From Kenya to the United States as a Teenager

What I Learned from My Mom

I vividly remember growing up in a hut thatched with grass and pieces of wood. My two sisters and I lived there with our parents, and it did not occur to us that there might be anything better. It was a way of life. We played hide and seek every day, even though there was no place to hide. We were hungry to play, so we created our own fun with excitement. Sometimes we got hurt by the poles around the hut, especially me, as my sisters and I played.

My parents and grandparents had a strong work ethic and respect for elders, and they instilled in us kids a respect for our playmates. The most we wanted was to be at peace with our parents and grandparents, because obedience was very important in those days.

The amazing thing, as I look back, was that we all slept on the floor of the hut, except my dad and mom. They made their own bed with sticks that had strings tied across them. In that hut, we also had calves, goats, sheep, chickens, dogs, and cats. When all the animals urinated on the dirt at night, we slept on that. We didn't know anything better, but I wanted more because I hated that kind of lifestyle. I don't know whether my sisters thought beyond where we were.

One thing I recall was that respect for parents and all people was so important, more than anything else I can remember. We were taught in the villages that if you cannot listen to the teaching and be willing to learn it from your elders, you will be worthless in life. Yes, a few kids deviated from the coaching, and they were cast out by the family. Their lives had no direction.

I had two grandmas. Grandma Mary Kamene was on my dad's side. She was so gracious to all the grandkids, and she always wanted me to pray with her. She was a Salvation Army church member but devoted to salvation for her family. Grandma Miriam Munyiva was on my mom's side. Grandma Miriam was different because whatever she said, she did precisely. She always said I was the most loving grandson, more than all the other grandkids. She and I preached early in the morning on the mountains and prayed together. She was a member of the African Inland Church (AIC). Both grandmas, my mom and dad, and the villagers encouraged me to do the best in life and help others who had a dream or a vision in their lives.

Now I understand the simple teaching I received from my parents, grandparents, and the villagers when they said, "Rain beats a leopard's skin, but it does not wash out the spots." Life can challenge us in so many ways, but it doesn't have to destroy our dreams, our teachings, or our beliefs.

Yes, I have gone through many trials and errors. As I have experienced my life, sometimes it feels as if I have tried everything except leprosy. It is enough to appreciate life and learn more so I can pass it on to others.

The more people we are willing to touch in life, the better off we are in our own lives and the better off we are financially. Life is lived only once. The more we live it with love, the better life gets. We are always finding new friends. I have learned how to expand my friendships instead of criticizing others. Do not judge people; no one who is alive is perfect.

For many years, I tried to find out how poor we were in my family. Sometimes we went without food for as long as four days. From day one, we were taught that "family affairs were not talked about in public squares." In other words, family affairs should not be talked about with just anyone, but only with the people you trust, who are your mentors and who are willing to help you or recommend you to someone else who can help. In the twenty-first century, there is no privacy; we let it out to the public square. Eventually, I came to realize we were so poor that "we spelt poor with five O's." That's very poor. My family never talked about how poor we were but instead lived with hope. The hope was in their children that one day they would grow up and make a difference in their lives and in the lives of others.

Even though we were poor, we kids could tell that our Dad, Mom, and our grandparents on both sides loved us and that nothing could separate us. I also had two grandfathers. My grandpa Mbinda, on my mom's side, was a businessman selling refined African tobacco. I used to go with him to the market fifteen miles away to sell tobacco. My grandpa Tumbo was a storyteller.

Grandpa Tumbo was an amazing man. He got the family together from time to time and spoke his philosophy to the all of us. When Grandpa talked, you could hear a pin drop. There were no interruptions. Grandpa Tumbo was a loving and very hardworking man. He loved his entire family, and the tribe liked him because when the conversation got boring, he made it exciting.

Here is one meaning of the word proverb: a proverb is the horse of conversation; when the conversation lags, a proverb will revive it. That was Grandpa Tumbo. He had so much wisdom, more than anyone else I have met. One thing Grandpa Tumbo taught me was to never quit on anything you start as long as it affects people or changes people's lives. Grandpa Tumbo was a man of courage and patience, but he could not stand cowards who surrendered when faced with challenges.

