Several months ago, the world calendar of the Adventist church featured a “World Day of Prayer for Children at Risk.” As director of children’s ministries for the Natitingou Church, it was my privilege to organize a special program and sermon for that Sabbath.
When I started my research on the topic of children at risk, it dawned on me that most of the children in our area, and even in the church itself, fit into this category. Poverty, insufficient medical care and education, neglect, physical violence, sexual harassment of female teenagers—all this is daily reality for most of the children we know. How much of it do we put up with as simply part of living in a developing country, and how much of it are we called to fight against?
I was curious how my brothers and sisters in church would respond to the program I prepared and presented with the help of some children. Some of the scenarios were so common that people had to laugh. I don’t know how much we were able to raise awareness, and how much was just brushed aside as the silly sensitivities of Yovos (white people), but we had a blessed prayer time for children at risk, and I’m sure the topic will come up again.
How do we deal with the overwhelming needs of the children around us? We obviously can’t feed, treat and protect them all, and usually it is not wise to take over responsibility that should belong to parents. However, as individual cases allow and as the Holy Spirit leads us, we try to alleviate the hardships of those close to us.
On several occasions we have intervened when children were physically abused in our neighborhood. One night we went out at 11 p.m. to save a little girl from her mother’s whip. Actually, the mother thanked us afterwards. She realized she had been acting out of exhaustion and frustration, and later she was glad we had prevented her from doing harm. We have warned other parents we would call social services or the police if they didn’t stop hurting their children.
One time we were too late. At a new home in our neighborhood, the father, a high school teacher, hit his seven-year-old boy so hard that he lost consciousness. They rushed him to the hospital, but it was too late. We learned about it several hours later, when some kids told us the body of the child was still at the house, surrounded by wailing family and friends. Wondering if anybody had informed the police, we made some phone calls. Sure enough, the police had not heard about it yet. They acted immediately and arrested the father. Later we learned that all the man’s surrounding neighbors were well informed about his abusive practices. Someone had talked to the chief of the quarter about it, but he had replied: “They are his children. If he wants to kill them, that’s his business.” This is the general attitude here. Children are considered the property of the father. The law does protect children and women against abuse, but authorities can only react if they are informed, and usually people just keep their mouths shut. We don’t, and we have paid the social price.
Over the past few years, God has continually directed us toward children and youth ministry, and we will expand this ministry once our current task of church planting with the Otammari Project is complete. Until then, our home will continue to be a safe place for neighborhood kids to study, play and just be kids. We will keep getting up at night to rescue abused children if necessary. We will continue to counsel parents about better methods for discipline. We will feed and shelter and care for children when necessary and appropriate. And we will continue to pray for the at-risk children in our neighborhood. Will you pray with us?
