Ageno; A Collection BY Lovine Mboya

Ageno Stories of Hope

A Collection by

3:10

Lovine Mboya

Ageno Stories of Hope

by Lovine Mboya

Copyright

2019 by Christine Lovine Mboya

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a review.

Inquiries/Feedback line: lovinemboya@gmail.com Ageno has been written and compiled by: Lovine Mboya Design: Lovine Mboya

Ageno is Luo for I Hope, derived from the word Geno; which means Hope.

When putting together this collection, I settled on quite a number of titles, all of which were inspired by unifying themes/lessons in the stories. But hope tugged at my heart the most.

Picture this; You relocate to a new country, get to the top of your career, then suddenly war breaks out and you have to go back home and start all over again, with nothing. Where do you start? Or you’re sitting at home whiling the Sunday away, when a trusted relative comes and has his way with your body. And worse, gets away with it. Who do you turn to? Or you’re in high school, and volunteer for HIV testing, just for the free sodas with your friends. But the test results declare you HIV positive. What happens next?

These are not just examples, but true stories, with real people that you’ll meet in this collection. In my blogging phase, I reached out to, and had amazing, deep conversations with different people, who shared with me intimate parts of themselves, stories I will forever be grateful for. Their insecurities, their struggles, their fears, but most importantly, their hope inspite of, and their triumph at the end of it all.

These stories were originally published on my online platforms, but because I’m a nice person, ha, I’m making it easier for you to access ALL of them at a go, and share with as many as you can. Because they are OUR stories. Our experiences.

I hope they inspire, enlighten, and uplift you.

Above all, may they give you hope.

With Love, Lovine.

Acknowledgments

I am eternally grateful to Tracy Mulei, Marylize Biubwa, Phenny Awiti, Deborah Kisongochi, Cera Kieha, Billian Ojiwa, Victor Kegengo, Brian Ochieng’, Otieno Ogeda and all the amazing people who have shared their stories of hope with me, either appearing in this collection or on my other online platforms. Thank you, for trusting me with your stories. Thank you, for allowing us to know you, learn from you, and in turn, be bolder in sharing parts of ourselves with the world.

Phenny Awiti

On living with HIV, campaigning against Stigma, and Finding Love.

It is a cold afternoon in 2009, girls at Asumbi High are walking slowly towards the school clinic which has now been temporarily set up as a testing centre. The counsellor is ready, kits neatly arranged. Like many other girls going for the test, Phenny is primarily interested in the sodas.

She hasn’t thought much about the test, because she is not expecting any surprises. When it is her turn, the counsellor asks casually, ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’

‘No’ Her blood sample is taken, and she sits to wait for the results. Phenny is calm, trusting there’s really no reason to worry about anything.

A few minutes in, her results are ready, and the test reads positive.

‘I did not understand how, and did not know how to react. I was just sitting there, my head suddenly blank.’

‘But you said you don’t have a boyfriend?’ the counsellor says.

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Nothing else was said to me after that. That was it, no counselling, no advice on what I should do, or at least assurance that I’ll be okay. Nothing. I was 16! I left for class; My mind in a haze.

How was I HIV positive? When did this happen? I really did not understand’ ‘I didn’t know what to do. I needed to talk to someone. My world had suddenly become so small and dark, I was going to go crazy. So I confided in my best friend at that time, who was very understanding and supportive at first. A few days after disclosing my status to her, everyone in the school was whispering about me. Even teachers would pass by our class to see who this girl with HIV is. I had suddenly shifted from being Phenny, to Phenny the Girl with HIV. I was traumatized.’

Phenny decided to call her family about it. She talked to her big sister Viola, who also doubled up as her guardian, having taken over after their parents’ death.

‘Viola came to the school and we sat down to talk. Her response and generally my family’s response was very different from my friends’ and schoolmates’. She was very calm about it. Viola told me our parents had died of the virus, and that I had very possibly been born with it. I am the last child in a family of six, and at that time was also a virgin.’

Over the August holidays, Phenny started taking her ARVs, and though that was not the very beginning of her journey with HIV, it was different, since now she knew her status.

‘It took me a while to adjust to this new lifestyle. My body at first refused the medication, and I would experience nausea, drowsiness and loss of appetite. Over time, my body and mind became one with this new lifestyle I had to live.’

Shortly after her diagnosis, Phenny met someone and got married.

‘He was HIV negative.’

Phenny explains, ‘I met a number of suitors who were interested in a relationship, but the moment I disclosed my status, they never stayed. I made it a vow to always disclose my…

… my status to someone keen on us dating, so that they make a conscious and informed decision to stay, or not. My now ex-husband came, and stayed, even though he was HIV negative. Our relationship was made possible by the fact that I had a low viral load, which basically means the amount* of HIV detectable in my blood cells was low. When the viral load is low chances of infecting another person with the virus is almost impossible. I would do these tests three times a year just to be sure. At first we would have protected sex, and then he felt ready for us to start having unprotected sex.’

Phenny got pregnant with their first child, Emmanuellah Faraja, and soon after, her second daughter Ahadi Mor followed.

‘Things started getting rocky in our marriage when I was pregnant with our second child. My husband was cheating on me, and he later confirmed it. This was a deal breaker, a door to HIV re-infection and other opportunistic infections. We split ways and I dedicated myself to the care of our two little girls.’

Phenny runs Taji Foundation, an organization geared towards raising awareness on HIV/AIDS, and working with people living with the virus, discordant couples, on how to better manage their health, and society stigma.

‘I started Taji Foundation in 2016, but launched operations in 2017 after I came out publicly about my HIV status. We have partnered with a number of organizations including NEPHAK, to ensure a wider reach.’

What can we do to support your cause, I ask.

