Life is a series of Journeys

If we have faith enough to set out and follow unknown paths full of risks and rewards, we can find ourselves constantly growing and stretching and being renewed at the end of one for the start of the next journey.  I want to share two journeys with you; Everline’s and mine.

Education is worth the rocky path: Everline’s journey

For those of you who don’t know the story, I met Everline Aoko Okumu almost 12 years ago in Nyaoga. She was the mother of three, wife of James Okumu. She sold vegetables in the market. In one of our first conversations she told me she had dropped out of high school when she’d gotten pregnant and that she was very smart and needed to go back to school but more than that she wanted to go to university. It took a couple of years because she had another child, but I started saving money to send Everline back to school. I don’t remember how many terms I was able to get funds donated to pay for this or when Give Us Wings stepped in to assist her,; what I do know is that I wasn’t going to miss her big day -  the day she finally realized her dream of graduating from university.

Everline and I at her graduation.

Everline attended Macinde Muliru University of Science and Technology in Kagamega. She graduated with a degree in sugar technology. It is a very specialized field. There are only three graduates. The other two are men. She graduated at the top of her class, beating out the two men for top honors!

I didn’t actually get to see her walk across the stage; there were too many people to get anywhere close, but I was there to hug her and give her a high five and remember together our journeys and how far we have come.

Traveling Kenyan-style: Jessica’s journey

Day One: There is something magical about the number four or maybe I just think that 96 hours is enough time get just about anything done. This particular journey is the third time in three years that I have attempted to get to Kisumu and back in four days with a whole lot of work sandwiched between 6 hours of travel to and from Nairobi in that stretch of time. I used all public transport, which while exhausting was not intolerable.

I left early on a Tuesday morning and boarded a matatu (a usually overcrowded van) to take me to Nairobi to catch an Easy Coach to Kisumu. The man who sat next to me was a Christian and turned out to be my knight in shining armor when I needed transport assistance in Kisumu, including where to get off the bus so that the people hosting me the first night would not have to go into Kisumu town to fetch me.

I stayed in Orongo Village, about 8 km outside Kisumu. I had met Mama Florence and her son Charles at a church planting conference near Nairobi. They have a project that helps HIV/AIDS orphans and widows. Charles was waiting at the road. We took piki taxis (motorcycles) to the site of their homes and the project.

Charles showed me around their project site while Mama Florence was interviewed by K24 a Kenyan TV station about the progress of her adult education class. Around 9 pm dinner was served. By this time I was half asleep and famished. After dinner I was asked if I’d like to retire early. It was almost 10 pm. I said yes! I slept in a comfortable bed under a mosquito net. Before I went to bed while Florence and I were talking two bats flew in the room. I have never been so happy to sleep under a net before in my life!

Day Two: I got up in the morning and took a very refreshing bucket shower. Then I ate a couple of fried eggs and finished packing my bag. A piki was called and I was taken back to the main road. The piki driver hailed a matatu for me to Kendu Bay. This leg of journey is okay except for a long stretch that is under construction. The journey took two hours instead of the estimated hour and a half!

My mission for the day was to see Charles Omondi, the boy who used to live with me. He is now back with his grandmother and cousin who lives nearby. When I arrived in Kendu Bay, I located another piki to take me to Nyaoga. It is about a half hour trip. I had arranged for a man from the village to translate for me. James was waiting for me when I arrived. We climbed up the hill and sat down with Justina, Omondi’s 90-something year old grandmother. Omondi’s mother died in childbirth and Justina took him in. Omondi is now 13 and as he has never lived a particularly structured or disciplined existence, he is not easily controlled. His cousin, the education coordinator for sponsored children, the translator who has known him all his life, his grandmother and I tried to come up with a plan for him. Omondi is running out of options. He wants to live with his brothers who can barely take care of themselves much less a rebellious 13 year-old, but he has burned every other bridge. The only other option is some sort of military school, of which there are few in East Africa and none that we know of in Kenya.

Charles Omondi, 13

Selfie with Justina, Omondi's grandmother.

I have known this child since he was about 9 months old. Even though I know it’s not true, I feel somehow responsible for him. But there comes a time when you’ve done all you can that people have to choose for themselves if they want to try to achieve a level of stability and success in life or just survive on the margins. You can’t force people to do what’s best for them. I don’t want to lose this boy, but in reality he was never mine to save in the first place. I did all the counseling I could jam into 30 minutes. He has to make a choice now.

But day two wasn’t over. I hopped on another piki and headed back to Kendu Bay and then back to Orongo to pick up my suitcase. It was quite the journey! Up-country (what Kenyans call pretty much anywhere outside of Nairobi), is very rural and I am even more of an oddity there. The matatu touts had a grand time speaking English. “You going Kisumu mzungu…get in.” When they found out I was only going as far as Orongo they gave me a wider berth…Orongo is a very poor place, not the kind of place mzungus hang out. About half way through this leg, I gave up my seat to a woman with a toddler. They also overfill matatus so that people have to stand in the aisles. I was the only foreigner on the bus. I saw some of the other passengers looking at me, probably wondering why I would give up my seat. I hope a little spark of God’s light filtered through that act to those who observed it. Or maybe just that they will follow the example when they next see someone who needs to sit down more than they do.

