(Sam) 50 precious lives!

Last week we finally had the most immense privilege of visiting all the girls in their homes, to deliver their personal invite to the project. We finished the last few yesterday and are filled with such a sense of joy and anticipation.

On arriving back from the visits (we had been through so many houses in such a short space of time), my mind was a flood of images...

each girl is so unique and beautiful, and in every hardened or downcast expression we could see the creases of a reluctant but irrepressible smile breaking through when they heard that they had been 'chosen' to be part of the project. It was such a privilege to be there at that moment, to be sharing the news that there is an opportunity for something different, an alternative for the future.

There were quite a few girls who Rita had so wanted to invite before it was too late, but who we now realised were already pregnant. One beautiful but very tough young girl was playing football in the street when we called her. She came over with a really hard and mistrusting face but then produced the most amazing smile when she thought of the idea of being part of the project, having her hair done, learning guitar...Even though she already has a baby (who is fortunately being looked after by family), she's only 13 and she really needs this chance that Meninadança will offer her, to be a child again herself.

The invites were absolutely perfect even for the older, tougher girls. Their eyes widened and cheeks softened as the pink girly picture with their name on the front inspired the beginnings of a belief that they may in fact be worth something....wow...hope is the most beautiful concept and this week we saw tangible glimpses of it in the most unlikely, seemingly impossible situations.

At one point, as we walked out of yet another house with Rita, we realised that we were all grinning from ear to ear! and just couldn't stop smiling and laughing...Rita had been so frustrated because in the face of such need we had to limit the number of girls to 50; but today she said that it had suddenly hit her in a different way when chatting with a friend that we were going to be involved in the lives of Fifty young women and girls and their families, speaking of hope and transformation to those who most desperately need it. Seeing the difference that some conversations have already made in how the girls look ahead, we believe that God really is going to bring that transformation here in Medina.

(Sam) Budding photographers!

It's been great having Vicki, a teacher from the UK, volunteering with us during this set-up phase. One of her passions is photography and so this Sunday we met up with two of the girls to give them an introductory lesson! Vicki showed them the basics and then we wandered through the countryside outside the town with the two girls pointing and shooting as they went!

One of Vicki’s aims was for them to see their town through different eyes, since both of them have seriously considered leaving for various reasons. It was amazing by the end of our walk to hear them actually noticing the beauty around them, and realising that there is life here outside of what they have experienced so far. It's so good for them to know that there is another perspective on the same reality, one which is so much more filled with life and hope.

One funny moment was when one of the girls looked at the ground and screamed, and out of fear I ran and jumped into the air, landing straight onto the thing they’d been screaming about – a big hairy tarantula! It didn’t bite me, but it was huge! We filmed one later and then a woman came and beat it to death with a stick…it’s not just us who don’t like them!

Medina!

A couple of weeks ago we climbed one of the hills around the town with two friends, and sat at the top for so long with the hot wind in our faces, not quite believing that this is where we have landed! We're so so thankful for being in this beautiful place.

I may have convinced Claire that it was only a 15 minute walk to the top! haha...she was not too pleased an hour and 15 minutes later when we got to the top with no water around for miles! But the beautiful sunset was definitely worth it. 

(Claire) Cry, The Beloved Country

Last night my heart broke as I read this paragraph in Alan Paton’s Cry, The Beloved Country. He paints a devastating picture of what can happen when oppression has ruled a people, and how from that point on fear robs you of the ability to hope. Though he’s writing about South Africa, I was struck by how many of the girls here in Medina experience this same isolation, and could relate to these painful words:

“Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply. Let him not laugh too gladly when the water runs through his fingers, nor stand too silent when the setting sun makes red the veld with fire. Let him not be too moved when the birds of his land are singing, nor give too much of his heart to a mountain or a valley. For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much.”

With their stories of abuse, violence, rejection and exploitation there are really only two ways to go: to die, or to choose never again to hope, to love, to dream, to believe – close up their hearts to all that surrounds them, hold it in their hands and run, far away. Smile, but not in their eyes, laugh, but not from their hearts. Nothing can hurt them any more, but behind the smiles are hurting eyes, wondering if anyone really ‘sees’ their pain.

Every moment with these girls is an incredible privilege. My prayer is that over time, I imagine years rather than months, there will be no need to hide, no need to run away. That through a process of being loved for who they are, every girl would feel safe to hope, to be free again to open her heart to the beauty of the world around her, and to believe that there is a reason to dance. I pray that the devastation of Paton’s words would be transformed for the girls into something like this:

“Dance, beloved daughters, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of your hope. Let her love the  earth deeply. Let her laugh gladly when the water runs through her fingers, stand silent when the sun makes red the veld with fire. Let her be moved when the birds of her land are singing, and give her heart to the mountain and the valley. For fear will not rob her if she gives of her heart.”