‘It is important that people are re-educated about HIV/AIDS. Also just as important is stopping stigma, which plays a big role in the spread of this virus. People don’t get tested because they are afraid of what will be said, and even those who know their status and are positive are afraid to get ARVs. We need to put an end to stigma.’

This year, Phenny Awiti clocks 10 years since she tested positive for HIV.

Marylize Biubwa

Sexually Abused at 10Marylize's Story of Finding Healing in Helping Other Victims

It is a Sunday morning, I send Marylize a text message, asking if I could feature her on the blog for the amazing work she has been doing as a gender equality/rights activist.

‘Sure!’ she says. Then she tells me a little about what she is currently doing and what keeps her going.

‘Is there a personal reason why you are passionately involved in empowering girls?’ I ask.

‘Yes. I am a rape survivor. This, and the events that took place afterwards, changed my life forever. Maybe if I knew better and was empowered, my story would have been different. I want to do that for another girl. Educate and empower them.’

The year is 2000, a warm Sunday afternoon. After the church service, TEN-YEAR-OLD Marylize walks home, serves herself lunch, changes into comfortable shorts before sitting down to watch a movie. The rest of the family is out, Sundays being the ideal day to catch up with friends. Just a few minutes into settling down, there’s a knock at the door. It’s her uncle. Marylize lets him in and being the gracious little host, hands him the TV remote.

‘Can I have a glass of water please?’ he says.

Marylize walks to the kitchen to get him the water. He follows her.

‘I don’t think much of it then. Maybe he just wants to get the water himself.’

But, doubts set in when he suddenly starts touching her.

‘It doesn’t feel right. I don’t like it. So I walk back to the sitting room’ Her uncle follows her back to the sitting room, forgetting the water he’d requested for in the kitchen.

‘I tell myself maybe that has just been a bad moment, and we can continue watching TV. I am wrong.’

Her uncle walks straight to where she is sitting, grabs her hands and forcefully pins them behind her head.

‘Then he says I look so sexy today. I have heard that word on TV before, and I know it’s not something uncles tell their nieces. I had never even heard my mum and dad tell that to each other.’

He undresses her, and she tries to fight him off. But how much war can a ten-year old girl wage against a grown man? He forces himself onto her.

Pain. Anger. More pain. More struggle. Nothing gives. He doesn’t stop. Until he is done.

‘Then he zips up and leaves. He doesn’t look at me. Never says anything.’

Marylize is left laying on the couch, suddenly numb.

‘It is like my brain just shuts down. I am not even angry anymore.’

A few minutes pass, and she can feel herself again.

‘The first emotion I register at this point is fear. I am scared of someone finding me there like that, especially my big brother seeing what had happened. I suddenly want to protect myself.

From what? I don’t know. At that age I don’t know if what has happened is shameful or not, I just know I don’t want anyone to see it.’

‘I rush to the shower, and under the downpour I stand for a long time trying to clean myself.

When I am not scrubbing my body, I’m just standing there, angry, my tears getting washed down by the falling water.’

When she finally walks out of the shower, she finds her mom already back home.

‘My mom asks me why I am showering at that time, and I just break down into tears. I don’t know how to tell her what happened, and I don’t tell her for a very long time. Later on in the day when I finally do, she says is so sorry. And calls my dad to let him know what had happened.’

In those days Marylize’s father worked away from home, and would only come during the weekends. But on this day, after he received the news, he came home immediately.

‘The first thing he asked me was WHAT I HAD BEEN WEARING before the incident.’

She was stunned.

‘I was in my shorts! Which is what I’m always in when in the house. No one has ever said anything about them. Why did it suddenly matter?’

Her father however, was quick to point out where the ‘problem’ was.

‘I have always told you people to dress better. I have always told your mother. Now see, ‘he said.

‘What he was telling me, was that it was all my fault. Me, his daughter, had made my uncle rape me. I had called out to the perpetrator, and permitted him because of the shorts I have worn in the house for years. That with that kind of dressing, I deserved rape.’

That was it. The die had been cast. The case had been presented and judged. The victim was the guilty party. She was wrong. She could have prevented the rape by dressing more decently. It would have never happened. The verdict had been passed.

‘That was my father introducing me to the world, telling me this is how it works! That was my father, justifying his daughter’s rape. My own dad, flesh and blood, saying there’s nothing I, the victim can do, that I CAUSED IT.’

Without her father’s support, her mother could not make any independent drastic decisions.

‘I guess that is how it was back then. I feel my mother failed me.’

In that moment, something in her was born. The need to protect herself, knowing she was all she had.

‘I was bitter and angry for a while, but that was soon replaced by something more profound. The need to turn my pain into strength. Instead of my scars being a reminder of the incident, I decided to let them be a reminder that I need to make the situation better for someone else. To be a shoulder one can lean on, a source of strength. Everything I wanted but never had.’

Later on in life, as Marylize became more aware of the vast range of issues girls and women worldwide face but stay silent about, she vowed to dedicate her life to enlightening and empowering these women, with special focus on the young ones, who she was afraid might happen to go through her experience, and fail to know what to do.

‘Children are voiceless. If the parent says don’t, they don’t. If the parent says do, they do. They wouldn’t dare approach another adult and say, ‘my dad said this, or my mom made this choice for me, do you think it is okay?’ This lack of mental independence puts them at a risk.’

Marylize has been part of End FGM Campaign, that seeks to end female genital mutilation practiced in particular communities in Kenya, also Women to Kilimanjaro Campaign that aimed at educating and empowering women on land ownership issues. Marylize is also a mentor for She For She, a campaign under the national umbrella body Peace Ambassadors Kenya, and a number of other projects.

‘Soon I will be launching a programme called Through Mentorship. I intend to use mentorship to impart knowledge and empower young women on matters surrounding rape, gender based violence, FGM, sexual reproductive health and education. I want to do unto others what I wished was done for me growing up.’

