Around 1 a.m. the other night, fear shot through my chest. Cries that thankfully turned out to be neighborhood dogs reminded me of a moment that will always stay with me.
A few years ago at about the same time of night, loud cries came through our bedroom window. And I knew right away the cries came from our Mamas at Amani. Fearing the worst, Surj and I jumped out of bed – shaking and wondering what had happened that had brought the shouts and cries of the Mamas down the road into our bedroom. It was such a relief to find everyone safe and sound. Thieves ran through the baby home, grabbed a few cell phones and fled. But little did we know how their act of thievery would forever change our lives.
In Uganda, our lifestyle is very different than the place we used to call home. In ways that some may never think about. Roads full of pot holes, loss of power at times, street kids, poverty, and pit latrines are realities that you may not initially expect, but in retrospect they make sense. What surprised me the most on my first trip to Uganda twelve years ago was that there were men hired to assist in specific areas of the home. For a typical home in Uganda, there’s a man designated to open the gate of your compound. A compound that normally has a tall wall around it with a large metal gate, locked from the inside. He also is there to guard your home. He’s called an “Ascari.” There’s also a man to slash your grass which he does with a long piece of metal slightly bent and sharpened at the end. And he swings the slasher back and forth cutting as much length of the grass as he can. He also cares for the garden. He’s called a “Shamba.” Then you have help in your house, these men or woman help you with the cleaning, washing, shopping, cooking and mopping which is normally done with cloths, bent at the waist, bottom in the air and to entertain your children when you are working on the computer (although at the moment it sounds like the kids are entertaining them). He or she is called a “House Girl or Boy.” Your home is a place of employment to three, four or even five people. It is the normal way of life here whether you are an Ugandan or a westerner. And even normal for Mrs. Proverbs 31 – and also as mentioned in verse 15. Not sure how we have missed this in our culture. At first it is awkward to have these people in your home doing things that you are sure you should be doing yourself. Then a day comes and you realize you have not only gotten used to it, but you even like it. And you rely on them more than you ever dreamed you would have.
I have been blessed over the years to have had faithful women in my home and an Ascari who has been with my family for nine years. Our Ascari was with the girls and I before Amani started, and then he decided to come with us when we began Amani. And then he even stayed with the home when I married and moved out of Amani. He’s stopped thieves a few times when they tried to cut our fence or chased them out when they entered the compound.
Over the years we had had only a time or two of petty thievery. Amani is busy 24 hours a day and most of the time someone is moving around. On his day off we locked the gate and had never worried. Burglaries had picked up in our area more than usual. We had moved the volunteers to live upstairs above the babies home, which had been mine and the girls home for years before I was married. We had always felt safe in that location. After the specific night of thieves running through the baby home, we decided to hire a security company to work alongside our private guard. A security company sends a guard every night who carries a rifle. We made the decision to further security. A decision we thought would help protect the babies, Mamas and volunteers. But we’re wrong in our thinking.
After about a year of having added security, we found out the first man they sent to us – who was there for a few months before they moved him to another town – had sexually abused some of our boys. I will never forget the place I was standing when I received that phone call, telling me what had happened. And I will never forget how I felt at that moment. I now understood what people mean when they say, “It felt like being hit by a Mack truck.”
This was not like anything that we had been through in the past. We’ve lost three babies in less than two weeks and even learned while we were are at the grave sight for yet another burial that the premature boy we had buried the week before had been dug up for his body parts to be used for witch craft. We had two young missionary friends in less than 48 hours in our town pass away from malaria and a truck accident. All devastating and tragic events, but completely out of our control. But this experience was different. This was something that we should have been able to prevent, but somehow we had failed our children. I know that parents that have been through this understand. The overwhelming feeling of shock, grief, anger, frustration and betrayal, hitting you all at once.
Pure evil had invaded our home. Our place of peace.
Thankfully, Amani has Godly leadership who have wisdom and compassion for our children. I’m grateful to have a husband who has respect with the local police and discernment in dealing with situations where the law is concerned. It took a month of dealing with local police, the security company and detectives to find and arrest the perpetrator. I’m also grateful to work with a board that took an active role in helping in any way they possibly could during this crisis, including counseling praying and mediating. My Dad and Mom who also are the executive directors of Amani brought me up grounded in God’s Word to know I could trust Him in any and all circumstances. Family members and friends that the children love and trust to be there to work with them during this time. And prayers coming from all over the world.
Amani grew up a lot from this one act. We would love to be able to undo it but we can’t. What we chose to do though was to change, learn, and grow stronger. Ignorance is one thing but stupidity is not excusable when caring for children. This situation made us wiser and demand a higher level of excellence from ourselves. We learned that – though we had had peace while the river was calm – we also could have peace in the rushing waters. When rafting the Nile River level five rapids and you have been thrown from the raft, the crushing waves not allowing you to know which way is up, you remember the voice of your guide saying, “If you fall out this time, you will be down longer than all the rapids you have come through. But remember you will come up by your life jacket.” You can‘t save yourself – it‘s all up to your jacket. This particular set of rapids I am talking about is called “The Bad Place” yet you believe him even though you are more than terrified while submersed under the water. You believe him because all day he has spoken truth to you and you have learned to completely trust this man that you met only a few hours ago.
How can we not trust the One who has proven Himself over and over in His word, in our life and ministry through the years? Going through Level Five rapids with the Lord, trusting Him even when we don’t understand, clinging to His promises to pull us up for air when are struggling… There may be a Level Five crises in a bad place, but we choose to be in a place of peace.
We are so very thankful to all of you who have supported us over the years in many ways. Through prayer, love, time, finances, laughter and tears. You are part of the Amani family, family to 260 babies that have come through our doors, and family to our Mamas who are able to care for their families from salaries they receive because of your donations. There’s been children held and loved in so many arms from so many volunteers over the years. I wanted to share our growth with you… our extended family. You have made it possible to give these children a place of peace that they can call home. We are humbled by your trust in us. Blessed by your support over these last eight years. Please continue to keep us – your extended family – in your prayers.
Mama Danyne
