By Juli McGowan Boit | Published: September 4, 2013
Emily Cheptum
1991 – 2007
There are moments when it is so clear that things are not as they were meant to be. I had a few of those moments the week I met Emily Cheptum. I had been asked to visit the home of a young girl with uncontrolled Type I Diabetes. She had been seen in a nearby clinic, but the physician was concerned about her home situation and whether she was getting food and the insulin she needed. For a year, Emily had been blind and completely dependent upon others for her care. Her grandmother had been her primary caretaker, as both of her parents struggled with alcoholism, but she had recently passed away. After a forty-five minute drive on bumpy roads, our home-based care team, Tumaini na Afya (“Hope and Health”), arrived to Emily’s home.
Upon arriving, I immediately heard a cry of brokenness coming from the home. It was Emily. She was alone, in great pain, and broken-hearted. Though we had never met before, she began to share her burdens; she was hungry and felt helpless. She said, “If only I could see, I could go and look for food.” In my spirit, I believe that God had our team arrive at that very moment, to allow us to hear the cries of His child – the cries that up to that point in time, He alone had heard. The cries that had broken His heart.
Curious neighbors filled the home, and I saw a twenty year-old mentally disabled girl crawling on the floor. She was child-like, unable to speak or control her body movements, but she was precious. Emily explained that this girl was her sister and that the little boy standing beside her, who was wearing only a ragged t-shirt, was her sister’s child. I felt my jaw drop as anger and disgust filled me. About this time, Emily’s mother came into the house. She looked tired, deeply burdened. She lifted the little boy and put him to the breast of his mother, who was not able to hold the baby herself.
We immediately began to pray. There was so much darkness; the family was entangled in poverty, disease, alcoholism, and hunger. Deeply moved by the images we had just seen and the sound of Emily’s cries – convinced that we had to intervene but unsure of how to best respond, we decided to bring Emily home with us. She needed to be fed, treated and loved. Although the situation felt beyond repair, we believed that God would break through the darkness. It was in this season of prayer and in caring for Emily that we further recognized the need for a place of refuge for individuals like Emily; the dream of the Living Room was being birthed in our hearts.
Every evening, Emily would walk to the nearby children’s home to sing and pray with the kids. She loved them and was loved by them in return. Within weeks of arriving to Kipkarren, her blood sugars became well-controlled. After several months of intense care, including a regimented diet, Emily became well enough to have the cataracts removed from her eyes. Emily, who once was blind, now could see.
Though the situation at Emily’s home remained difficult, she became well enough to return to her community and to her family. Our home-based cared team continued to monitor her progress, where she thrived for a couple of years. Sadly, without warning, Emily went into a diabetic coma and died on December 27, 2007. Our hearts ached at the loss of our friend, but we all knew that caring for her had mattered greatly.
Emily is worth running for
Emily Cheptum is pictured above (in blue) worshipping with children from ELI Children’s Home
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