Marylize describes herself as an activist first, and feminist, having made the choice even before she knew the words that described what she desires.

‘I am doing this for the rest of my life. I am willing and ready to be part of the solution.’

Tracy Mulei

Of a Failed Delivery That Turned into A Profitable Business Venture

After completing her studies at Nairobits College, Tracy Mulei found work at an IT firm, as a business developer. Life was happening just as it should; get an education, find a job, make your people proud. Tracy was determined to make it happen, and was putting her best foot forward at her place of work. Until one day a failed delivery changed her life’s course.

‘One time I sent a bodaboda rider to deliver an important document to a client. It was urgent, so I asked him not to go on any other errands till he completes mine. This didn’t happen. He was two hours late, and not picking my calls. The client was not pleased at all, neither was I’, says Tracy.

After this experience, the thought of having her own loyal delivery people crossed her mind.

‘I knew I was not the first to go through that experience. I wanted to do something about it, but I didn’t think too much of it at first.’

Tracy thought about the intricacies of running a business, and wasn’t sure if she really had the capacity. After all, she was comfortable at work and happy.

A year later however, the idea still lingered on her mind.

‘In January of 2016, I sat down and started doing my research on the delivery business. I had interacted with quite a number of people in business with similar or even worse experiences in trying to get goods delivered. I was still a little hesitant to get out of my comfortable life, but I knew if I don’t do this I will look back and regret.’

Tracy sought help from friends and family, and had Shujaa Delivery registered. She then started creating online presence for her business, by building a website and opening social media pages.

‘We live in digital world. I could not undermine the value of my business having an online presence. In fact, I planned to greatly bank on that, by making it possible for people to request for our services online.’

As the website was being done, Tracy continued doing further research on the business, creating a clear business plan and marketing strategies. ‘I wanted to be fully aware of what I’m getting into. Of course one can’t really master the business all at once, but it is better to be prepared, and this is best achieved by having as much knowledge on the industry as possible.’

On July 1st 2016 Shujaa Delivery was ready to start operations. Tracy started by dipping her toes into the water before going full in.

‘I started with one bodaboda guy, who was recommended to me by the caretaker at our office. I also asked to get resumes from different people willing to take up the job, and I would personally vet and interview them.’

She was definitely not leaving anything to chance.

‘I trained them; on Shujaa Delivery business ethics, which included keeping time and courtesy to clients. We had to be on the same page if this business was to succeed.’

Today, Shujaa Delivery boasts of 44 registered riders, serving clients primarily in Nairobi and Kiambu counties.

Has the journey been easy?

‘Not at all. I have had to change my business model several times. For instance, at the start we invested in purchasing our own motorbikes and training the riders, but this was not financially sustainable. Especially because I was looking to expand outside of Nairobi. So now we recruit people who are already in the business and train them.’

It has also been a challenge for Shujaa Delivery venturing into new markets, for instance long distance/bulk delivery.

‘I was conned by someone at the port of Mombasa, which was a big loss to the business. So I decided to focus on growing the business internally then will later venture into shipping.’

For Tracy however, it is a worthwhile experience, and Shujaa Delivery is well on its way to claiming its own space in the delivery market.

What does Tracy think stops many young people from following the self-employment route?

‘Fear of failure. What if it doesn’t work? Won’t it be a waste of time? No. It will work. Even if it doesn’t, it will not be waste of time. You will come out better, with lessons learnt that will be valuable in your next attempt.’

As we finish off the interview, I ask Tracy if she would consider seeking formal employment.

‘No. I love being in charge. It is challenging, and sometimes you might doubt yourself, but it is all worth it. I was born to be a boss, to be at the forefront in making things happen. I wouldn’t trade this for anything.’

Deborah Kisongochi

Redefining What It Means to Be a Boss in Your Twenties.

We are the millennials; labelled lazy, unreliable and indecisive by the generations that came before us. Labels I believe are untrue. There are many of us who are tearing this myth apart by working multiple jobs to make ends meet, pursuing their dreams and starting their own businesses all at the same time.

One such millennial is Deborah Nabuyena Kisongochi.

‘I am a busy girl. Business is in my DNA and I don’t know how I would function in a work environment that doesn’t challenge me, ‘Deborah says.

Debbie has not always been this focused and industrious young woman she has evolved into.

‘I joined college in 2011, and at that time I was a still daddy’s girl, assured of getting what I want, when I want it. I had no reason to get out of my comfort zone.’

‘The older you grow however, the more needs you have. I needed some extra money at school and I didn’t want to constantly call home for cash, so I decided to try out selling mitumba clothes to my friends at a profit.’

Deborah would get the clothes from Nairobi through a friend who would send them to her in Kakamega.

‘This was my first business venture and it really excited me. I loved seeing the profits-however little- coming in. Though I have to admit I was never able to save anything.’

The hunger began.

In second year of campus Deborah decided to register with Oriflame so she could buy their beauty products at affordable prices, saving her coins.

‘Then I got the info that I can actually make money with them! That was it, the business spirit in me awakened and ready. I have been an Oriflame consultant for 5 years now, an experience I totally love. ‘ At this time, Deborah was only in her second year of campus. She wasn’t about to relax and just enjoy the experience, she hungered for more; a bigger challenge.

‘I had always been a tomboy. I joined campus rocking dreadlocks and this don’t-care attitude, you know, a girl just expressing herself. But by the time I was starting my third year of college, I wanted to be a fashion model.’

From a tomboy to strutting the cat-walk in six-inch heels and dresses?

‘Yes. And I can walk in them pretty well. I didn’t just model. I also started my own modelling agency, Ingoo Models.’

