Hope and Determination (continued)

One afternoon, while Sarah taught in the classroom, I had a knock at my gate. As I walked the short distance to open it, I wondered who it might be. Much to my surprise, I found Charles Chiloti grinning sheepishly. With him was his wife, Agnes, with their “last born”, Caleb Zachary, in her arms.

Many of you will remember this couple and their children. A few years ago they lived on the same compound with me. You’ll likely recall the thrilling story of how I was privileged to help with the birth of one of their sons and that he was subsequently named for my Dad – Duane.

In the past three years or so, they had “migrated” (moved) to many different markets and villages – all in the quest to provide for themselves and their children. Throughout all this time, we had stayed in touch.

They don’t own a phone, so it was always up to Agnes to initiate contact through my phone. She would do that every few months. Numerous times I had made the effort to go visit them. Each time, I would have to travel some distance and attempt to interpret Agnes’ directions. I last saw them in early August at Misihu, just after Caleb Zachary was born. Agnes had asked me to name him; he now bears the names of my two sons.

Now, here they stood very unexpectedly at my gate – over eight months later. I immediately invited them inside my house and we got caught up with one another.

Charles loves to talk about God’s Word. As I stated in a past story, I find him to be eloquent in spite of his broken English. He inevitably has a dimpled grin on his face as he recounts one of their amazing experiences. Together, the two of them are entertaining storytellers. If he gets stumped for the right English word, Agnes jumps in on his behalf. At times, they humorously and seemingly unknowingly talk at the same time.

This day proved to be no different, as they told me yet another incredible tale. I fixed them some peanut butter and jam sandwiches; Zach drank my last cup of tea.

The latest place they had lived was about 20 miles west of Kitale. Charles was one of many workers on a large farm, all of whom were paid on a monthly basis. Interestingly, he was the only one with a family; the rest were all single men who basically imbibed locally brewed liquor each evening. A rent-free room was provided for each worker.

Like the others, Charles toiled hard for hours on end, “weeding” in the maize fields. A clerk kept detailed records of their daily food purchases – some maize flour, two tomatoes, a mango, etc. By the end of the month, his pay amounted to only 100-140/= ($1.50-2.25)! Many of the days, Agnes worked equally hard at “casual labor” – being paid a few coins at the end of each day.

Their existence was meager to put it mildly. However, through sheer determination, they had managed to purchase school uniforms for two of their boys – Pope and Adu – and got them enrolled in school.

It eventually reached a point, though, when Agnes realized they would never get anywhere at that rate. They were both exhausted at each day’s end and they had absolutely nothing to show for it. She decided – and Charles agreed – that they had better make a break from the endless cycle that loomed in front of them.

Leaving Pope, Adu, and Duane behind, Charles and Agnes set out on foot to find Pastor Nathan. Zach was strapped to Agnes’ back. They thought maybe Nathan could help them find a house and some work in the Mtoni area.

They were determined. They held onto a sliver of hope.

They walked for a day and a half – roughly 20-30 miles – with not a cent in their pockets! They used a zigzag route, following their own sense of direction and asking for help when they needed it. For portions of the first day, it rained. Only Agnes and Zach benefited from their one umbrella.

Part way through their journey, as the sun dropped low in the sky, a “good Samaritan” gave them a place to sleep. In the morning, after a cup of tea with the kind stranger, they continued on – now with 10-bob (15 cents) in their pocket.

When they finally reached Nathan’s house, they were bone weary. However, Nathan was nowhere to be found and neither was his wife, Alice. Having been told by their children that their parents were to return soon, Charles and Agnes patiently waited for a couple of hours.

Eventually, they decided to walk to nearby Mururi center to share a single plate of “githeri” (maize and beans) purchased with their coin from the kind man.

They finished their tale by explaining that as they walked up the hill from Nathan’s house, Charles happened to see the door of my house open.

An hour or so after their arrival at my house, Nathan arrived. Having been informed by his children that Charles and Agnes were around, he correctly assumed they might be at my place. The three of them greeted one another warmly.

Nathan inquired of them, “Now, what’s your plan? You must have a plan to have come all this way.”

We caught him up on their latest saga. Nathan assured them that he could find them a cheap house as well as casual labor in the Soy Sambu area (about a 20-minute walk from my house). He also said they could sleep at his house for a few nights.

I offered to pay the fare for Charles to collect the three boys and their things; all of their worldly possessions could be gathered into three bundles.

The four of us discussed at length how much that might come to. He would use a combination of walking, bicycle taxis, four matatus, and a “mkokoteni” (hand cart). We calculated the total amount to be 1,000 shillings ($15).

Agnes and Zach would stay behind. On that same day, Nathan would attempt to find a house. I offered to pay the first two months rent and buy a bag of maize to eat – a total of another $15.