stretched around his children at Christian Fellowship Church in Columbia. Her husband, Adam, had recently told her about a Congolese man named Noe whom he met at Boone Clinic. Jen immediately knew that this was Noe. During a break in the Sunday service, she found a college student who could speak French and help translate. She introduced herself to Noe and invited him and his family over for lunch. “We just connected right away,” she says. “Our relationship started that first day at the end of lunch. Noe said: ‘Adam, you’re a doctor. I need you to help me save my nephew who’s dying in Burundi.’” Jen and Adam weren’t sure how to respond. Noe’s nephew, Gloire, only about 7 years old, had developed a hip infection, and doctors at the University of Burundi didn’t have the expertise to treat him. They advised his family to travel to another country for care or return home and prepare for Gloire to die. Adam asked Noe to have Gloire’s father email him the boy’s medical records and scans. What happened over the next five months forever cemented the bond between the Wheeler and Rusaya families. Adam located a physician in Kenya who agreed to operate on Gloire. Coincidentally, on the day Gloire and his father flew into Kenya, Adam was flying out of the African country after visiting orphanages on unrelated business. Hoping to meet Adam as a surprise, Gloire’s father waited at the airport. “When Adam stepped out of the taxi, a tall, dark-skinned man asked, ‘Are you Adam?’” Jen says. “He was so grateful.”
God would give him a new family and new parents in America, and they weren’t sure what that meant,” Jen says. “But they’ve warmed up to him and fallen in love with his family.”
Rebuilding his career in Columbia Noe’s poor English made it difficult for him to find work in Columbia, where he began cleaning rooms at the Hampton Inn. His supervisor often had to point or demonstrate when giving instructions. “It was very, very difficult,” Noe says. “In Congo, I was a supervisor; here my first job was a housekeeper.” Jen met several refugee families such as the Rusayas who struggled to secure jobs and provide for their families because they didn’t speak English well. “It became burdensome to me,” she says. “I wished that someone would start a company and hire them all, but no one did. One day, I said, ‘OK, I'll do it myself.’” Jen, a trained journalist with two teachers as parents, knew nothing about opening a cleaning business; she literally Googled it. In January 2010, she opened Safi Sani, which means very clean in Swahili. In the company’s first year, she generated $70,000 in wages to refugee employees. The first employee she hired was Esperance. “She is such a perfectionist and always does a fantastic job,” Jen says. “When I first met her, she was kind of shy, and she doesn’t speak a lot of English. But over time as we got together, I saw what a loving mom she was.”
“We just connected right away. Our relationship started that first day at the end of lunch. Noe said: ‘Adam, you’re a doctor. I need you to help me save my nephew who’s dying in Burundi.’” — Jen Wheeler While Gloire was in Kenya recovering from his surgery, which was successful, his mother gave birth to a girl and named her Jen. Noe and Esperance’s youngest is also named Jenny in tribute to Jen Wheeler. “Ever since I went to Jen’s home, Adam has been my best friend and family,” Noe says. “I’m one of their family now. His dad is my dad. Even if I call home, I tell them I have another dad here.” Jen says Adam’s parents, who live on a farm in Bolivar, were a little shocked when they met Noe. “He told them he prayed that
Noe also worked for Safi Sani for a few months, particularly with its client Tiger Pediatrics. “I felt bad that he was cleaning the clinic when he was qualified to work for the clinic,” Jen says. “But I was happy that he was around health professionals and hoped he might connect with a physician and get a better job.” The Wheelers secured a donation to help Noe enroll in the Intensive English Program at the University of Missouri. The program enabled Noe to help his children with their studies. He says his kids still understand
Noe and Esperance grew up in the same Congolese village, and both found work and support in Columbia through the Wheelers. when he and Esperance speak in French or Swahili but all answer back in English. Wanting to provide support to more refugee families, Jen started City of Refuge, a nonprofit that helps refugees by filling in the gaps (such as providing baby clothes for an expectant mother) and connecting them to community resources. This summer, City of Refuge sponsored two health care clinic days at Tiger Pediatrics for Burmese and African refugees. “At the end of the day, Adam said he felt terrible that we’re only doing a D+ job taking care of refugees,” Jen says. Parents of many refugee patients don’t understand or follow through with doctor’s recommendations. Adam began considering hiring Noe to oversee the care of refugee patients but wasn’t sure how to cover his salary. He decided he’d apply for grants to help pay Noe’s salary, but in the meantime, he’d cover the costs personally. In August, Adam announced at a staff meeting that Noe would join them as a public health administrator for refugee patients. The other physicians told Adam they believed in his vision — and they wanted to share in the cost of Noe’s salary. For Noe, the job opportunity means a chance to provide for his family and continue his public health career in America. He’s trying to elevate his English skills and hopes to pursue a master’s degree in public health at MU one day. But the opportunity also means the chance to help others and repay the kindness shown to him by the Wheelers. “Something that has surprised me is how American people help people they don’t know,” Noe says. “They don’t know you, don’t speak the same language, are not the same color, but they help you. That means so much to me.” To contribute to the City of Refuge’s efforts in Columbia, visit City of Refuge on Facebook, or contact Jen Wheeler at (573) 814-1170 or mizzou4you@gmail.com. columbiahomemagazine.com | 63