Other grandkids were older than I was and had more advanced reading skills than I had, but every time Grandpa talked I wrote down everything he said. Grandpa Tumbo taught us so much; that is why I am writing this book—to share his wisdom. Grandpa Tumbo taught all his grandkids this: "A roaring lion kills no game." If you have no dreams or passion, or you are not willing to go after your dreams with passion, it is all just talk.

Grandpa's belief was that no matter what we were going through, we should always be learning. Why did I pay attention to Grandpa? Was I an amazing grandkid? Indeed, I was not, but I think I had a vision to serve others, and I did not care about the cost. Here is something Grandpa Tumbo said over and over, and I will never forget it: "One cannot both feast and become rich." We have to be committed to something and pursue it until we achieve it.

Grandpa, with two hundred grandkids, said so many times, "The cricket cries all the year around, but the year changes." I have heard this saying more than two thousand times: "I will do this and that when things get better." What is important is to have a purpose or a dream and to think of it every day. This is why so many people waste their valuable lives waiting. Without a dream, they end up with a job starting from the bottom and end up at the bottom financially. Dream big.

I spent so much time with my grandpa Tumbo, and I am so glad I did. Here is my conclusion about Grandpa Tumbo—he was a man of integrity and an open-minded man. He taught all his grandkids the proverb that "he who lives with an ass, makes noises like an ass." It is so amazing that in America 95 percent of people believe that a job will bring financial freedom. Here is the sad thing—that we foreigners are getting rich and people born in this country are going backward. Why? Grandpa Tumbo told us that "a single stick may smoke but will not burn."

My grandpa Tumbo taught us that "to be without a friend is to be poor, indeed." Let's create friends and love them.

Grandpa Tumbo was a man of gracious integrity and action. Let's be truthful in life. Let me be precise from my grandpa Tumbo on what he taught us: "Two eyes see better than one eye."

Finally, Grandpa taught us this: "Good millet is known at the harvest."

A great gift I inherited from my parents was something my grandpa taught us, and that is, "Let your love be like the misty rain, coming softly but flooding the river." What Grandpa meant was to love and not look for any credit or appraisal from anyone, but to count it in your heart and continue doing so until you reach a few who are willing to change the world. Any one of us can change the world if we have a dream and want it badly enough to learn and take action for our purpose every day. Mom and Dad did not know how to read or write, but they learned through their parents' beliefs and philosophy. They were taught not to just settle for anything but to believe you can be anything you want to be, if you choose to be and you are hungry for it.

Our gracious mom had great wisdom from her mom, Miriam, who was a strong believer. Mom watched over us kids in the evenings, and she knew we were hungry. Grandma Miriam taught her how to comfort us during times of hunger or in any bad situation. If we did not go to bed, she told us that if we went to sleep we would not be hungry anymore.

I also learned from this that people who are hungry stay up late, and the ones who are not hungry go to sleep. In life, if you are hungry you will be up in action, and if you are not hungry you will go to sleep and do nothing. In my experience, the people who make a difference in other people's lives are hungry and active.

Be hungry and go for actions, and fear will lessen. Why do I say this? My grandpa said it better than I: "Wood already touched by the fire is not hard to set alight." If you have a purpose with action, it's not hard to see the results. Action is the key to getting what you want in life. When you have the hunger, you go after what you want.

Grandpa said, "A man with too much ambition cannot sleep in peace." If we are hungry, we are going to be in action with fear or without fear. I have been hungry, and I know that when you are hungry, you can do anything. Hunger creates actions.

Here is the point I want to make for you and me. When I decided with hunger to come to the United States, several other people I knew were also trying to come to this country. All of them told me I was nothing and that I would not make it to the United States. I almost accepted their words, but in the end I refused their discouragement. These were good friends, and they loved me, but they were like 95 percent of the population who are content to get a job, start on a low level, and end up on a lower level. Being poor is temporary if we have the dream and go after it with hard work and pain. Even though I was very poor in my childhood, I believed that when I grew up I would never be poor.

Sometimes when I hear people say they grew up poor in America, I wonder how poor. They have shelter, food, a TV, a car, clothes, schools, and toilet paper. We had none of these in my dad's house. We had nothing, and I came out of that. This is why I am writing about struggles.

We go through a life of struggle. But if you have a purpose, if you forge ahead to dream about it and act to do something about it, the rain may beat on you, but it will not wash out your spots.

