A team of nineteen friends from Tennessee and Missouri traveled to visit the children and caregivers this summer, 2016, and had the privilege of singing and dancing with the GFE children, teenagers, and young adults. Here is one of the favorite songs sung by the GFE kids...The House of God.
Here is another video featuring the children, teenagers, and young adults of The Haven and Fresh Start Homes (a.k.a. The GFE Children's Home).
The Children of The Haven and Fresh Start Homes (a.k.a. The GFE Children's Home) Released a Swahili Language Music Video in 2015
Allan May Oluoch is now a university student and musician. Check out his personal story below, written several years ago when in high school.
Introduction
Following is the story of Allan B. Oluoch, one of the young men of The Haven Children's Home. I'll preface his story with one of my own. When Allan was in the eighth grade, I was visiting with his teachers and the headmaster at the Cheramei Primary School. When I introduced myself the teachers smiled real big, and one of them ran away abruptly and returned shortly with the school roster. She pointed to the top of the academic ranking to show me that Allan B. Oluoch was now going by the name Allan May Oluoch. Even though there are several children in this world who have been named after me, I was never so proud as I was that moment when I realized Allan chose to take my name as his own. He is a good son! When I first met Allan in 2005, he was downtrodden and seldom smiled. He spoke almost no English, and in his own words, he was illiterate. He is now fluent in English and wrote his story himself. I think you'll agree he has a very unique way with words. Enjoy!
- Alan May (Daddy Mzungu)
Background History
My name is Oluoch May Allan. I was born on 12th December 1994 with a single father and mother from a humble family of five. I was the last-born in our family and until now I’m still holding that achievement of being the last-born. The time my mum gave birth to me we were living in a rental house in one village called Maili Tisa in Kitale town. By then the place was so dirty, I mean we were living a ghetto life. Seconds were changing to minutes, minutes to hours, hours to days, days to weeks, months then years. It came a time in the year 2000 when everything got worse. My mother was suffering from typhoid that ate her for weeks. Doctors were taking care of her in one of the hospitals in Kitale town. By that very moment I was also suffering from a skin disease that until now I can’t understand where and how it got into me as a little child.
Things were getting more uncomfortable in our life. I was just a little boy but I was truly feeling for my mother and myself. At least I can figure out well when our landlord zoomed to his houses where we were living arguing with my big brother who had just arrived from his usual evil deeds in a nearby bar. The landlord insisted that we should move out because my mother had not paid the rent for over three months. My big brother did not manage alone, instead he went and called one of my mum’s friends to come and flow into the matter. At least she talked with the landlord and we were given one more day to get the money or we find somewhere else to call home.
My mom’s friend together with my brother could not get the money, so we had to move to another shanty house nearby. It was also a single room.
Tragedy Too Soon
One day I woke up from my sleep and I was shocked, since nobody was around. My brother who was taking care of us had left very early in the morning. I stood miserably at the door crying for my brother and my mum to come back. At that time the skin disease which I had on my body had eaten most of my body parts except the face, hands and legs. That day I ate nothing because there was no one to cook for me. At around 6:00pm, one of the officials from our S.D.A church came to our place and found me alone in the house crying. He comforted me then took me to a hotel. When we had arrived in hotel, my brother came in looking worried, he talked with the pastor in a low tone then immediately we left the hotel and went home. After arriving at home, they went inside the house. ‘Is there a problem, or it’s a secret?’ I asked myself since I felt something strange. Within no minutes, my brother came out of the house shedding tears until he fell down to the ground. It was a moment of great sorrow when he pronounced that my mother is dead. At that time, I did not cry, it was like I did not know what was going on. One of my mother’s friends also came to our place shedding tears. She comforted us and took us to her place. Then together with my brother and the church official, they went were my mother was. It was that year (2000) that until now is ringing into my mind in remembering the death of my mum VERA VICKY ANYANGO who died of typhoid.
After the Death of My Mum
I did not talk about my father because I did not see him since when my mother started suffering. Until now I cannot say how he looks like or where he is. It is only my big sister who can tell how he was.
