In April 1994, while I was still living in my home country of Kenya, I gave birth to my third son, Moses.

Kenya is one of the best countries in Africa, with very little crime and known as a safe place to live. Our home was located in Thika, an industrial town. There were many industries which surrounded us, the biggest one being Delmonte, the producer of canned pineapples. This fruit was also grown by Delmonte in the area, giving our town the moniker of ‘Pineapple Town’. Because of the abundance of industry, the population was quite high where I lived. Many of the employees were paid very poorly so some of them lived in very tight accommodations, sharing small rooms with many other people.

My husband and I both had fairly good paying jobs so we had a nice home, located on the outskirts of town and very close to nature. The beauty of the African landscape was often dotted by tall, gangly giraffes and wild monkeys hanging from branches of the trees. We had many differing types of trees in the area, acacia, moringa, avocado and mango.

Although we didn’t have any of these types of trees in our yard, one of our neighbors did have avocado trees. We had children the same age so we were able to enjoy their harvest of avocados. The boys enjoyed climbing the trees while playing outside. Kenya was blessed with many kinds of fruit trees and therefore children didn’t eat as much candy but enjoyed fruit instead.

At the time my son was born, by the decree of the Kenyan government, mothers were only allowed three months maternity leave. Plus, making it financially for us as a family was difficult on one wage, so I had no choice but to find someone to watch my newborn. Well before Moses turned three months old, I began to search for a suitable caregiver for him. The standard was to hire a young girl between fourteen and twenty years old. These girls would normally come from very poor families who could not afford to put their daughters in school.

Finding one of these girls, a Nanny for my baby, came through asking my friends, relatives and co-workers. Back then we had no technology to research caregivers or find out their ratings, whether they were qualified or not. I heard about a fifteen-year-old girl who someone told me was responsible and reliable. Before hiring her, I contacted the parents and we arranged an in-person meeting. They lived in a different town, Muranga, which was quite a distance from us. I took a bus to their town to meet with this family. The young girl, her parents and I were all part of the interview. I asked the girl many questions to see what she knew about taking care of a baby and fully explained my expectations. When I was comfortable with her answers and felt confident in her abilities, I hired her.

I arranged for her to come to my home a week before I started back to work. In this way I could watch how she interacted with Moses and how she managed with the caregiver role. After observing her for a week, I felt confident that my baby was in good hands.

When I had to leave Moses that first day, my emotions were all over the place. Leaving him was so hard but I was grateful that God had provided a responsible girl to care for him. My job was with the Kenyan government, in the Municipality where I lived, correcting revenue.

Each morning I would kiss my little boy goodbye, walk a few blocks to the bus stop and board. Some days the ride took only thirty minutes but other days it could take as long as an hour, depending on traffic.

While I was out of the house each work day, from seven-thirty until five in the afternoon, my mind drifted to my baby often. I wondered how he was doing and how this young girl was managing. Keeping my mind on my job was difficult at first.

My other two boys were both in school during the day so the Nanny was only left with Moses at home from Monday to Friday. This girl went above and beyond her duty of taking care of Moses. She stayed very active, doing the laundry and other chores around the house. Back then we washed our clothes by hand so laundry day was a huge undertaking. Nothing seemed to intimidate this girl, she was a hard worker and I felt doubly blessed in finding her.

Over the months which followed, I grew more accustomed to leaving Moses and spending my days without him. Work quickly became part of my new normal once again and I looked forward, at the end of each day, to be reunited with my baby and hold him close.

In November of 1994, when my son was about six months old and after my house girl had lived with me for three months, I arrived home as usual. Strangely, my house was locked. Fear immediately invaded. The house was never locked when I arrived home. Finding my key in my bag, I unlocked the front door and walked inside, but no familiar noises greeted me, no happy baby sounds, no infant cries or giggles, no noises at all. My home seemed eerily quiet and it unnerved me. I rushed through the house looking for Moses and the girl but I couldn’t find them anywhere. I searched outside on the yard but they were not there either.

Growing a little frantic, I tried to think of where they could have gone. Memories began to filter in, conversations I had had with the caregiver. I could recall a few times where she’d hinted at leaving when she would grow tired of the job. She had mentioned other girls doing this, leaving the babies they were hired to watch, abandoning them, getting on a bus and going back home to their families.

