Evil in their Hearts. Hate in their Eyes.

As we drove onto the adjoining property of Fountain of Life Church and Children’s Home, we felt a weight upon our souls. Women wearing the full veil were walking down the dusty road. A number of men were loitering in small groups.

We exited the van and made our way through an opening in the corrugated metal fence. A gathering of Somali Muslims were present on the property, walking among the piles of rubble and dirt and taking water from a lone faucet that still stood there. Their distinct features consisted of thin body frames and elongated faces that housed hollow eyes tracking our every move, our every step.

These Somali refugees were brought up in a lawless society where daily conflict and anarchy are the norm. They don’t think of punishment or consequences. The radicalized elements within them don’t hesitate to confront. And they don’t hesitate to maim and kill. They represent the same evil that would shoot an America soldier and then tether his body to a truck in order to drag it through the streets of Mogadishu while crowds come forward to defile it.

They also represent the mob of enraged, drunken Somalis that came at night on December 19, 2006 to destroy and loot Fountain of Life. Armed with knives and other weapons, and backed up by raging bulldozers, they cast the 60 orphaned boys who called Fountain of Life home, onto the wicked streets. It was cold and raining. The boys were traumatized and scared.

On that appalling night, the mob of 50 to 100 men threatened to level the dormitories with the bulldozers while the children were sleeping. And they would have done it, hadn’t Pastor Evans quickly ushered the boys out of their comfortable beds and quiet slumber. Within minutes the bulldozers pounced upon their buildings, claiming everything under their broad plows and iron treads. The boys’ bedside trunks were smashed and rummaged through. Their toys were gone. Their Bibles were taken and discarded or burned.

The mob then led the bulldozers to other nearby Christian properties. Seven churches were destroyed that night.

The grounds of Fountain of Life were now cleared, except for the piles of dirt and the church’s floor tiles that we had purchased and seen laid on a prior trip to Nairobi. The tiles were stacked neatly in a corner in preparation for sale. All other salvageable building materials had long since been looted. Most likely, they were now part of the construction of many shanties in the nearby Mathare Valley slum, a labyrinth that holds over half a million people in poverty and squalor.

As we stood there in shock at the reality of the destruction, our film crew began to capture images of the property. This sparked confrontation. Young Somali men, and a particularly vocal Somali woman, began to yell, push down on the camera, and point to the exit. Others started to flow in through the opening in the fence. Pretty soon, a medium-sized group encircled us, all strongly gesturing for us to leave.

The cameras kept rolling.

We had hired two soldiers for the day. Dressed in full army fatigues and brandishing machine guns, they stayed close to us and interceded as certain individuals became too much of a danger.

(Image: Before the larger group of Somalis emerged)

Many of the Somalis were infuriated. One man was the chief challenger. Deep, menacing eyes were steeped in hate and anger. A long, pointed nose joined long, pointing fingers shaking with fury. He paced around, incensed of heart and eager to strike us, but prevented from doing so by the soldiers. He boiled over and charged our camera man, Britt. He lunged at the camera and attempted to rip the equipment out of Britt’s hands. Britt held on tightly.

We had been in prayer, and a sense of peace enveloped most of us. We knew that God was present and was ultimately our protector. We also knew that our days were numbered before the foundations of the earth were laid and that God, alone, holds to keys to life and death. Members of the team afterwards stated how they felt the comforting presence and shield of the Father. Of course, the presence of machine guns also helped.

As we left, Britt and I approached the leading Somali contester. Britt directed his loving eyes, tapped his heart, and offered a hand of friendship. I followed suit. The man, previously so enraged, extended his hand in response and shook his head in acceptance and understanding. You could visibly see the anger abate. Britt and I spoke afterwards of how a warm reply cools even the hottest wrath.

God was indeed with us. It could have easily gone so terribly wrong. We saw evil. We saw hate. We felt it. And it was fully directed at us. I had to remind myself later that these radical Muslims are not the enemy...they are simply victims of the enemy.

Besides capturing images that continue to tell the story of what happened to Fountain of Life, our presence served an ever greater purpose. By recording what was presently happening on the property, the clearing of the grounds and selling of materials, we can now prove that the Muslim developers are breaking the orders of a court injunction. In addition, the level of hostility we were met with will show the Kenyan High Court the characters of the men we are dealing with. The video will clearly display the hardened hearts and anger-ridden words and actions of these men.

Great purpose was therefore served by us being inserted into such an incendiary moment. God protected us and we trust that He will use it for his Glory.

...We then left to hug children and AIDS sufferers in the Somali-inhabited slums of the Mathare Valley.

Comments

[Carol]

So sad; so very sad. May God hear the prayers of so many that the Bondage Breaker will loose the cords that are so tightly wrapped around these people's hearts, minds and souls.
Thank God for the witness of a heart-felt handshake.

[Sarah]

The response that you and Brit gave seems to be exactly what Jesus would have done. Combat hatred with love.

[Cheri]

We must at all times remember who the enemy really is.