This only gets better. Because of how well Ingoo Models was doing in Western Kenya, Deborah was called upon to be part of the judging panel of a number of modelling gigs in the region, including the 2015 Mr. and Miss KMTC beauty pageant.

‘You see what happens with me is when I go into a business or venture, I go in with the whole of me. I give it my all. I don’t know how to do 50-50. If I am not going to give it my best, I’d rather not start at all.’

Modelling, Oriflame, a little business here and there, soon, Deborah was out of campus and thrust into the ‘real’ world.

‘I studied Journalism, my dream career, and this is what I intended to pursue once I am done with school.’

So Deborah went ahead and applied for an internship at TV Magharibi, an upcoming television station in Bungoma County.

‘I got the opportunity and set out to make an impact within this new space. During my period at Magharibi, I conceptualized and hosted Magharibi Wedding show, which focused on weddings around western Kenya. I continued with this dream when I later moved to Tandao Television where I worked as reporter and host of Tandao Wedding Show.’

She also set out to start her own business empire, Deyena Enterprise.

‘I registered Deyena enterprise on Ecitizen, paid for the certificate and started operations!’

Deborah is quick to note that what holds back many young people is lack of knowledge and drive.

‘Like for example, many youths don’t know about Ecitizen, and many other online platforms that are there to help us out. Yet we call ourselves the tech- savvy generation! We are afraid to start because we don’t know, and are afraid to try, and that’s sad.’

‘I am currently the manager, CEO, sales person, accountant, office messenger and everything in between. I am not complaining. I wanted this, I have a vision I must achieve.’

Away from all the busy-ness Deborah, what do you do?

‘I love cooking, so I experiment a lot with food. Also going on short nature walks to refresh my mind and do some soul-searching. I am pretty much a laid back person.’

As I finish my interview with a millennial who doesn’t care about labels and tags, I ask one final question, what does she think is we need to work on as the young generation?

‘We are in our comfort zones. Happy with an average life, average money, averagely worked on dreams, and average people around us, average everything. The moment you’ll start seeing the problem with being average, you’ll start working hard.’

I couldn’t have put it better.

Cera Kieha

Of Marrying Together Your Passions; When The Dream Comes Calling

How many times have you thought of finally following your heart’s desires, but stopped the thought-trail because of the challenges you imagine you will face, or have already faced in that quest?

As young as 10, she already knew what she wanted to do with herself, had a plan, a vision, a dream to pursue. Ten years later, after walking a different path, she is finally trying to get back on track, working every day to feed the hunger in her soul.

‘Even at a young age, my role models were women in media, from Julie Gichuru to Tyra Banks to Oprah to Catherine Kasavuli and Sophie Ikenye. And every time I watched these phenomenal women do their job, I could feel that the media is exactly where I wanted to be. I wanted to host a show, speak in front of the cameras, write stories, something along those lines.’

Doubts about her dream career however set in when she joined high school.

‘I didn’t attend a prestigious high school. We didn’t have clubs that nurtured ‘fancy’ careers like journalism. So I kept my little dream close to my heart until one day the teacher asked us in class what we would like to be when we grow up’ More than half the class wanted to be journalists.

‘My first reaction was, ‘why do all these people want the same thing as me? We don’t even have a journalism club or extracurricular activities that support this! I felt we were just a bunch of girls in a district school with an impossible dream. Girls in better schools stood more chance at realizing this dream than we did. So I put it aside.’

In addition to the feeling that her school really did not ‘qualify’ for such ‘glamorous’ careers, Cera felt the field was too crowded, seeing as so many girls wanted to pursue journalism.

‘How many media houses did I know then? Very few. How many of us want to be pursue journalism? Too many. I wasn’t ready for that kind of hassle.’

However, when time came for college courses application, Cera went for it, and applied for Media Science at the Moi Univeristy.

‘I qualified for government sponsorship, but then the setback sometimes is you probably end up studying what the government thinks is best for you. So I ended up with Political Science and Economics at the University of Nairobi.’

Another sign that she should give up?

‘I was a little disappointed, but then got consolation from the fact that University of Nairobi has always been my dream university, and also I liked business studies, a little math here and there, and politics. So it wasn’t so much a tragedy.’

The first year was great, but at the end of her second year, Cera’s childhood dreams started haunting her.

There she was, already pursuing economics, what options did she really have?

‘I figured I was never going to get a job at a media house, not with what I was studying. With that thought noted and set aside, I started looking for ways to feed my hunger, in my own little way.’

The first thing she set her mind to do was start a YouTube talk show.

‘Because of watching a lot of Tyra Banks I guess. I set out to get a videographer who would work with me on this, but the prices they quoted were way above what I had in mind. This was definitely not an idea I could afford. But I was not going to give up this time, not that easily. I was tired of giving in to the excuses. The field is crowded, fine! I chose a different career path, fine! I cannot afford a videographer, fine! But I am not stopping this time. If I don’t do something now, then I will never do anything about it. ‘ It is said that when you finally hunger for something, you find a way, not excuses. Cera did just that.

‘I love writing as well, that’s solution one. I love fashion, solution two. Combined together, I could start my own fashion blog or online fashion store.’

She did both.

‘I Googled ‘how to start a blog’, opened an account with blogspot. Later on I bought a domain and designed Cerakieha.com myself. However, my other venture, the store closed last year, but very grateful for the lessons I acquired in running that kind of business, and very proud that I finally put aside my fears and self doubt and DID SOMETHING. Very important.’

Running her blog however, hasn’t been so much of a walk in the park.

‘It is easy to give up or be a little lazy when running a blog, and this is dangerous. Consistency is key. It is not just about your readers staying with you, but also to see that you grow. You get better at something if you are constantly doing it, day in day out. Otherwise you might not realize the end goal.’

