familiar with one of my first posts, you will know who I'm talking about) my friend's mom lives in Atlanta, so I called around and got a hold of her number. She graciously picked me up at the airport with her daughter Rebecca. And I was pampered and loved for the past night and today, and it was a wonderful comfort before I head back to Swazi.

So...basically, always be ready for adventure when traveling, don't book a flight with Delta, tears are needed sometimes but don't solve things, there's something about the Altanta airport that apparently doesn't like me, and God is good. I am very blessed to have Ellen and Rebecca Farish taking care of me in a situation like this. Praise God for them, and the way our Good Lord can make us smile in any circumstance! :)

Well, time's up...I WILL be catching this next flight...see you on the other side.

Divine Interruption

At 2:30 in the morning last Friday, I received a surprise phone call from home...it was my mom delivering terrible news: my grandpa had passed away. We had known that he was sick and struggling for awhile; in fact, the doctors did not think he would last much longer after I left for Swazi. But slowly and surely my grandpa improved and lasted 7 weeks more than anyone thought. Nonetheless, death is hard to handle. The hardest part for me was that just a week earlier, my dad mentioned to me, "I think you might even see him again!" This was incredible news, especially since my grandfather is very dear to me, and it was so painful to leave him, knowing I would probably never see him again.

As my mom talked me through it over the phone, I of course started crying. She told me that my uncle offered to pay for my ticket home, but it was up to me if I wanted to leave or not. "Don't make any decisions now," she instructed. "Get some sleep and I will call you later and see what you think." But I couldn't sleep. I sat out in the living room with a box of kleenex and cried really hard. I cried because just a few days ago, I had written my grandpa a letter--a letter that was already on its way over to him...but was too late. I cried because my grandpa never wanted me to leave. He literally HATED that I was going to Swazi and he let me know. He asked me to stay. He grumbled at my grandma, asking her why she couldn't convince me to stay. As I said a final good-bye to him before I left for Swazi, he mentioned to my aunt, "I wish we had rope and could tie her down so she wouldn't leave." And I cried because I had the opportunity to call him...but never did. I kept putting it off, thinking I had more time; I didn't. As I sat there bawling, it just so happens that one of my housemates got up to go to the bathroom. She saw the light on and came to see who was out there. When she saw me, she sat down with me, listened to me, gave me a big hug, and then went to her room to retrieve a stuffed animal for me to hold on to as I slept that night.

So much pressure, so many thoughts. Should I come home or shouldn't I? Should I be there for me family and leave my kids? Should I take the miserable and long plane ride there and back again? I talked it over with some of my housemates and spent some time in prayer. I never in a million years thought I would come home during my 9 month mission...but I knew I had to.

At first I felt guilty for leaving, as if I were weak and not "strong enough" to stay....and I felt like I was interrupting my mission work and my ministry by going home. But then I was reminded that mission work never stops, no matter where I am. My mission is to serve the Lord and that happens everywhere and anywhere, and my mission is also to love and serve my family. Though being home for a week was incredily WEIRD and under bad circumstances, it was the best decision I made.

I was able to say good-bye properly to my grandpa...my fan, my friend. I was able to spend time with my grandma, who never let me forget how thankful she was I came home for this. I was able to spend time with all sorts of family, to demonstrate my love for them, to share what's been going on in Swazi, and most importantly, to share WHY I am serving in Swazi.

I had the pleasure and privelege of sharing a tribute to my grandpa at the funeral, a celebration of his life and a celebration of love. I posted it as a note on facebook if any of you are interested in reading more about him and what he taught me. The greatest lesson I learned this past week? Love never fails. Though my heart is aching and hurting to leave my loved ones once again, I am also eager to get back to my kids whose hearts ache and hurt to be loved...to have someone to call family.

Appreciate love. Cherish your family. And share with those who are without.

"It's Not My Fault"

After teaching yesterday, one of my students came to me at break time and said her friend was sick. So I went back to the classroom to find Fungile lying on her desk, with her head buried in the crease of her elbow.

“Unani sisi?” I asked. (What’s wrong?)
She didn’t respond.
“Uyagula yini?” (Are you sick?)
She nodded her head, but kept it hidden. She had been sleeping during class and had been sick last week, but the head teacher would not let her go home.
“Fungile,” I gently shook her shoulder, “Fungile, can you look at me for a second?”

“Miss Kates,” Nolwazy, Fungile’s close friend, addressed me, “she’s crying.” Crying in front of someone, especially a teacher, is something they are ashamed of, so that’s why she wouldn’t look at me. “She’s crying and wants to go home. Talk to teacha so she can go home.”