One time, she told me very bluntly, “When I’m tired of working for you I will take Moses with me to my mom’s house.”

I never really took her seriously. I knew she loved Moses, could see it as she cuddled him, smiled sweetly at him, took care of him. I never took her ramblings to heart. I assumed she was just making small talk, telling me about other girls, irresponsible ones. Never once did I suspect she’d go through with it.

Could she have left and taken Moses with her? And where was she exactly? Had she gone back home to her parents? I had no way to contact them. We had no phone and neither did they.

Feeling more anxious and troubled by the minute, I made the decision to travel to their house immediately. I desperately wanted my baby back and I prayed frantic prayers to God, begging him to protect my son. I rushed outside to the bus stop but quickly discovered that there were no more scheduled buses leaving for the day. There were no taxis in service either at that time of day. Devastation crowded around my heart and I cried out to God for help.

How could I go a day without my son? And would I find him safe when I did reach their home? There were so many unknowns and fear knocked on my heart. That night I didn’t sleep a wink but cried and wailed as I waited for the sun to rise. My night was filled with restless, anxious thoughts and my arms ached for my baby. I cried and prayed, prayed and cried but peace was hard to find.

The following morning, as the sun rose, a bright orange glow washed the landscape with hope. I struggled to absorb the positivity the bright day promised. Eagerly, I left the house as soon as the buses were in business and immediately boarded one into the town bus terminal. From there I needed to transfer to a different bus that would take me to Muranga, the town this family lived in. In total I traveled for an hour to reach my destination, every minute filled with desperate cries and prayers to the only one who could keep my son safe.

When I reached their home, I knocked on the door and the mother answered and immediately let me in. She looked apologetic as she pointed me toward my son. The young girl was holding him and still taking good care of Moses. I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of my precious boy.

I was honestly surprised at how well she was taking care of Moses. He seemed happy and content. She held him gently and was entertaining him. Standing before her, I questioned her about why she had taken my son and left my home.

She responded by saying, “I’m sorry I took him but I was tired of working. I missed my family. Remember, I told you that when I get tired of being a Nanny I would take Moses with me and go back home. I promised that I would still take care of him and I did. I love Moses very much.” Setting him down on the floor, she left the room.

I went over to my son, picked him up, held him close, breathing in his sweet baby scent and kissed his chubby cheek. My mother’s heart heaved in relief and gratitude as I thanked God for taking care of my baby boy. I had my son back! Surprisingly, I didn’t feel angry at my house girl, just overwhelmed with relief that she had taken care of him.

Talking to the mother of the fifteen-year-old girl, she told me that she had been making preparations to bring my baby back to me. My early morning trip cancelled the need for her to travel my way. Although they were a very poor family, they had good hearts.

By the Grace of God I found my son in perfect condition and exactly where I had hoped he would be, safe with this family. This was not luck. God protected my baby, the way he always protects us each day. I am so thankful for God’s divine intervention in this situation.

Thankfully, after that, I was able to find a dependable Nanny to take care of Moses for me. She was seventeen years old and stayed with us for three years, until we left Kenya and moved to Canada.

God not only answered my prayers of protection for my youngest son, but he also provided a reliable and steady Nanny for him. God is so good!

 

Teresia Mungai

 

*****

 

Once we get to Heaven and God shows us a reel of our life, we will discover how many times we were rescued, protected or redirected by supernatural means. What a divine privilege it is that, during our time on earth, God gives us snapshots into the supernatural realm, unusual happenings that announce that Heaven is present and involved in our lives.

For he will command his angels concerning you
    to guard you in all your ways.

Psalm 91:11

If you would like to share a personal story of supernatural protection or angelic activity in your history, please reach out. Private message me on Facebook messenger and I will explain the details. I would love to share your testimony through my newsletter mailout and, if you are willing, on my blog as an encouragement to others. As it says in Hebrews 3:13, “Encourage one another daily, as long as it is called ‘Today’”. 

Also, you are welcome to share this story with your friends and family, or with anyone who needs some encouragement.