After the burial of my mother at Kiplome in Kitale, my aunt who lived in a place called Imbo in the Luo land took me and she said before the S.D.A church that she is going to take me to school. My sister, who was second to the last born, was also taken in by our first-born sister, Bethline Aoko.
After two days I went with her where she lived. Her place was very far where I saw like I was in another world. The place is around Lake Victoria where people do a lot of fishing. That was the place where my life began afresh. After staying in the place for almost two weeks, I reminded my aunt about me going to school, which she had promised in church, but her response was so negative until I felt like crying. She told me that I should not haste her because she is not my mother. Her husband assigned me the duty of taking care of his animals meanwhile my aunt’s children and her grandchildren were going to school. At that time I did not have anybody to take me to school. My work at that home was, after breakfast, I take the animals for grazing, at around 1:00 pm take the animals at the lake to drink water, and then continue grazing the animals till 5:00 pm when I would come back home. I never took lunch. I continued with this life from 2001 to 2003 when I was 9 years old. I decided to tell my aunt that I wanted to go back to Kitale where my two brothers lived. She tried to hinder me and started mistreating me by beating me and giving me more work, but I insisted that I should go to Kitale, but I thank God that finally she allowed me to go to Kitale.
Life with My Elder Brother
My elder brother was living in a place called Kibagenge, the place where my mother had bought a piece of land before she died. That was the place where we were supposed to shift from the shanties of Maili Saba but my mum could not make it. I got to the place but I found out that my brother was a good friend of alcohol. My brother by then was careless, he used to beat me up with even no reason especially when he was drunk. But I thank God for his wife who would protect me sometimes. He did not want to hear the word school, or even I want to go to school. I was treated not as a young brother but as a servant. I was always crying when I start to reflect my life and especially the skin disease I had. This irritated me so much that I could not want to get out of the house. What hurt me most was the way they treated me without even seeing the condition I was in.
In July 2003, one of my cousins took me to an herbal medicine woman to get treatments of the skin disease that I was suffering from. The woman allowed me to stay at her place for six months treating me like her grandchild until the disease that had eaten me since the days I lost my mother. That is when I started singing praises to God for his healing.
In February 2004, my elder sister sent some money to my brother so that he can take me to school, but to my surprise, my brother included the money to his budget and decided to let the illiterate boy suffer. This made me feel like I’m just alone here on earth, so I had to find my own way and means of survival. The first time I ran from home and went to Kitale town to seek help from the police from Kitale Police Station. The police did not help me so I decided to look for help in another place. It was about 8:00 pm, I was just confused in the streets of Kitale Town, but thank God a Good Samaritan came on my way. It was a taxi driver who had just finished his job. I told him my situation and he took me to his home that night so that I can spend the night there and go back home the following morning. In the morning, I just decided to go back home even though I knew I was going to suffer. As I reached home, I found my brother drunk sitting under a tree in front of the door. I passed courageously and entered the house. His wife came and asked me where I had gone all the night but I did not answer her any word. My brother came and closed the door and started beating me ruthlessly. His wife tried to stop him but it was like her words were falling on a deaf ear.
Out of My Brother’s Sight
It was a moment that I could not endure anymore because I had decided just to go way from my brother and the rest of my family. So the next morning, I took my belongings and placed them at a safe place, knowing that my days were numbered in that place. I thank God because when I had finished what I was doing, my brother sent me to our neighbor who was one of the rich people in the area, to take care of his animals since his children had gone back to school. It was one month to Christmas day of 2004, the person who I was looking after his cows gave me Ksh. 1000 (1,000 Kenya Shillings) to go and buy for him animal feeds which was about Ksh. 400. When I received that money, my mind started running very fast and I just needed a slight opportunity to escape and now the opportunity come with a wide opened gate. This was the day I was waiting for, so I went at the stage (Maili Saba Stage) and boarded a matatu (private van providing mass transportation) heading to Eldoret.
When I reached in Eldoret, it was about 6:00pm, without wasting anytime, something rang into my mind that I should travel to Nairobi where I had never travelled before. I quickly boarded a bus that was leaving that night and I went to sit at the back seat to avoid suspicion because I was too dirty.