“Do you want to go home?” I asked Fungile. She shook her head yes.
So I went and talked to the teacher and told him she really needed to leave. He approved and so I walked with her to the clinic to see the nurse and got her on a kombi (van) to go home.

But Fungile being sick in class reminded me that I had not seen another student, Mbali, for an entire week now. “Is Mbali sick, too?” I asked the group of girls. They shrugged their shoulders.
“She hasn’t been here all week. Do you know what’s wrong?”
The head teacher didn’t know either.
“Where does she live?” I asked.
“In Moneni…by Thulile,” Nolwazy answered.

I called Thulile over and prodded her about Mbali.
“Oh…no…she’s not sick…” she avoided eye contact with me.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Uh…she has a problem, Miss Kates.”
“What’s that?”
She paused, scanned the room to see if anyone was looking and answered, “Um…she’s pregnant.”

My heart sank. She's only 16. Thulile told me she was scared, and I can understand why. So, I asked Thulile to bring me to Mbali.

That afternoon, Thulile met me at Mangwaneni Care Point. I brought my Swazi friend Titi and we journeyed out on a long walk to Moneni. When we met Mbali, I took her aside and talked to her for a long time. At first she was quite upset I knew that she was pregnant. She said nobody was supposed to tell and that only a few teachers from the school knew about it. But once I told her that she can trust me and that I can help her, she softened up quite a bit. She told me that the headmaster asked her to leave school because she is nearly 5 months pregnant. I couldn't tell because even as I talked to her she was wearing a big, baggy shirt. But what she told me broke my heart.

"The teachas, they say I can still take exams because it wasn't my fault."

"It wasn't my fault," she kept saying. "He raped me. And the boy, he in jail now."

I couldn't believe it. I cannot imagine this 16 year old being raped and now carrying a child. She lives with her sister...she has parents but they live somewhere else. But she has no support. She has no help. I asked her what she was going to do with the baby and she said "leave it."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, after February (when she is due) I can go back to school. I will give the baby to my parents."

"Are they going to keep the baby?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know."

I gave her my cell number and told her that if she ever needs anything she should call me. I told her she needs someone to walk her through this and that I can be there for her or take her to the doctor or whatnot. But do you know she was worried about the most? It wasn't that she was pregnant or that she was raped...it was that she couldn't be in school...she was worried about exams. "Can you call me when it's time for exams because I want to move on to grade seven," she told me.

Education is so so so important to them...because what else do they have? So, I am arranging exercises and homework sheets and things to give to Thulile to bring to Mbali. I also told her I would come back and check on her again.

This all happened after meeting Tenele and two other friends earlier that day. More on Tenele in another blog...but basically I have a had a rough couple days and I cried really hard last night about it all. I cried for Mbali, for Tenele, for girls like them, and I cried because though I am in a position to help them, I feel so helpless. The questions keep looming...what do I do, what do I do? How can I help? But as I journaled about it last night, a song by Casting Crowns came on and it reminded me that the best thing I can do is...

"Love them like Jesus. Carry them to Him. His yoke is easy; his burden is light. You don't need the answers to all of life's questions. Just know that he loves them. Stay by their side. Love them like Jesus."

Stirred Souls

When I stand in front of my classroom, I see
thirty-one pairs of hungry eyes looking to me.
They come to class with a yearning mind and soul,
wondering if they can really be made whole.
Their stories are beyond my understanding of pain;
yet, they don’t show sorrow; they know to play the game.
Sometimes they don’t listen to what I say,
and getting their respect is a challenge every day.
Trying to manage their behavior is quite exhausting,
Teaching them is no chocolate-covered frosting.
But when I get frustrated and want to leave the place,
I look into their eyes to what’s beyond the face.
For behind their hardened shells, it is easy to see
Thirty-one yearning souls—who want the same things as me.

They want to be loved, to be noticed, to be heard,
To feel important, to feel purpose, to feel their souls stirred.
They want someone who will listen, one to give them a chance,
Someone with patience to lead them in life’s dance .
They want someone to bring hope, like the light of a star,
Someone to see them for who they truly are.
They want to dream for a future successful and bright,
Someone to encourage them when they’re too tired to fight.
They want to believe in purpose when life’s not fair;
They just want to know someone honestly cares.
They want to succeed at something…anything,
To know they can still fly with an injured wing.
They want what we all want—to be loved, noticed, and heard
Are these simple demands really that absurd?

So I embrace the challenge of teaching each beautiful soul
As I try to show them a Love that can make them whole.
It’s my commission, my purpose, my ministry
To love like there’s never an end to me.

The Bigger Picture

It's not about me.

