I took the fork, loaded it up with a piece of blue and white frosted cake, and gently put it into the mouth of a middle aged man sitting in his makeshift wheelchair under the blazing hot sun in the middle of Kakuma refugee camp.

I visited Kakuma in September. We had three main objectives for our trip, of which one was to observe an IAFR sponsored emergency food distribution led by a partner refugee church. (We also offered a three-day theological training for a group of fifty refugee pastors and a one-day training related to organizational development with a group of 25 leaders from the four refugee-led organizations with which we partner in the camp.)

The cake appeared during the opening ceremony of the food distribution. A group came out of the church singing and carrying a cake. Hundreds of women, children, and men were gathered outside to receive food assistance. They, too, joined in the song.

Their song was to the tune of “Happy Birthday to You.” The words were changed to “Happy Retirement to You.” When they set it before me, I saw those words written with frosting on the cake. They had heard I would be retiring from my role as IAFR President before the end of the year, and they wanted to celebrate. It’s what friends do.

When it comes to cake, the tradition of many cultures is that the one being celebrated is given the first bite of cake and is then to put a piece in everyone else’s mouth. They had me start with several of the refugees leading the food distribution program. A Burundian pastor. A pastor from South Sudan. A Somali sheikh. A representative from the Kenyan Department of Refugee Services. They then asked me to go out to the waiting crowd with a fork and the blue and white frosted cake. Those with disabilities were gathered in the front. One by one I offered them a bite of cake. The smiles and joy in their eyes was unmistakable. I knew I was on holy ground.

When the celebration ended, the IAFR-sponsored food distribution went into action. Over the next 48 hours, over 5,000 of the most vulnerable people in Kakuma received enough beans, cornmeal, cooking oil, and salt to last 10-14 days. That may not sound like much, but when you’re living on the edge, a two-week buffer is a big deal.

To make sense of what happened that day feels like trying to mix oil and water. I was surrounded by some of the most vulnerable people on the planet. And yet there was cake and celebration. But that is the reality of life in a refugee camp.

That is the beauty of the way in which IAFR pursues our vision of helping people survive and recover from forced displacement. We are about much more than providing transactional services. Everything we do is rooted in authentic relationships with the people we serve.

CLICK to learn more about IAFR's work in Kakuma Refugee Camp