A journey of a thousand miles that begins with a simple cry of innocence, it’s a journey of a lifetime that began on 29th day of the month of Aries and a at time when a noble mind amidst the elite Kenyans was slain the greedy corrupt hands of the government to make a statement of the true era of autocracy in my motherland. The country had lost Dr. Robert ouko. In the arms of a beautiful lady I felt the warmth of a mother and true to her luo African culture she blessed me with the surname of my late grandfather, opondo, a man with a free spirit and charismatic wisdom. A first-born child to a single mother, I take a moment of silence as I look over the horizon to think about the strides I have made to get this close yet it seems so far to my destination.
With nostalgia blowing candles with one wish at the age of four lingers vividly in my mind as the first memory of my realization that indeed I was in existence and in a mirror I could see myself. Love is kind and generous, on this day four years down the line since I was born it felt so good to celebrate my life with those whom we shared family love and true friendship. Even though mum was not around, at the coastal town of Mombasa she toiled with sweat as a nurse to see that I was feed and well. Aunty Ruth, it also felt good and courteous to call her ‘mum’ because of the sweet tenderness that kept a smile on my face even when my mother was a mile away from me.
She provided me with the best that she could provide, a humble shelter in hurlingham in the city of Nairobi, good educational foundation at st. Anne’s academy it wasn’t a bad start in my life. When you go to Rome you do what the romans do, born in Orthodox Church her family fellowshipped with the seventh day Adventist church and we all serve one god so it was no hustle for me to adjust and keep the faith every Saturday. Luck or just a blessing I know I was at the right place at the right time, the only son to my mother I was also the only son to my aunt amongst her two biological daughters. She natured me and raised me like I was her very own and indeed I satisfied her craving for a son as I shared my life with her.
A few years down the line it was time to go home and start life with my mother, not a stranger to me but it felt like venturing into new sphere of life. In whole new environment of Kisumu town it felt so different, maybe it was a culture shock yet this was my hometown and my dad’s place of origin. To date the beauty of the sunset at dusk has remained a constant reminder that this is home at the lake shores of the far west of my motherland.
Education is basic pillar in the life of every individual my country as we strive to gain a stable establishment in life. Systems run with protocol in this country and I had to enroll into a new school and I was fortunate enough by the virtue of capability to get a place in arya primary school and for the forthcoming eight years I had to study hard for my certificate of primary education. At this point I began to explore myself and how resourceful I could be to my curriculum.
It was a whole new setup for me because I remember so well that we first had to harbor at my other aunts place in the historic estate of ondiek. I was young and I couldn’t understand much at this time neither did I have a clue of who my real dad was. She was my mother’s cousin brought up as sisters their bond was strong for anyone to notice the difference. Her house was quite small compared to my previous home but we to manage and continue with life.
Mum got employed at the aga khan hospital in Kisumu and from her salary she saved up as should aspired to have her house with me in this town. We could go shop for utensils and little other stuff that we could have needed when eventually move out. It was quite unfortunate that on the same year I lost my granddad on my mother’s side and my grandma on my dad’s side of kin. First we had to travel to nyakach, my mother’s place of birth, to pay last respects to my granddad and I remember meeting my various aunts for the first time.
They found it difficult to converse with comfortably because I only knew how to speak one language, English! I wasn’t to blame for this but where I was first brought in Nairobi speaking English was the order of the day. A week or two that’s longest we stayed there then we had to travelled back home to Kisumu and a dark cloud loomed again over my family with the passing my grandma. I think this was the first time I travelled to my father’s home in kajulu, twenty minutes’ drive from the business district of Kisumu. I knew nothing about this place only then did it become clear to me that there was more than what my eyes could see