This phrase is much easier to say than to actually put into practice. I had a good lesson in humility this week. For some reason, I had a particularly difficult time keeping my students' attention in the classroom. They were a little more noisy and disrespectful than usual, and yesterday I was fed up with it. I was helping them review for a test I was giving them today, but they just would not listen. Finally, I gave up and said, "Okay, if you don't want my help, then I won't give it to you. You are on your own for the test tomorrow." And then I sat down and let the other teacher take over for the next subject. (And they did just as horrible on the test today as I thought they would.) But I left the room very frustrated and upset. What else can I do to fight for their respect every single day? It gets tiring. They just don't get it. But then I started reading through some of their answers to an in-class activity...and my attitude started to change. I realized that there is a much bigger picture to what is going on, and I need to step back from the situation (and my emotions) to see it.

In class I read them the poem "Boxes," which talks about how God gives us two boxes: a black one to hold our sorrows and a gold one to hold our joys. The message of the poem is to let go of our sorrows and hold on to our blessings. So, I had my students write their sorrows on little pieces of paper and had them throw them into a bowl--to LET GO of them. I then had them come up with "happy lists" (something my good friend Jess Mollison introduced me to when I was having a stressful time being an RA at college.) They wrote at least ten things that made them happy, ten things that they were thankful for; most of them came up with more than ten. I had them share their happy lists in class, but told them not to put their names on the sorrows and that I would be the only one to see them.

Well, after class I started reading through their sorrows and I had to stop. I had to wait until I got back to the house so I could read them alone because they made me cry. Oh, how my heart broke for these kids. I mean, it's one thing to know that Swazi is the most AIDS/HIV infected country in the world, but to know that certain students in my very own classroom have it is an entirely different meaning. I can't imagine some of the pain and sorrows these youth have had. Yet, they come to class with smiles on their faces and eagerly write happy lists. It's truly humbling and truly incredible.


Reading their sorrows and crying for these kids made me see a much bigger picture--a bigger picture outside of myself and my classroom. It's not about me. It's not about me trying to get my kids to listen to me. It's not about me as the teacher. I was frustrated because I was acting as if it's about me. But it's about the students.

When I stand in front of my students, I am not there to figure out how to earn their respect; I am there to love them, and through that I will gain respect. Who am I as this white foreigner to expect to waltz into their lives and change things? They go through teacher after teacher, friend after friend, parent after parent...people come and go so quickly into their lives. They are not used to someone that really cares about them. They are not used to a teacher who would never lay a hand on them to harm them.

I thought I was coming here to teach. No, I am here to learn. I am here to grow right along side my students, and through this is where the real teaching occurs.

(By the way, I scored a 16/20 on the SiSwati test the students gave me today. Let me tell you, they LOVED it!)

The bigger picture? It's not about me. It never was. It never will be.

As Mother Teresa puts it, I am simply "a pencil in the writing hand of God."

Just a Girl

A poem I wrote the other day about Tenele...

With a hat tilted sideways,
She struts the streets of Manzini,
A see-through white top
Barley meets the top of her jeans,
Exposing her butterfly belt buckle.

Men call to her;
Women stare at her;
The wrong people know her.

She has few friends,
too many “lovers.”
She lies about them
to cover it up;
She lies with them
to make a living.
But if you look into her eyes
you’ll see her eyes never lie.

Her eyes are like dark chocolate against her fair-black skin.
They glisten with beauty of youth;
Yet, the wrinkles tell of her pain—
pain that has aged her,
pain she ignores,
pain that gives her money,
pain she has accepted as life.

Her eyes… they never lie.

At night they are dark and tainted--
Bitter and jaded while she works.
In the day, the sunlight sometimes catches
A glimpse of the girlish dreams inside.

Her eyes are piercing,
Like the knife she holds.
She can be cruel, so full of hatred,
But her eyes are full of desperation--
A desire to simply be loved.

Her eyes…they never lie.

She lives like she is 21;
She claims that she is 17;
But her eyes say she is only 14,
Just a girl.

She’s just a girl.

A girl with a hat tilted sideways
Hiding her shame.
A see-through white top
Calling for attention.
A butterfly belt buckle
Wishing she could fly away

Men grab for her;
Women scoff at her;
The wrong people know her.

Who will love her?

You Know You're in Swazi When...

These are a few funny things to give you a better picture of my life in Swazi... :)

Being called "fat" is a compliment.

Your nickname becomes "Blue Eyes" because blue eyes are so rare.

"Ngisha dile" (I am married) becomes a regular part of speech so guys will stop proposing.

A wild cat in the house (who likes to sift through the kitchen garbage) is the least of your worries...

Electricity goes out for a night or a weekend...and you spend time with one another talking over candle light.

School is canceled because there's no water.

People know you are American by the pace of your walk.

All over town, you see people with umbrellas...not to block the rain, but to block the sun's heat.

