By Sean Sprague

Benjamin Yoki was born in northern Kenya in the arid expanse known as Turkana. Here, unpredictable cycles of drought and rain form part of the deadly climate cycle of the Horn of Africa. In desperation, pastoralist tribes like the Turkana that inhabit this region sometimes raid each other's cattle to survive. Benjamin's own family lost their cows in this way, and thus lost their livelihood. As the hunger became overwhelming, Benjamin, 10 years old and dressed in rags, made a journey that many Turkana must make. He hitched a ride on the back of a truck for six hours to Kitale.

At 7,000 feet, green with fertile soil, Kitale is a world away from the northern deserts of Turkana. Landless and penniless, destitute Turkana migrate here, leaving their families and homes behind to settle the shantytowns of Kitale in the hopes of avoiding starvation. In a slum on the edge of town, Benjamin found an impoverished aunt to stay with, and began begging for food on the streets.

The odds of Benjamin's survival were poor. Due to years of hunger, disease, violence, abuse and even glue sniffing, the average lifespan of a street child in Kenya is 16 years. Instead, a social worker for the Saint John Bosco Rehabilitation Centre found Benjamin begging and offered him help. At the Centre, named for the patron saint of youth, Benjamin received food, training, medical attention and security. He did so well over the years that the Bosco Centre helped put him through the Kenya Medical Training College.

Benjamin's is just one of many miraculous stories coming out of the Centre, which was started by Irish Kiltegan Fathers in 1992. The Centre, a campus of several one-story buildings set on long lawns shaded by trees, has become nothing short of salvation for countless orphans and street children. For the last six years, Seattle-born Maryknoll Lay Missioner Russell Brine has been running the Centre. Brine, who has served in Kenya for the past 11 years, also coordinates the Maryknoll Lay Missioners' regional chapter in Kenya; thus, the Centre receives support from other lay missioners serving nearby.

Of the 200 children currently at the Centre, two-thirds are Turkana. Brine explains why: "For many years, during times of drought, the Turkana have come. But when they get here, they're extremely disadvantaged. They come here with nothing. They don't speak the national language, they don't have the skills to find a job in town. And they're living in these, basically, slum camps that the government has set aside for them." Unable to feed themselves, let alone put their children through school, these families often have kids begging on the streets.

This is where the modern-day Saint John Boscos come in. The Centre's 12 staff members—including local teachers and social workers—find the most desperate children living in poverty. Priority is given to the poorest cases. Social workers then investigate the child's situation and locate some relative—be it an uncle, grandmother or older sibling—willing to maintain contact with the child. Since their ultimate goal is to help these children become self-reliant, it's critically important that the child preserve a community connection, "that network that you need in, basically, a survival situation," explains Brine. So Centre staff find a guardian for the child to stay with on the weekends. "That's true even if they're orphans," says Brine, "and many, many of our children are orphans."

For the next one to two years, the Centre then prepares them to enter the formal school system; as Brine explains, "We can't take them off the streets and put them in school. First they need to learn things." This is done through a life-skills formation program. "Our non-formal classes are very small, no more than 10 children," Brine says. "That way they get a lot of individual attention." Here the young students-in-training learn how to relate to teachers and fellow students, the rules of basic hygiene, an introduction to the "3 Rs," are healed of the emotional wounds suffered on the streets and get medical attention for illnesses, predominantly malaria, hiv and tuberculosis.

Once they're ready, the Centre helps the children enroll in local schools and continues assisting them—financially and emotionally—through secondary school and even college. In a country where only 25 percent of children make it to secondary school, the ratio at the Bosco Centre is closer to 100 percent.

As Brine explains, the Bosco family's "ultimate goal for these children is that they become self-reliant, and we will take them as far as they can go." For those who prefer a trade to college, the Centre offers courses in masonry, carpentry, electronics, welding, hairdressing, cooking and sewing. As a result, says an elated Brine, all those who completed their training courses have now found work in Kenya.

The Centre now has nine youth in college-level courses, including Benjamin, who will graduate as a clinical officer and already returns to the Centre to mentor and tutor other children, and Edward Ekadeli, another street child whom the Bosco Centre rescued. Edward has become an excellent teacher, returning to the Centre part-time to teach his little brothers and sisters.

Right now at the Centre, 10-year-old singing sensation Sammy Njoroge is leading a group of children on the green grass of Kitale. They've all changed into costumes and are performing a song that conveys the unpredictable cycles of drought and rain suffered by the North. Then, in a moving solo, Sammy urges his people to live together in peace and harmony with other tribes.

In just 20 years, the Bosco Centre has made miracles and saved precious lives. From heaven, Saint John Bosco must be smiling.

Sean Sprague, a writer and photojournalist based in Wales, is a frequent contributor to MARYKNOLL magazine.

See a video on the Bosco Centre, click here or on YouTube.