What next for the blog?

‘We are moving onto a totally new platform. I want the blog to be an online magazine. So I will be expanding the contents, starting from the categories we currently have to new interesting segments that will keep my readers glued, and new ones interested.’Cera is more than glad that finally, she made the choice.

‘This is my own little way of living my dream. I had to do it at some point, glad I finally am.’

Here On Grandma’s Doorstep…

Lovine Mboya

I share this piece often because it is true to the title, I wrote it sitting on my grandma's doorstep.

I didn't think I would publish till much later, when I looked at the memories I had penned down, scenes and thoughts I would love to remember. I’d love to be on my grandma’s doorstep again, and observe and write more. Hopefully this time, about myself. Ha. ………………..

The funny thing about being in shagz is that no matter how simple and outdated the way of life is, you find a lot of peace and satisfaction in that environment. I know a friend who is always travelling upcountry to find peace, something he insists does not exist in the city.

My cousin, Morgan, whips a cow, briefly runs after it and stops just where I am sitting. On my grandmother’s veranda.

‘Morgan, idhi nade?’ (How are you doing Morgan?)

‘Adhi maber.’ (I am well) His face draws on a sweet, genuine, smile, and he brushes his feet on the soil to show he is glad I said hi. Morgan is about 7 years old, and already can command the bulls to move and they obey; show them where to graze. He tells me he knows them all by name. His favourite is Kajwang’, a fat, black bull with terrible mood swings. Kajwang’ is named after a Luo politician who coincidentally passed away at the time he (the bull) was bought from the market. Kajwang’ seems to like Morgan, he doesn’t charge after him like he does the heifers. Why would a bull want to fight heifers anyway? Misplaced hormones.

Morgan runs after Kajwang’ and whips him again. Kajwang’ ignores, and instead goes on to leisurely sniff the ass of a brown cow. Morgan sits down on a rock, stares at a group of children playing in the next homestead. They are also my cousins. Everyone is my cousin or uncle or grandfather around here. We are all relatives. But we rarely say much to one another.

Once upon a time many years ago, there was a lot to say. There would be family gatherings and feasts over the December holidays. There was laughter and joy all around. That is no more. The stories died with the people. Our fathers who were left moved to the big cities in search of greener pastures. Life became quiet, conversations in hushed tones.

So this December, like many that have passed, will be a quiet one. Unless they (the older generation) call for a get-together. My grandmother says people nowadays come home only to bury someone.

I’m sitting on her veranda waiting to see if a motorbike will roll down the opposite hill carrying someone with a bag of sugar and some cooking oil. Grandma’s house is at the top of a small hill, surrounded by many other similar ones. If you sit at her doorstep, you’re able to see someone coming from Oyugis town on a motorbike, or on foot, or in a car. Whatever means they choose, they have to go through the opposite hill, and up the one that leads to grandma’s house. If your eyes are good enough, you’ll even be able to tell who it is from a distance.

While sitting on my grandma’s doorstep you’re also able to see the only developed school in the area, where all my fathers and forefathers sat for their CPE. Initially it was only a primary school, but they got funds and expanded it to host a secondary school for both boys and girls.

I am yet to find out the statistics of kids from the village that actually go to school, because I never see any youths around. Only people of my grandmother’s age pounding their millet, or young married women balancing twenty litre jerry cans on their heads, and very young children like my cousin Morgan, running after Kajwang’ and his mates. The youth probably got tired of the deafening silence and like our fathers, left for the big cities in search of greener pastures.

Morgan stands up, walks after his herd, driving them down the slope toward the stream. He is bare feet, and his shirt stretches all the way to his fat knees, so that you wouldn’t know if he is actually wearing anything inside, or the oversized shirt serves all purpose.

He whistles as his silhouette disappears down the hill, lifting his whip once in a while to guide back a stray cow.

He is a happy boy.

Otieno Ogeda

On Climbing to The Top of the Career Ladder, Losing Everything and Starting All Over Again

In 2005, he packed his bags and set off in search of greener pastures in Sudan. Little did he know the greener pastures would turn into arid land, and he would later run back to Kenya to save his own life.

We talk to Otieno Ogeda, founder and Managing Editor of the Corporate Newspaper South Sudan, once a popular weekly print and online newspaper that focused on all matters business.

‘I used to teach English at a commercial college in Nairobi, and one day a couple of my students, who were South Sudanese, invited me to their country. The mission was to go teach the nationals English, as the country prepared for the signing of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement, ‘says Ogeda.

To him at that time, this was a big deal. He would be practicing his teaching at a whole new level, now focusing on introducing the Queen’s language to a people who had very little prior exposure.

In addition, it would be in a new country, guaranteeing a whole new experience, and hopefully, with better wages.

‘I would later find myself working for a community based organization called Cush Relief International(CCRI) founded by a South Sudanese with major funding by the USAID.’ The organization’s empowerment mission started out in villages located in the then former Jonglei State which bordered Ethiopia in Eastern side of Southern Sudan, now independently South Sudan. Ogeda and his team implemented education, health and sanitation programs in the region.

‘I spent a lot of time learning the people’s way of life, beliefs, and systems. I am a trained journalist and with the experience I had gained in South Sudan’s market and dynamics, I ventured out to start my first business in media, The Advertiser, a newspaper solely for advertisements.’

The Advertiser however did not last long, due to misunderstanding between Ogeda and his business partner.

‘I felt I was being short-changed in the deal, details of which I might not indulge in. So I left the paper to my business partner and moved on to found The Corporate Newspaper. This was in 2013.’

At the start of the publication, Ogeda solely handled the news gathering, editing, marketing and distribution.

‘I could have employed a few people to help me out, but at that time I couldn’t afford paying salaries, or at least compensation for their efforts. I was just starting out and I needed to get the paper on its feet first.’