Enjabulweni School

When people ask me how school/teaching is going, I sometimes don't know what to say...I find myself at with a lack for words, not because there's nothing to tell but because there is so much to say. It is a challenge, but one I enjoy immensely. It has been very, very difficult to go from teaching in the States with all the technology and resources I need at my fingertips to a bridging school in Swaziland with no resources and nothing but chalk and a chalkboard. While it is overwhelming and frustrating at times, it is rewarding to learn to use whatever limited tools and resources I have to teach my students. The best part about teaching them is that they are hungry for knowledge. I read them a story yesterday and it was the most quiet they have been. One boy even asked if he could take the book home, and when I said, "of course," he was surprised I let him. Books are special here, and I love that they love them!

They love school because to them school is a privilege. The students I teach are ones who are either off the streets or ones who cannot afford regular education in Swazi. However, (contrary to what I had hoped) just because they enjoy school doesn't mean that they behave. They are just like any other teenagers around the world--little rascals. ;)

On a serious note, I have been both amazed and humbled by many of my students' responses to the writing prompts I give them. Just to give you a taste of who some of these young men and women are, I am including a handful of their writing responses below.

Yesterday, I read the students an African story called, "Fly, Eagle, Fly," and afterwards I had them write in their journals about what they would do or where they would go if they could fly like the eagle. These are a few responses:

Mciniseli, 13: “If I could fly like an eagle, I could go to the mountain.

If I could fly like an eagle, I could go to the mountain because the air comes nice and my wings could streach and streach.
I could go to my grandmother and visit her because her house at Mololotja is to far away from town I could fly and fly and reach there.
I would fly up to the mountains, hills, and up the sky so I can see the hool world.”


Ncobile, 15: “If I cold fly like an eagle I will fly up into the sky and see the moon and stars.
I will fly to China I will want to see the country of China. I could fly to visit Mantenga Falls.
I could fly to Zimbabwe to visit president Mngabe. I could fly to visit at Durban.
I could fly to visit at U.S.A. I could fly up to heave to see Jesus and Angels.
I could fly to visit Zambia because I want to know all the countrys in the world.”

Vukane, 15: "If I can fly like an eagle I can go to visit other country like USA and South Africa. I can fly to this country because I want to get a job when I finish school.
I can fly there until I get money to the job so that I can do many thing with the money.
What I can do with the money is that, I can give my mother so that she can buy food for us at home.
The rest of the money I fly to Somalia to give the poor people so that God my blessed me. I wish to fly like an eagle so that I can enjoy my life.”

Here are a few other entries from previous writing prompts (some are sweet, some might make you cry):

Thabani, 13: “When I am grow up I want to be a soldier then when I get my casn I will make a business by build the shops then I buy something that I will sell in the shop. Then I make many business in Swaziland then I will be the business man. Then I help the poor people an give them food shelter. And I will go around the streat and fetch children that they need shelter and give them education.”

Vukane, 15: “If I can get four gold coins I can spend the money by buying nice clothes for my sister and I. After that I give my mother the change for buying food like rice, meat, and vegetable.”

“My mother is my hero. Because she look after me she cares for every one at home. She put me at school so that I can lern about every thing. My mother is my hero because she know that she mus buy clothes for us so that we will look likes other childrens.”

Nobuhle, 15: “There are many bad days in my life but to day I want to write about the worst day in my life.

It was Thursday I was at home with my step mother. My step mother boil water after boiling the water she than call me. And she tell me that I have to clean the house.

When Im bussy clening the house she than take the boil water and put it on me this how that day became the worst day on me.”

What do you want to learn? “I want to learn about how to write spellings and what you think it can help me in my life.
How can I help you become a better student? “I want you to teach me about what you think it can help me. By teach me how to do all of this things that you think it can make me to be better.

Nolwazy, 14: “My name is Nolwazy Kunene. I live at Modonsa. I’m 14 year old. I go to Enjabulweni Study Centre. I live with my mam and sisters. In my family we are five. I like to play netball, swimming and dance. I like colour pink, orange, green and yellow. My father was died long ago and I do not know him.”


“When I grow up I want to be a nurse. I want to finish school first. I want to go to University and achive my ambision. I want to help sick people in Swaziland and helps poor people. I pray to God and give me a power to help those who need to help. I want to build a beautiful house and have two children boy and girl. I want to help my family because is poor. I want to help people to building they house. In life you must know that life is too difficult. I want to build my mom beautiful house and beautiful car.”

So... I figure the best way to tell you how teaching is going is to show you the hearts of some of my students. Though they can be frustrating (like today...they wouldn't listen for the life of me), I count myself truly blessed to be in a position to teach such eager and thirsting hearts. If you think of it...pray for them, their dreams, their futures...their lives.