‘The exact number of street children is impossible to quantify, but the figure almost certainly runs into tens of millions across the world.’ This is the result when I googled ‘number of street children worldwide’
Tony; A name that has changed my life the past three weeks. I met Tony a few weeks ago at Atin Afrika, a street kid’s ministry that we have invested in since returning from Nairobi. His story is like a lot of other street kids. He was living with his dad and step-mom in the village and ran into some problems with them. They abused him, didn’t feed him, and kicked him out of the house numerous times. When I first met him he was only going to be there for a few days longer until they were taking him back to his family in the village. At Atin they provided him with a safe place to sleep and eat and do life, but that isn’t where he was supposed to live. They focus on trying to get kids off the street and back with their families, or in a better environment. I spent as much time with Tony as I could that first day, dreading the fact that I wasn’t going to be able to see him again. I said my goodbyes and wished him well, praying that he would be okay when he went back to live with his family.
The next time we showed up at Atin, he wasn’t there. In a way, I was sad but I knew that it was okay because he was back with his family which was good. I spent my time with another boy there, and focused my energy on him.
This past Saturday when we had arrived at Atin, I was greeted by a lovely face. Tony. Oh my goodness. Why was he back? This isn’t where he was supposed to be. He was supposed to be back at home, with his family. It made me worried. My mother instinct kicked into high gear. (someone messed with my lovebug and I was going to find out who it was!) His family was being abusive again to him, and so he ran away and came back to Atin. Oh, how that broke my heart. I spent the entire afternoon with him, hugging him and just being around him, holding his hand. He doesn’t speak much and our language barriers don’t allow for much conversation but a smile can say a lot more than words.
We went to Atin Tuesday and I had gone out to do a street visit with a few of the workers. Tony wasn’t there when we left but when we returned he was there, standing off to the side, shaking and not saying anything. Dennis told me that he wasn’t going to ask him what all was going on right then because he might have been scared so he waited for a bit. It could only mean one thing, he ran away from home again.
I’m not sure when the next time I’ll see Tony is, but I do know that whenever he is around I can show him love in whatever way possible.
the three times i've seen Tony <3