The Cooperate Newspaper mainly featured business stories, in a country rife with political tension. Ogeda explains that for a country that had just come out of civil war, politics was risky waters to waddle in.

‘Also because of the war, we lacked basic infrastructure. Printing machines were not available and we had to cross the border to print our newspapers in neighbouring countries.’

Once sourcing of stories, writing, editing and printing had been done, getting the papers in circulation proved a challenge. He would do the printing overnight in Nairobi, and then ship the papers back to South Sudan by plane to ensure timely distribution within the country.

‘The Corporate Newspaper was a free copy paper, depending entirely on advertisers for revenue.’

Then war broke out. Again.

‘People were closing shop, businesses scaling down, people running to peaceful neighbouring countries. It was chaos.’

And then another big hit.

‘The government devalued South Sudanese Pounds by about 100 percent. That meant the cash at hand at that particular time lost value by about the same percentage. For instance, if you had the equivalent of one million shillings, after the devaluation, the cash automatically came down to about Ksh. 100,000. This totally made no business sense.’

That was the final stroke. Otieno says he was sure there was nothing left for him to do in South Sudan. He could not save the paper, or its sister publication, The Investor, a monthly paper he had rolled out just after Cooperate Newspaper.

‘I packed my bags, and although I experienced challenges in getting back to Kenya, I was glad to set foot in my country.’

‘Life is funny, and quite unpredictable. I was the employer, now I am an employee. I take it in good stride, though. Life is a learning journey. Squeeze out the lesson in every experience’ Away from the hustles of life, Otieno Ogeda is a physical trainer, using his skills and experience as a fitness enthusiast in helping clients maintain healthy bodies, by keeping fit.

‘I have seen those who adopt a healthier lifestyle achieving their dream bodies through my input, that makes me feel quite accomplished. Fitness requires commitment, that’s all. Commit yourself, every hour, every day, and you will get there’.

So what happened to The Cooperate Newspaper?

‘The Corporate is now digital, accessed on www.thecorporate-weekly.com, with focus now on the larger East Africa, not just South Sudan. The world has moved digital; a sober business can only ride on the wave.

For Otieno Ogeda, the dream does not die.

‘Till my days are over. Otherwise, let’s do it!’

Billian Ojiwa

The Man Behind Ficha Uchi Campaign, and Why He Believes It’s #ImpossibleNot

Growing up in the slums, losing both parents at a very young age, getting kicked out of school because of lack of school fees, waiting tables during the day and selling cigarettes at night to make ends meet, he has been through it all. Today, he is the man behind Ficha Uchi Campaign, an initiative that has provided school uniforms to over 3,000 underprivileged children from the slums of Kenya, in schools spread across Kenya.

‘I grew up both in the village and Mathare because my parents separated when we were still very young. At the beginning things were not so bad. My father was a primary school teacher, and my mother would make batik drawings and sell at Maasai market. We were stable, I think.

We went to school like other kids, had food to eat. We were alright.’

Then tragedy struck. Billian’s dad passed on, and even before the family could come to terms with the loss, his mother followed eleven months later.

‘I had just joined Form One, and it was during the April holidays which I was spending with mom in Nairobi when dad passed. Even before I had gotten over this mom followed. I was devastated.

I transitioned from this lively young boy to a depressed loner.’

As the eldest child, responsibility for his two sisters and brother automatically fell on his shoulders.

‘I had to grow up quick and find ways to keep us afloat.’

With this in mind, Billian opted to help his grandmother burn and sell charcoal in the village.

‘This kind of life really toughens you. Transitioning from a once comfortable life to living from hand to mouth teaches you lessons you’d otherwise never have learnt in life. You not only become physically able to do heavier tasks than children your age, you also become quite strong mentally. I can say it is really hard to break my spirit.’

Despite his unrelenting spirit and support from his grandmother, things only got worse for the family.

‘The charcoal business was not enough to pay our school fees and feed us at the same time. My grandma decided to sell her cow to cover some expenses but things were just not adding up. I stopped going to school, we all did. It pained me that my sisters were not able to join high school because of the challenges we were facing.’

With all options spent, his eldest sister opted to get married so as to be able to support the family.

She was only about 15 years old at this time, and had just cleared Std. Eight.

‘All Brency ever wanted was to make things better for us. To ensure at least we had food to eat and able to go to school. She worked so hard, practically sacrificed so that we could live to tell a different story.’

The family did not see the next blow coming. Three years into her marriage, Brency passed on.

‘I was there when she passed on. I watched her go. I don’t know if I can ever find words to talk about that particular period, but when she died so many things in me died with her. I don’t think I have ever recovered from that experience.’

At this time Billian had managed to clear high school, but because of the huge fee balance he had, was not able to pick his KCSE certificate.

‘At that time with a KCSE certificate I would have been able to get menial jobs here and there, something to keep us going. Since that wasn’t possible, and my brother needed to join high school, I worked as a waiter at my aunt’s small kiosk hotel.

After getting his KCSE certificate Billian was able to secure a job promoting airtime for a commission. At night, he would hawk cigarettes in clubs around Nairobi and Machakos. The money he made went to paying his younger brother’s school fees until he was able to clear high school.

‘Something had to be done, and the person to do it was me.’

The universe saw his determination and smiled upon him.

‘As a young boy I had wanted to be a priest, but my grandmother could hear none of that.

Afterwards I changed my mind and wanted to be a soldier, inspired by the many people in our family who are in the armed forces. Then I changed my mind again, I wanted to pursue music!’

With his brother done with school now, he was able to join a youth group in Mathare where he intended to pursue his music interests. Billian says it was during one of his freestyle performances in the slum that NTV’s Lolani Kalu saw his talent, took him to a studio in Dagoretti corner and paid for the recording of his first song.