Life in Nairobi
As we were nearing Nairobi, I saw a lot of lights on the roadside at a distance that made me think of my future, and it really lifted my spirit. The bus stopped at the stage around 4:00 am and I stayed in the bus until 6:00 am when I started looking for a place for help in the streets. Everybody was busy in the streets and nobody could want to hear from one another unless they knew each other.
I was meandering in the streets of Nairobi like a lost sheep in the forest. At least I had Ksh. 300 remaining to cater for my stomach. The first day I slept in the dustbin tank but on the following day, I could not endure the situation, so I took myself to Buruburu Police Station to seek for help. At the police station, the police interviewed me and decided to help me to get back again to our home in Kitale the place where I never wanted to go.
The Buruburu Police Officer referred me to The Children Care Unit in the Lower Kabete region of Nairobi where I stayed waiting to be taken home after one month. After one month, The Children Care Unit referred me to one of its branches in Nakuru so that they could have ample time taking me home. One of the police women officers at the place decided to pay for my bus fare after I had stayed there for two weeks. She strongly told the bus driver that he should take good care of me until I reached Kitale. I did not want to hear about going back to my brother’s place again, so I started thinking of a way to escape.
Life in Eldoret Streets
When the bus stopped at the stage in Eldoret, the bus driver went out, and I quickly followed him to find my way of escape because I thought he could hinder me from stopping in Eldoret. It was around February 2005, I was just walking in the streets of Eldoret town not knowing where to go or what to eat. The first day came to an end just being alone without a visible friend in my sight. I knew Jesus was with me because I was healthy and strong physically. On the second day, I met a friend called Jacob Mwema who we shared our testimonies together and decided to live and walk together. The next morning he introduced me to his brother Isaac Mwema. We lived together for three days just eating disposed foodstuff and praying to God. At least by that time I knew who God was and I had to thank him.
The Point of My Rescue
In one morning, one of the street boys came and told us there was a wedding (it was really a feeding program in progress) at the Spiritual Life Center (Bishop Ben Bahati’s church). Jacob said that he will go but Isaac said no. Jacob went and found an encouraging message that some of the street boys are being taken to a mzungu’s (white man’s) home for help. He came back to town running. He found me lying on the grass because of hunger. When I heard the message, my spirit was lifted from its painful zone. We looked for Isaac and ran quickly to the church. We were three of us, we found Pastor Dan Just Sabwa, Pastor Hillary Ingosi, Wilfred Andabwa and the late Aunty Gorreti. We were asked questions and we answered in full details. As we were still in the church area, we saw a mzungu (Daddy Alan) driving a surf- a four wheeled drive car KAP coming to the church. After a few minutes he left again after making a conversation with Pastor Hillary.
That was the day I saw God start showing me how the world is good to those who know him. We were taken to the Haven Children’s Home in one of the coolest estates called Elgon view. The compound was just wow! Everything was just cool and fine. Our life changed immediately. Daddy Alan and mum Pam came the next day to see how we were going on. I could now wear new clothes; new shoes, eat good food and even sleep in my comfort bed.
Allan as a student
It’s God’s favor through Daddy Alan that I got to school. I did not know how to read and write but I was admitted in the 2nd grade at Kapsoya Primary School. I worked extra hard until I knew how to read and write. I was in 3rd grade, I transferred to Sosiani Primary School where I joined the 5th grade in the year 2006 because the teacher said I was thinking more than a 3rd grade pupil. I did my best in Sosiani Primary School from 2006-2008 when we shifted to Jua Kali village as a home. When in Jua Kali village, I joined Cheramei Primary School, where I studied until I did my national exam (Kenya Certificate of Primary Education) where I managed to score 339 marks out of 500. Because it was above average, I was privileged to join high school in 2010, which is Vihiga Boys High School (a boarding school).
Now I only have two years to finish high school. I’m in a good school and I thank God for the far he has brought me. Currently I’m the student leader in charge of cleanliness in school.
To all my friends, sponsors, aunties, uncles, teachers, parents, Daddy Alan and mum Pam, Bishop Ben Bahati, all the staff members of our ministry, may God bless you so much. Daddy Alan, thanks for caring together with mum Pam. May God show you great visions. I know I have not yet made it but I’m going for it. May God take control over everything! - Allan May Oluoch
