Jesus in Disguise

The only thing I could see was his smile shining white in the darkness because his skin was as black as the night. "Bombakebe? Is that you?" I peeked through the slits in the window panes and saw his floating smile beaming back at me. He sometimes sleeps under the hangar next door, but I guess he took the liberty to open our gate and come inside to watch us through the kitchen window. We were preparing our dinner right in front of him, and I knew he probably hadn't eaten all day. "What would you like to eat?" Suzanne asked him. Knowing he wouldn't like our American dish, we sent our guard out for a big bowl of rice and sauce just for Bombakebe. 

He's been around a lot lately, which is good because we can keep an eye on him and it keeps him off the streets where he has a tendency to steal and get into trouble with stuff like that. He sometimes sleeps next door. He comes to was his clothes. He comes to pet the dogs. He has a trunk that he keeps all his stuff inside. He showed everything inside it to me the other day - about four pairs of pants, maybe five shirts, a pair of yellow sandals, a bar of soap, toothpaste, and some lotion from Bath and Body Works that I gave him. It's called sunset breeze or something ridiculously girly like that, but he doesn't care. You should have seen his smile when I gave it to him and how proud he was to show it to me again in his box. That trunk is like a treasure box to him. 

When you meet a kid like Bombakebe - nine years old, living on the streets, no family to actually care for him, unable to go to school - you want to do something to help. 

First, you want to buy him everything he needs. We tried that, but then all the other street kids just stole it from him. For example, just the other day he was carrying some clean clothes when some other kids started chasing him to steal them. Seeing a well nearby, he thought fast and threw his clothes in the well, thinking that at least the kids couldn't get them that way. When he went back later to fish out his clothes, they had sunk. 

The next thing you want to do is send him to school. But the reality is that he wouldn't last a day in a normal school setting. It's not his fault, it's just that he's never been taught how to behave, and he doesn't know how to interact in a group setting. He needs special one-on-one attention, but Burkina has no special education to offer. All he knows is street smarts, and so that's where he lives and learns.

So you try to get him into a trade school of some kind. Maybe an apprenticeship or something like that. Well, those don't start until a child is at least twelve. Even then, they have to have some kind of reading, writing, and French skills - of which Bombakebe has none. 

So the next thing you want to do is get him back into his family. Except he doesn't want to go back because his father doesn't feed him. And dad doesn't feed him because the kid won't help in the fields. And the kids won't help in the fields because he doesn't respect a father who won't feed him. How do you stop the cycle? 

So then you want to get social services involved, except you realize they care about him just about as much as everyone else does - not at all. They've seen cases like his before, and there's nothing to be done. You can't change a street kid, they say. That's how his brother was and that's how he will be, too. Even if they did want to help, social services here in Burkina has zero funding to actually make it happen. 

You want to help a sweet kid like Bombakebe, but it gets real complicated real quick. 

It also gets into that whole "when helping hurts" thing. By giving Bombakebe a place to sleep, are we disconnecting him from his family? By feeding him a hot meal at night, are we condoning his street-wandering behaviors? We desire to do something sustainable. That's such a hot word in missions right now - sustainability. But sometimes I wonder if we forfeit obedience to the greatest command for the sake of sustainability. 

I wonder what Jesus would do if he were here. I wonder if he would give hungry Bombakebe a hot meal and put some shoes on his dirty feet. People might say, "Don't you know that's not sustainable, Jesus?" And I wonder if he would respond like he once did to the Pharisees and say, "Why do you break the commands for the sake of your tradition? The greatest command is to love God and to love your neighbors. A true fast is one that feeds the hungry and clothes the naked (Isaiah 58). Whatever you do for the least of these, you do for me." These are only my thoughts, my wonderings. 

The other day I saw Bombakebe sitting on a wood pile and I went to sit down beside him. "You're a good boy, Bombakebe. You know that, right? That whole stealing thing that you did the other day wasn't right, and I don't want to see you do that ever again, but I still believe you are good boy in your heart." I playfully poked his side and he shyly looked at me. "God loves you, and so do we. He has a big plan for your future." I wondered if he has ever heard those words before. He looked as if he didn't believe me, but I'm gonna keep telling him until he starts to. 

So we went to the market Sunday and bought Bombakebe a bunch of new clothes, shoes, a blanket, and a towel. At the end of our shopping spree, he asked for some "gateaux" fried cakes, and I gave in just like my mom used to give in and buy me an Annie Anne's pretzel when I behaved at the mall. I handed the lady two silver coins and handed the bag of gateaux to Bombakebe. "You have to share one with me!" I said, and we enjoyed every single bite. 

We still don't know what to do about Bombakebe. But in the meantime, we are going to keep buying him clothes when his get stolen, and we'll keep feeding him so he doesn't have to go hungry for too long. We do this because we believe Jesus would, and we'll keep praying for God to make clear how we can best help him - maybe something sustainable. Until then, let's do what we can to help those in front of us, affirming in them that they are loved and valued. You never know, they might be Jesus in disguise.