Starting School

When I was growing up, there was no law in Kenya that children had to go to school. I have no idea where my parents learned that education was important. They had no formal education themselves.

One day, my parents told me that I was going to school. It was a totally different language for me, and I had no idea what they were talking about. My duty every day was to look after the cattle, and I loved it.

Before enrolling in the first grade, I was taking care of more than two thousand cattle. My job was to take them grazing and to the rivers to drink. They followed behind the ox I rode. In those days, the men used to train cattle to follow a bell by having someone lead them ringing the bell and someone behind the cattle directing them to follow the bell man. It took six months to train them. Before I could watch over the cattle, I also had to be trained by Grandpa, Dad, my uncle, and one of my cousins.

We had to be trained at a young age on how to fight anything that attacked livestock. We had bows and arrows and sharp swords to carry with us, but there were a lot of snakes and other dangerous animals. It was not an easy thing. Grandfathers and dads had to find the child who was the risk taker for this job. I have been a risk taker all my life. We also had to learn each animal's character by watching it and talking to the animal. If any cattle got lost, it was a problem because the elders had to go look for it. Every evening, when Grandpa was telling stories at the cows' gate, I was praised by my grandpa and my dad. At six years old, I was responsible to do everything the family wanted me to do. I was very young.

My sister Phyllis was older than I, and she knew what our parents meant when they talked about school. When the day came to start, we began our journey in the early morning. My sister held my hand. We walked eight miles each way, wearing only our khaki school uniforms. In those days there wasn't any boarding, so we had to go back and forth each day between school and home. Today I appreciate how hardship brings rewards because my parents did not accept excuses. Grandpa used to say, "Don't ask what is being born. You will see the child."

We walked to school eight miles one way, and we were treated as responsible kids by our parents. Education was second to none in those days. We went to school early in the morning and laughed and played with each other along the way. We told stories and created fun and excitement. Every story had life meaning. In school, we played soccer, which we called football, and ran all sorts of track events.

My sister and I would wake up at five in the morning to get ready for school. No food, no shoes, no underwear, but a khaki school uniform that we were required to wear every day. Even though we went so often without food and clothes and many basic needs, our teaching that "family affairs were not discussed in public squares" meant we could not tell other students, teachers, or anyone that we had not had food for days.

My sister and I learned teamwork. After school, at three o'clock, we knew that when we got home there would be no food, so we found and ate wild fruits on the way home. We ate evening to evening, if we were lucky. We learned to eat the wild fruits to survive, and we learned to eat the ones that were safe. I don't know how we learned, but we were very careful.

From first grade to fourth grade we walked back and forth each day, eight miles one way.

My sister and I got to school on our first day, and I panicked. There were so many kids, more than God had created, and I was the youngest. The first few months at school I hated it. I came to know there was a campaign for all kids to go to school. I kept a list of all the names of the kids from my village who went to school at the same time I did. I was very accurate because I knew them all, even though I was so young. From first grade, I went to school with twenty kids from my village. I was a loner, and I am an independent thinker even today. I was really too young for school those days. We had no preschool as they do today, and the first year of going to school was hard for me. I repeated first grade, and all of the other twenty kids moved to second grade.

It did not disappoint me going through first grade twice. Most of the kids really loved me, and when they saw me repeating first grade, they were surprised that I was not smart. Grandpa used to say, "To try and fail is not laziness." I did all I could my first year in school, but I was too young to grasp it. Yes, I went through first grade twice, but from there I got all the basics, and I outran every student in the school by achieving the highest grades. "Good millet is known at the harvest."

The second year, I was still walking eight miles to school with my sister and other kids from my village. The only clothes we had were the school uniforms. Most of the kids we went to school with had parents who were a little better off than we were, but my vision was that one day I would be wealthy.

As my grandpa said, "Let your love be like the misty rain, coming softly but flooding the river." All my sister and I had was love and encouragement from our parents and both sets of grandparents. We got unconditional love from them in spite of whatever happened in our education.

"If relatives help each other, what evil can hurt them?"

In those days, the grades were called Standard One, Two, Three, and Four. The situation was that we had to pay school fees or we were kicked out. I had a dream that I had to do whatever it took to get an education.

I remember Grandpa saying, "Unless you call out, who will open the door?" As poor as my parents were, I had to think of a way to earn money to go to school. Indeed, to be so poor that you spell "poor" with five O's is no fun.