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Our boys on Nyope

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Our Boys on nyope…drugs

Our Boys on nyope…drugs

Every time I pass by I don’t look. Or maybe just a little bit but only to make sure no one wants to rob me. But I do smell the odour of urine and dirty bodies. It is there. Around the tree where they live. Sometimes there is few of them, sometimes over twenty. I see them for the first time in 2016 , that’s when I join Dignity…

            STOP- I hear in my head one day when I pass by the tree. I stop. I look around. I look on the faces of those living there. I kneel down to look deep into their eyes. For the first time I open my ears to listen to their stories. I open my heart… I pray for many that day.

FEED THEM – I hear again. So I bring food. They want to pray before.

  • You don’t have to pray to get food from me, I say.
  • We want to pray, I hear back.

We join our hands and thank our Father for food.

  • It really must have been God to bring you today, I hear
  • Why, I ask
  • I was hugry and prayed for food, he says
  • Thank you for seeing us and not treating us like a scum, I hear from another one.

WORSHIP WITH THEM – I hear the voice in my head again. I bring a girl with a guitar. I take my drum. “You are not forgotten” are the lyrics of the song. Short but powerful. They start dancing and singing God’s truth over their lives…Two hours pass by… people join… the joy and peace came too.

            Drug addicts. These are the ones I see every week. I shake hands. I give hugs. I don’t smell the odour of dirty bodies anymore. I don’t see homeless. I see boys. I see sons of the Most High. I look at them the way God sees them with the potential and destination for their lives. I don’t look back like many does passing the tree. Now I search for them when they are not there. I look around to find them when they are busy washing cars to earn for drugs.

They all have homes but they are trapped. They stuck on the street to feed their addiction. They cry for help. They cry for change… They cry for freedom which they lost. Many of them had jobs, finished schools, had families. It’s all gone. The trap of drugs got them all and don’t want to let them go.

I bring a friend to the street. I introduce her to the boys. We talk to Jimmy.

  • He is serious about getting out, I tell her
  • He is not the only one, I hear from the boy standing behind…

I go to the office one morning. Two of them are waiting outside. Desperate for help. Asking to be send to rehab. I sit on the side of the road with them. I take their details. I promise to help.

I take another one to the office. I prepare coffee. We talk. I give him a clean t-shirt from my husband. I need to go home… he goes back to the street. I promise to help…

I promise to so many… My heart breaks down every time I promise and leave them on the street…

            We sent some to detox. We sent some to rehab. Some didn’t make it. Some are still fighting for their lives.

“One by one, help us God”, I pray.

Lets give them their dignity back. Lets help them to be husbands, fathers and sons again. We can’t do it alone but together we can safe someone’s life. They are dying there. Either from drugs, diseases or crimes. The time is now to make a change. We need a lot to help them all. But lets try with one at a time. Costs are huge but together we can make a difference. I believe…

Believe with me.

Sylwia

Please consider donating to this worthy cause https://irisdignity.org/donate/rehab-project/

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