“Bro, is it okay if I help out at your next session today?”

Those were Stephen’s last words as we wrapped up our first session in Uthiru, and I prepared to make my way to my 3 p.m. program in Kiberia.

“100% my boy! Let’s do it,” was my answer.

“But bro…” I said, “there’s one thing we gotta do before it.” His eyes opened wide and his ears perked up.

“I need lunch! KFC on me, if you’re down,” I finished.

We hopped in an Uber and headed towards Westlands, a boujee little mall complex in the expat section of town. Now, if our first session ran long, the line at KFC ran even longer. We didn’t reach the mall until 2 o’clock, and our 3 o’clock session was still 30 minutes away. I connected to wifi and let my contact at the next organization, Mr. John, know I’d try to get there as soon as I could. KFC, though, had other plans. Our meals didn’t come out until 3:07 and man, I inhaled that food.

We hailed an Uber and made our way towards Kiberia. The driver got lost along the way, but his throwback R&B playlist on the aux more than made up for it. Finally, 57 minutes late, we reached the big front gate of Real Hope Community Youth Foundation. I was met with a warm greeting by Mr. John, as well as Joseph, the building’s security guard. The kids were all outside getting ready, but Mr. John quickly organized them while Stephen and I set up drill number one.

Knowing I’d have his help once again, I gave him a quick breakdown of the session, making note of a smaller time frame given our late arrival. From there, boys and girls from RHCYF were gathered in front of us for a quick pre-program chat.

“Respect, energy, and attention,” I listened intently as Mr. John hammered the words home to our beneficiaries.

I was determined to make the most of the little time left in the day. We hit a quick listening drill, run by both myself and Stephen. Then, we split into four separate grids with Stephen, Joseph, one of the oldest boys in the session, and I manning them. We would be hitting all the important ball control spots. I watched with a smile as even Joseph, the foundation’s security guard, played with us – absolutely cheesing from drill to drill.

Just beside him, the boys’ house father was observing with an equally big smile on his face. Moving to our next drill, I decided it was time to give out some prizes. We broke into head it, catch it. A sprightly girl named Yvonne secured the first win.

She received a new soccer ball, and given the three worn out and torn soccer balls I’d seen at the foundation upon arrival, it was as coveted a prize as any.

Don’t worry though, we left a handful of additional soccer balls for the organization to use whenever the kids desired. Finishing my round, I tossed the ball over to Stephen. “Run the next one bro,” I instructed him.

“Wait…” he said, slyly, I have a different one I want to do with them.

I observed off to the side as he ran through the game I first introduced back in the Philippines, bouncing the ball on the ground with the kids circling around having to clap right after the ball touched pavement. A young lad named Goodla took home the victory, and was rewarded handsomely for his troubles with a nice new football.

The fun was not yet over though! We still had time for a scrimmage. We broke into small teams and ran things street style, the winner stayed on. From there, the kids picked two all star teams to go at it for three minutes, with a ball prize up for grabs for our golden boot winner. Finally, we wrapped things up, and every participant received a new drawstring bag to use at school and elsewhere.

“What were those three things Stephen asked you guys for earlier?” Mr. John said to the kids.

“Respect…” said one.

“Energy!” said another, enthusiastically.

“Attention,” said the group in unison.

It was a perfect last session in Nairobi, and with football business out of the way, I could finally touch base with Mr. John to hear more about the foundation. RHCYF was the brainchild of four individuals who shared similar values. They saw a need and wanted to meet that need, resulting in the organization’s founding nearly 10 years ago. One of those founders, in particular, had himself grown up on the street, so it’s safe to say the work hit close to home.

Present day, the foundation had over 130 beneficiaries, all carefully documented by age, school, parents, and more. They ran a very tight ship, as it should be in this field. Children benefited from the presence of a social worker on staff, from routine meetings with their psychologist, from a library, a computer lab, a community garden, a glass making room, an arts center, a learning center for individuals with cerebral palsy. You name it, the foundation was catering to it.

“Well, as you can imagine, reintegration is the main goal,” Mr. John shared.

“But, education is by far our strongest tool. You know, a future is born out of education… not out of food, or shelter, these things are important yes… but ultimately, education is the strongest tool of them all.”

Mr. John spoke so passionately about the foundation’s work, that it was impossible to not be captivated by his words. I found common ground between us as he shared how much the foundation prided itself on transparency. “One of the most important fundamentals of giving is trust. Trust from us to our beneficiaries, from our benefactors to us,” he said, which immediately resonated with me.

It was clear that for Mr. John, RHCYF was a true labor of love. Sure, each day came with its own challenges, but without a doubt there was nothing else he’d rather be doing. A travel consultant by trade, he found purpose in what he was doing, and never missed an opportunity to advocate on behalf of RHCYF’s kids. His last excitement came in sharing their recent transition from a youth organization to a foundation, which, as imagined, took lots of paperwork and time, but was an incredibly special milestone. Not for them, but especially for the kids as it gave RHCYF the opportunity to now have an impact outside of Nairobi as well.

Ahead of our conversation, I had meant to thank Mr. John and boy was I glad to finally be able to do so.

“Mr. John… I gotta thank you for letting Coach Stephen come to assist me. I know it was last minute, but I really appreciate it.”

“After all he’s probably a better footballer than me anyway!” I said, with a laugh.

Mr. John surprised me with his answer. “He (Stephen) actually did express a desire to return, to spend some time with the kids.”

“That’s fantastic!” I said, “he’s a heck of a player with a very bright future… there’s so much these boys and girls could learn from him.”