Bethel University sophomore Hannah Quinn sings between a couple of women inmates in Kewangware, Kenya last February on a mission trip with Grace Church Eden Prairie. Quinn’s music and drama team set up a program to worship with the the inmates and spread God’s word. A few inmates felt moved to join Quinn in worship instead of watching from a distance during the last song the team performed. “It was a holy moment,” Quinn said. “To realize that these are our sisters in Christ.” | Photo by Nate Anderson

Defining moment: Bega Kwa Bega

Bethel University student shares her defining moment

Brianna Shaw
ROYAL REPORT
Published in
4 min readMay 18, 2016

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By Brianna Shaw | Royal Report

Bethel University sophomore Hannah Quinn sits on the bus in the 80 degree Kenya sun. Packed in like sardines, shoulder to shoulder, or in Kenyan, bega kwa bega. Her patience is growing thin. Grace Church Eden Prairie’s music worship team has been waiting for an hour and a half now because they have to make sure it’s safe for them to go inside. This whole time Hannah thinks the prisoners are being locked up in their spaces so they couldn’t hurt them, but little did she know that during that hour and a half, her leader is also negotiating with the guard to free eight women. Hannah doesn’t know what to expect yet. Finally, the time comes. They’re ready to open the doors and welcome her team inside. Hannah climbs off the bus a little frustrated. She reminds herself Okay, we’re going to do some really cool work here…

Hannah notices the main guard. Her team sees joy in her eyes. It’s a brightness so radiant like the sun itself that, immediately, everyone felt at ease. This throws Hannah off-guard. She stereotyped prison guards as stern, intimidating people who keep you up at night, but this Godly woman is not. She realizes this guard isn’t just there to get paid. She is there because she has such a great heart for these women, and if she could help them more, she would. But she can’t.

“Welcome! It means so much that you’re here,” the women’s prison guard said. “We’ve been wanting to do so much, but we can’t.”

Hannah’s worship team quickly snaps a few photos with a couple of inmates and the high-spirited guard. Then, they donate toilet paper, soap, toothpaste, and toothbrushes; things these women hadn’t had for years. Finally, their time to worship the Lord has come. Hannah anxiously walks inside. A few inmates are sitting scarcely at tables, but then they start walking to a base, similar to an open pavilion. They hear the low hum of voices singing. As they get closer, the voices grow louder and they hear a drum thump-thump-thumping along to a beat. Boom. They see it. Hannah and her team are looking at close to two hundred smiling inmates singing away and praising the Lord with all their hearts. For such a dark, somber place to hold so many positive human beings is a miracle in itself. Hannah thinks their energy is intensifying. Breathtaking. They must have been waiting here for awhile…

However, these women are only surviving. Reasons why they’re in the prison vary, and some of those reasons are the smallest of sins. For example, some women are in prison for simply selling vegetables on the wrong side of the road. Or they’re there for a $15 fine, but they’re so poor that they cannot afford it, so they must stay in the prison until someone frees them. Seeing smiling children running around is normal too because their mothers who came to the prison in the middle of their pregnancy gave birth to them in their separate spaces. Not in a hospital. A jail cell.

Taking it all in, Hannah realizes their life is so dark, yet they choose to stay positive because they have Jesus in their hearts. Hannah stands in front of the two hundred women and wonders Are they happier in the prison than they would be at home? Is this life better for them here? Why do they seem so happy?

With these questions lingering in Hannah’s in mind, the program begins. They perform a life house skit, an illusionist comes in, Hannah even delivers her testimony. But her most impacting moment awaits. They sing the song “My Life is in Your Hands.” The women are awestruck. They close their eyes, soaking up this single happy moment with the Lord like a bunch of sponges. Hannah looks at them worshipping and realizes, now, that they know they’re in a tough place, but they have the joy of the Lord in their hearts. That’s all they need. It’s all they want.

“They sin. I sin. It just so happens that their sins are illegal.” — Hannah Quinn, sophomore

With the end of the program coming to a close, the inmates want to sing “My Life is in Your Hands” one last time. The worship team happily agrees. The song starts. Hannah stands in front singing and worshipping her God proudly. Then, a few of the women begin coming up to the front. She feels in that moment, God opened her eyes to grace and hope.

“They sin. I sin. It just so happens that their sins are illegal,” Hannah said.

They put their arms around her, sing, dance, and worship their God proudly. Together. Shoulder to shoulder. Bega kwa bega.

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