‘Afterwards I would perform at different events in Mathare and my friend Elijah Kanyi offered to do my first music video for free.’

This journey also saw the birth of a number of other songs, including Don’t Stop featuring his friend Steph from the United States and Leisure featured Lenny, a Canadian friend.

It was also during this period that he started Billian Music Family, a hub that nurtures young musical talents in Mathare. The music family also supports member kids’ education through scholarships and partnerships with well-wishers.

Still, Billian felt there is something else he needed to do.

‘I was still looking for something in my life, and was not surprised when I discovered that serving others in whatever capacity gave me immense satisfaction, a joy I had never experienced before. So I made my final decision, to be a servant of the people.’

Ficha Uchi Campaign was birthed during this period.

‘My inspiration for starting Ficha Uchi Campaign came from my own story. I was one of those kids who’d always show up at school with worn out shorts and shirts. This was quite embarrassing. Especially when fellow classmates start making fun of your ‘torches’, the name we gave the gaping holes in our sweaters and shorts that exposed our nakedness.’

With the support of his friends in Mathare, Billian set out to identify the first children that would benefit from the initiative.

‘It had to be Mathare. I have grown up in Mathare, experienced firsthand having to make do with the uniform you have. If I walked in shame of my torn shorts, then that walk of shame was done in this hood. I had to start here.’

The campaign picked up slowly at first, then gradually, as more people understood Billian’s vision and mission, they joined in.

‘We have so far managed to provide new school uniforms to over 2, 700 pupils across the country. This year we aim to reach even more counties in Kenya, having done our first missions outside Nairobi last year in Kakamega and Bondo Counties.’

In addition to restoring the dignity of the children in the slums, Ficha Uchi Campaign also conducts mentorship sessions and sports tournaments to empower the young boys and girls.

Last year the campaign launched university chapters, to aid in planning and distribution of resources across even more regions.

‘You know after my parents died I asked myself so many questions, like what am I really here for? Does the world really need and want me? But I found that when you give yourself to the service of other people, a lot of these things stop weighing you down. When I see a child smile, or dance with joy, or come to ask me when I’ll bring them more uniforms, I feel content.’

Billian’s journey to fulfilling his purpose is not about to stop. As he works on positively influencing the life of another, he is actually changing his narrative. From that of a child who had no hope, who’s life felt meaningless, to that of a man shining a candle to illuminate the lives of those who come after him. ‘#ImpossibleNot is my slogan. I believe nothing is impossible.’

Brian Ochieng’

From The Streets, And Back to The Streets; This Time, For A Different Reason

‘I was 6 when I ran away from home. I stayed with my mother and a step-father who made it clear that I was not his son and not welcome in his house. Life at home was unbearable, so I left.’

A six-year-old child, roaming the streets of Nairobi, looking for a place to call home, someone who can hold his hand; nothing. No one. The world outside did not welcome him.

‘I would walk into hotels and restaurants and beg for leftover food just so I can get by. I was not the only one, though. One thing being homeless teaches you is the value of nurturing friendships.

We were like family. You find something to eat, you share. Tomorrow you might not be lucky, and another will share with you.

The friends did not just come with food, Brian says, they also came with substances to make life in the cold, dark alleys more bearable.

‘I started using drugs. First you do it because a friend is doing it, and you are no better than him so why not? Then it becomes an addiction. You need it to stay sane.’

Inwardly, Brian longed for a chance to go to school. To get out of the streets and make a meaningful life for himself.

‘I did not want to be there, to live that life. But where would I go? And what even guarantees that I will be accepted and loved where I went? My own home where my mother lived had become unbearable, what better thing awaited me away from the streets? I had more questions than answers.’

For seven years, Brian held onto the dream.

In this period of questioning, through a friend Brian got to know about an organization called Made In The Street, who took in and supported kids from the streets.’

‘I could not pass over an opportunity to expose myself to school. But I was too young because the organization only took in children of 13 years of age and above, and I was about 10. I could only attend their programs, till I was of age.’

Once they took him in, Brian was overjoyed, but also sceptical.

‘A lot had to change about me. The life I had known for years had to go.’

First, Brian could no longer access the drugs he depended on. Second, he had to abide by rules, and suddenly was tasked with the responsibility of thinking about ‘dreams’ and working towards achieving them.

‘It is not an easy transition. I was confused for a while, but I think because deep inside I had always longed for a way out, I was determined to stay and see what happens.’

After completing his primary school education, Brian got a job at the school as a cook, where he nurtured his passion for preparing sumptuous meals.

‘I had always wanted to be a chef. Of course we did not cook in the streets, we ate from bins but I found it interesting how food brings people together and builds friendships. He who has food is king’.

At the school, he practiced his trade for 3 years, before enrolling for cooking classes at Nairobi Aviation College to polish his knowledge and skills. There, he spent one year.

‘After my education, I started sending out CVs to different places, but nothing was looking up.’

This was until a friend and sponsor of Made In The Street heard his story, and offered him a job at Ocean Basket Kenya.

‘I was finally living the dream. From the streets to being a chef at such a prestigious hotel. I was happy.’

He now had a job, a decent house, and even more importantly, he now had freedom and choice.

‘I could now say; I want this; I don’t want this. Which had never been the case. When you have nothing, you don’t get to choose, you take what is available and on offer. A beggar does not choose. So knowing I am at a point where I have options was exhilarating.’

Brian was happy, but, there soon developed a little problem. A big problem actually.

‘I felt there was one more thing I needed to do. And that was doing unto others the good that had been done unto me. I had to go back to the streets and help my friends out.’

Every day after work, Brian would walk through the streets of Nairobi, talking to his former ‘comrades’ and helping them where he could.