I got off the matatu at Kendu Bay and was taken by piki to Orongo where I collected my bag. Mama Florence wasn’t there so I made a deal with the piki driver to take me all the way to Kisumu. I called Ishmael, the man I’d met on the bus to ask if he knew of a good place to stay in Kisumu (I did this while on the back of the piki at about 5 pm). Ishmael told me to meet him at a mall in Kisumu and he took me to a Christian guest house called Shalom House. It was sparse but fine for a night and cheaper than the other places I’d heard of. He told me he would take me to the bus stage in the morning.

I had made plans the night before to meet Danielle, who works for Give Us Wings, for dinner in Kisumu. By the time I got to Shalom House I had very little time to get ready. My face was a shade of brown from dust that I didn’t dare go out without showering first. The piki driver said he knew where the restaurant was. Mind you it was dark by now and I didn’t have a clue as to where I was going. We drove for a while and then the driver said, “ It’s on this road somewhere, right? “ “No,” I said, “ it’s downtown.” After many phone calls to Danielle at the restaurant and driving around in circles downtown we located the restaurant. The driver asked me for extra money since he went out of his way. Seriously! You don’t know where you’re going but you say you do and then you think I should pay you for your ignorance. Sorry! He smiled. He knew that was a long shot.

Danielle and I had a lovely dinner and I went home in a tuk-tuk and sank into an exhausted yet peaceful sleep!

Day Three: Are you tired yet? I certainly was, but I didn’t have to rush off. I got up and had breakfast and Ishmael picked me up as promised around 9:30. He took me back to the mall where he had picked me up the night before. I did email and then headed across the street to get a matatu to Stendikisa, a matatu stage near Vihiga where my foster daughter, Milly is from. She was visiting her family in the village where she grew up. She had been there for almost three weeks.

 

 

 

Milly and Tamara in front of Milly's uncle's house.

Tamara seeing her Nana again after three weeks!

Bathtime village style!

I was not up to the task of keeping this pesky rooster out of the living room!

Milly met me in Stendikisa, and we took a matatu another 30 minutes to her village and then took a piki from the main road to her uncle’s house in a valley. It was quite the journey. She lives in a beautiful setting. I got there around midday. The first meal we ate was around 8p.m. I was beyond hungry but then I thought about the reason people don’t eat in the middle of the day. There is nothing to eat and no money to buy anything to eat. That night we ate sukuma (cooked kale) and ugali (corn-meal mush). I was also given a fried egg, being the honored guest.

Milly and I attempted a walk around her village in the afternoon with her younger sister but it started to rain. I did get to see where Milly went to elementary school. I met Milly’s mom, Rose who has 7 children with Milly being the oldest.

Milly, Tamara and grandma Rose.

I heard drums and singing in the afternoon and asked Milly what that was. She said schools in the area have competitions and they were practicing. We went to watch. I loved hearing Christmas carols sung in Luya. I slept on the floor in the living room with Milly and Tamara. We didn’t have a mosquito net. Luckily I only heard one mosquito in the night.

Day Four: I got up in the morning around 7a.m. and used Wet Ones to shower, put on my wrinkle-proof dress and ate my last apple and hiked up the hill with Milly to catch a matatu to Everline’s graduation.

Instead of taking a matatu, I decided to take a piki because I wanted to be dropped off at the gate of the university and not at some stage in town. It’s a good thing I did, because the traffic was insane!

I didn’t see much of the graduation, but I was able to meet Everline’s mom, and sister and two of her brothers. Her sister has a six year old daughter and has enrolled in teacher’s college, following Everline’s example. Her two brothers are also college graduates. I don’t know if her mother even finished high school.

Everline's mom tries on her cap!

 After graduation, I had to go back and pick up Milly and Tamara from the village and then get back to Kagamega to catch a night bus to Nairobi. Everline’s brother Garrett asked one of his friends to take me to pick up Milly. On the way back there was a torrential rain and hail storm. When we arrived back in Kagamega it had not rained there! I changed in the car. We dropped our bags at the bus station and we went to meet Everline and her other brother and sister at a restaurant. We had a nice dinner and a talk.

This is the end of a chapter in her life and the next pages are blank. She will need every ounce of courage and determination she possesses to take the next steps.

Milly and Tamara did great on the way home. I tripped up some stairs at the last rest stop and banged up both my knees! The rest of the ride home was not pleasant. But today they are not hurting although they are very colorful.

Judie came home Saturday night from Chogoria, where she was visiting friends and family. It was nice to sleep in my bed and know my girls were safe in their beds.

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The journey is never easy. It doesn’t matter if it’s a journey of a few days or many years. Some parts turn out better than expected and others are utter failures due to the choices we’ve made. The journey is not as important as the lessons we learn along the way.

There is a certain peace that comes at the end of a journey. I saw everyone and did all I needed to do. Now the blank pages appear again. A new opportunity to be thankful for God’s provision, his faithfulness and his guidance. A new day, a new journey.