There’s a lot of controversy surrounding the topic of immunizations and the debate seems to only be getting more and more heated. I myself am still on the journey many travel, trying to figure out what I believe and what is best for our children. Though I haven’t taken a solid stand on either side of the argument, I am alarmed at the way the issue is handled in Kenya. Those in the medical community, who should be most educated on the topic, seem to be the most panicked and fearful about it. They have been bullied and terrified into accepting and carrying out the demands of the international community, and as a result bully and terrify the general public into blindly accepting what is quite literally forced on them.

I can imagine this sounds exaggeratory, so let me give some examples. The closest to my heart is the fact that my 3 ½ month old daughter does not have a birth certificate because I’ve refused to immunize her. The Kenyan government literally will not give her a birth certificate until I bring them proof from the hospital that she has been immunized. That means she is also being denied her American citizenship, which cannot be applied for without her birth certificate. So my daughter is literally being denied a citizenship that is rightfully hers by birth because I don’t want to immunize her at this time.

But the pressure isn’t only coming from the government. A couple weeks ago I went to the doctor for treatment for myself. I had my baby with me because she is still so little. The moment I walked in the door, the nurse asked me if my baby had been immunized. I told her I was delaying immunization and she was very, very concerned. She tried to make me change my mind, but I just smiled and showed her I was confident in my decision. After a while she sadly gave up on the “crazy foreigner”.

The doctor wasn’t as easy to deter. As soon as I entered his office all his attention was on the baby, even though she had nothing to do with the reason I was visiting him. His first question was whether or not she’d been immunized. I repeated all I told the nurse and he told me that it was very dangerous and I was putting her life in danger. He asked me how I’d feel if something happened to her and told me that in Kenya we have diseases that we don’t have in the U.S. and I should protect my baby against them. I tried to explain the concept of delayed immunization, but it’s all in vain when doctors here believe they know it all and their ignorant patients should unquestioningly do what they say. I finally gave up and told him I would consider what he’d said.

When I went back several days later for my test results, again his first question what if I’d gotten the baby immunized yet. I knew better than to argue this time, so I smiled and told him I was planning to take her to a pediatrician. He insisted that I not delay and get it done as soon as possible, lest my sweet little baby contract some horrible disease due to my ignorant negligence. I thanked him, took my test results, and left.

Believe it or not, what has alarmed me most however, actually only occurred a couple days ago. I was visiting a local orphanage when a government vehicle pulled up and they began rounding up all the children aged 5 years old and younger. To the kids it was routine and the older ones helped round up the younger ones. I asked an older child what was going on and she laughed and said the babies were going to get “poked” but I shouldn’t feel too bad for them because they would get a “sweet” (a piece of candy) afterward.

I had heard of these vaccination campaigns, though I’d not yet experienced one first hand. I’d heard how they go door to door asking for your children and if you refuse them, you could even be arrested. It’s even been on the local news! I had been advised by Kenyan friends that if I don’t want my babies immunized by force, then it’s better to lie and say I don’t have children than to risk arrest. Ever since then I hide my children in the house and tell them not to come out when I go to answer an unexpected knock at our front gate. But here, they had found me out in the open with nowhere to hide.

All three of my children fall into the 5 years old and younger category, and it didn’t escape the notice of the government doctor that I’d held my children back. It didn’t take long before a Kenyan nurse came looking for me outside. She walked up to me with a big warm smile and greeted me with the traditional kindness and small talk. She then told me they had found polio in their lab and all children in Kenya 5 years old and younger are in dire danger of contracting polio now so an urgent immunization campaign has been undertaken and they had come to save my children.

I knew arguing wouldn’t help, and could in fact put us in more danger, so I beamed a big smile right back at this woman and told her my children have a private pediatrician who has them on an immunization schedule and that we go faithfully to our “well baby check ups,” as they call them here. She told me that didn’t matter and that there was no problem in them receiving the vaccine more than once. She kept her eyes fixed on the little baby tied to my chest as she explained this wasn’t about the “usual” immunizations. This is a campaign to head off the impending epidemic. She told me the campaign would only last a few more days and that it was crucial my children receive the vaccine before its end. I told her I would take them to see their pediatrician the following day and that I’d just really feel better having him do it rather than strangers. She asked me several times to confirm that I would take them the very next day, first thing in the morning, and I told her I would. She wasn’t happy about it, but she seemed to believe me and left me alone. When they’d finished with all the children and were about to leave she asked me twice more if I was sure I would take the kids to the clinic the next day. I smiled and looked as responsible and determined as I could and said that I would.

I hung around for a while because I wanted to see the mark they were giving the children they had vaccinated. I found they had colored the pinkies of the children with a permanent marker after they received the vaccine so it would be known who hadn’t received it yet. The first thing I did when we got home was color all my children’s pinkies. My husband laughed and told me we were safe because the campaigners had already come to our gate that day while we had been gone. That didn’t make me feel safe at all. Not safe at home, and not safe anywhere else. They even stand in front of the market with a box of syringes (or in this case the little liquid cases) and ask you as you walk inside whether your child has received the vaccine yet!

I think of all the precious little babies being rounded up like cattle, with and without their parents’ knowledge, with or without their consent, and most definitely without their full understanding of what’s going on or the option of empowerment to understand it. I think about my Kenyan friend whose 5-year-old son was vaccinated at school without her knowledge or consent during a different campaign and how he had a near deadly allergic reaction to the vaccine. An allergy she already knew he had.

No matter where you stand on the issue of immunization, surely this is not acceptable, because the heart of the matter isn’t even about vaccination. No matter where you are born, you are a precious human being who should have the right to say what is and isn’t done to your body and the bodies of your children. You should have the right to empowerment to seek out and understand the options and consequences of injecting or not injecting substances into your body and the bodies of your children. If those rights don’t exist, then where does the madness end? Where is the line drawn and who draws it?

All in all, I am thankful for these experiences. I am thankful to live among the precious Kenyan people and to experience their challenges first hand, right along side them as their sister in Christ. I am thankful that God has given me a small voice and a small sphere of influence because He tells us to speak up for those who can’t speak for themselves. If He hadn’t brought me here to share in some of their sufferings, who would tell this story? After all, sharing in their sufferings is what drew me to study midwifery in the first place. Sharing in their sufferings is what brought be to Charis.

Ezriel, Jannekah, Adali Lynn and Amariah Guya