‘I decided to make this a movement. So that many more benefit, rather than the number I could manage on my own. In 2013 I started Love for A Street Child, and opened a Facebook page which I used to communicate and call out to well-wishers to join in.’

The more he did for the street families, the more he felt a growing need to fully dedicate himself to helping out these families.

‘One morning I went to my boss and told him I wanted to quit. He couldn’t believe me. He could not believe I was going to let go of my dreams, exchange a comfortable life for one of wading in unsure waters in the name of volunteerism and philanthropy.’

His mind was made up. Brian explains that more than anything else, he believed in the young boys and girls surviving on their own in the streets.

‘I wasn’t rich or anything. And giving is not about you being rich, but realizing that there are people who have nothing at all.’

On October 15th 2016, Brian officially quit his job and embarked on his new mission to support street families.

‘I started out by partnering with friends who were also on the same mission.’

Brian also acknowledges the challenges that come with running a charity organization.

‘The biggest issue is funding. I still depend on partnerships with friends. I cannot do this alone, it will be better and have more impact if we do this together. I call upon any organizations and well-wishers who would like to be part of this. We will really appreciate the support.’

Clearly, for Brian, the journey has just begun.

‘I believe in this mission. I believe in these kids. Someone believed in me, look at me now. My life is different because someone set out to make that difference. I believe in this journey.’

Victor Kegengo

The Reality of Life After Campus

In 2014, just a few months to completing his Degree course at Masinde Muliro University, Victor Kegengo did what every other soon-to-be graduate does, send out mass job applications. He was excited at this new life that awaited him, the future looked bright, and he felt ready to tackle the job market.

‘It never crossed my mind that getting a job would be hard. I expected maybe not to find one immediately, but I was hopeful. I had no worries. I maintained a positive spirit with every email I sent out to prospective employers.’

Then last day of school came, and out into the job market he went.

‘The first six months gave me a quick reality check. No positive response whatsoever from all the thousands of emails I had sent. I decided to take a driving course to while the time away. I was already getting a bit frustrated, as my family was really looking up to me. Here I was, 8-4-4 completed, but what do I have to show for it?’

Victor also took up jobs waiting tables at local cafes, which brought in very little income, and he had to seek an alternative.

‘I opted to try my hand in farming. I planted cabbages, kales and onions which I sold in local markets in Kisii Town. The first harvest was good, but in the second planting season the rains failed and I was back to square one.’

Just as he was on the verge of giving up, he got called for a job as a tutor at a college in Kisii Town, where he taught business courses for six months. This new job however, could not settle his basic expenses, sometimes not even his Kes. 3,000 rented room in Kisii.

‘At some point my landlord threw me out because of accrued rent debts. I desperately needed a way out of the mess of a life I was living. I tried my hand in football gambling and would use the money won to settle debts. I also tried online academic writing which really helped.’

None of these things Victor was doing to make ends meet were what he’d studied for, nor what he wanted to do with his life.

‘I am the first child of my parents. My father is a teacher and my mother did not have any source of income. She had a small farm where she planted food for consumption at home. I have two siblings who are much younger than me. I was the family’s hope.’

Victor remembers that at that time he would look up what some of his campus friends were up to, and would find out some got jobs immediately after campus, others had travelled to other countries for further studies, some were married with stable families while there were those just as jobless and searching as he was.

‘I think just like our fingers; people can never be equal. We are served different dishes at different times in life, and at that time, life had chosen that dish for me.’

What did he try next?

‘I got an opportunity to do marketing for Keroche Breweries. This was short-lived however after my then boss swindled all my dues. I had worked for 3 months without pay. I quit and was back to square one.’

This happened to be last stroke to Victor’s misery and bad luck in the job market.

‘I applied for a job at Tusker Mattresses Limited Trading (brand name Tuskys Supermarket) and started off as an intern. I was so determined to make this work and put my best foot forward. I was soon promoted to supervisor and began training for a managerial position..’

This opportunity has definitely been a great relief to Victor Kegengo, but his journey does not stop there.

‘I definitely want more from life. I am currently pursuing my Master’s Degree in Finance. I am grateful that life finally smiled on me and I can pay my bills, I do not take it for granted.’

A word for the young people who find themselves in the same situation today?

‘The days of Serikali Saidia are over. The one million jobs promised by the government are a fallacy. But we would appreciate if it (the government) provides an enabling environment to do business as most youth have now embraced entrepreneurship.’

Victor emphasizes on the importance of embracing the Internet in seeking opportunities.

‘There’s so much one can achieve with Facebook and Twitter, including managing such accounts for brands. That could be a source of income as you await better opportunities.’

When he’s not busy doing his part in building the nation, Victor Kegengo enjoys watching wrestling(WWE) on TV. ‘In another life, or maybe just in this one, I would pursue Journalism. I have great interest and passion for the media.’

Parting shot?

‘Success is 30% effort and 70% attitude. Work more on your attitude towards life, it could be what’s holding you back.’

WITH THANKS…

About Lovine Mboya

Christine A. Lovine Mboya is a writer, digital content creator, and freelance communications consultant who hopes to one day write a bestseller; a collection of the stories in her heart.

Lovine has worked as writer/screenwriter for several platforms, including as scriptwriter for Ms. President Reality TV series, and as contributor for Tembea Magazine, Business Today, and her own personal platforms.

Lovine is currently working on a collection of success stories, real life experiences of people she has met and interacted with in her line of work.

When she is not writing, volunteering, or creating digital content; she is reading biographies (her favourite genre), getting some sleep or battling procrastination.

About Lovine Mboya

Lovine believes stories are powerful; they shape narratives, ideas and culture, and consequently become the accepted reality of a people, a place.

Stories are important, and just as important, are the people we allow tell them.