Keeping Up With Katie: CRO- Children Restoration Outreach

“Auntie Kate, would you like a lift on my boda?”

The past two Tuesdays, I’ve gone with the street kids to recreation club from 10am-1pm. We take around 80 children to a futbol field for loads of physical activity and tons of love. Last Tuesday, I played futbol with the older boys (about 7-12 years old) and showed them how us Americans play back home. At first, the boys mentioned how slow I was, but they held their tongue after I snatched the ball from their teacher and assisted in a goal! GO CRANES.

This Tuesday, I played with the younger boys and the girls. Which, I preferred more considering I wasn’t gasping for air the whole time.

As I walk around the open field surrounded by continuous questions and constant touch, my newest friend John grabs my hand and says he wants to walk with me.

Who is John you ask? John is a 10 or 12-year old boy that was born with a mental disability. In all honesty, most of the time I don’t hang out with the mentally disabled children as much as the others, only for the reason I’m an awkward person and don’t know how to talk or relate to them. But John is different. Or maybe the Holy Spirit is just really working through me. I’ve never related so much with a child from Africa like I have with John. I am so in love with this kid.

“Where should we go, Kate? Kampala? Okay, you pay me one-thousand.”

His imagination is beyond any other child’s I’ve ever met. Today, a game was laid on my heart and I decided to pursue it.

After he picked out the perfect stick from the pile of misfit sticks, he hoped on it like a witch on a broomstick. Once he started it up with a few “vroom vrooms” he was off. He started small. Just giving me lifts to “Jinja” and “Tororo” and “Namatala” or also known as the big tree, the goal post, and the man on the bicycle selling popsicles. Once that became too familiar to him, the idea of a farther distance sparked his imagination. He then began giving lifts to the other children to “Kampala” and “Nairobi” and “America” or the pile of trash across the field, the pile of sticks next to a large tree, and the middle of the futbol field.

That’s when John and I created our own little town. We started using leaves from the big tree as one thousand shillings each and handed them out to the children for boda rides. Then, we started hiring people to be policemen, street vendors, and petro stationers. Before we knew it we were catching robbers, selling chicken on a stick, and pumping fuel into John’s boda.

“Auntie Kate, my business is going so well, I want to buy you a car.”

I have never seen John so happy. Even though I’ve only hung out with him for two days, I’ve noticed the other kids taking things from him, kicking him, pushing him over, and yelling at him. But today, he was the hero. The main character. The boda man. The one everyone wanted to be with.

When we were walking home, John held firmly to my hand the entire journey. He told me he was glad I was his friend and that he won’t let anyone hurt me if they tried. He’s so smart too. Every time we passed something that grasped his attention he would tell me the word in English, then make me repeat it in Lugisu. He also was telling me about his trip to get his medicine for his disability. This boy truly trusted me and loved me. So I thought, “Katie, when was the last time this boy was ever showed love like you are showing him right now?”

Then I thought-- this is why I’m here: to not only to show love, but to spread it as well.