CLEAN WATER:
The Ingredient for Survival

For millions of people on this earth, a glass of clean water fetched by walking for just a few minutes is an elusive hope. The thought of obtaining water by turning a tap seems an absolute impossibility. In many places, when a village realizes the dream of a common water source, its entire population kneels in adoration, thankful for the bright future that the water promises. The agony of people suffering just to have clean drinking (not cooking) water, settled in the back of my mind after I became accustomed to living here, in America, where it is not necessary to trek for miles with gourds or metal tins on our heads to fetch water.

Painful memories of the past came into my focus when I visited my friend, Kasey Lewis, a chiropractor. After reviewing my neck X-rays, he asked whether I had been in a major accident in the last fifteen years. He was puzzled when I said “No.” Further discussion led us to conclude that the unexpected shape of my neck bones was a result of carrying water containers on my head during my youth. It’s hard to think of the many people of my community whose necks suffer from the same practice.

I was reminded again of the value of water when the Pacific Northwest Section of the American Water Works Association invited me to be the opening-ceremony keynote speaker at their annual conference a few years ago. I learned of their challenges as they strive to provide communities with clean and safe water, especially in these times of random terrorism. Like many other organization, they have to do more with limited manpower and material resources.

As I was preparing for this conference, I realized how blessed people in industrialized areas are. Having clean water is not something we think about. It is there, at all times and in any quantity. Sometimes we are even shocked when we move from an apartment to a house and learn that we have to pay for water––every month.

Where I grew up we fetched water for cooking from a nearby river and drinking water from a spring. Finally, in 1976, my dad paid for tap water to be brought into our compound. The revelation of the value of water was emphasized when I worked with pastoral communities in eastern Kenya, an area with scarce water sources. In late 1985, with my field crew, I met a pastoral family in transit. They were moving to a new area in search of water and grass for their camels, cattle and goats. The family had traveled for about two weeks. They had not a drop of water when we met. The head of the family asked us for some water. When I responded to his plea, he stopped his camels, took empty water pots from their backs and handed them to me. I noticed that the pots needed to be washed before we could put drinking water into them.

As I was about to throw out the water I had used to clean the pots, that man––the head of the family––held my hand and said, “Give us this water; don’t throw it away! It is precious!” After I finished transferring some water into his pots, the man pointed to a goat and said, “Thank you for the water. Have that goat.”