"I believe I am here for a special purpose, and that GOD has given me all I need to carry out His plan for me." On a plaque that I bought yesterday, April 13, 2010.
I was active enough to swim past and ahead of all those millions of my father’s specimen heading for my mother’s egg. So did you out of your fathers... We are ALL winners in that sense. Crazy thought yet true.
When I was six years old, I sang in a wedding. We had been asked not to sing that song anywhere because it was for competition. I went ahead and sang it. My first born brother Martin could not believe it. I was put on a table and they took photos of me which are still in my parent’s house or so I hope. The song was for Sunday school. I have always been a risk taker for the sake of it, and mostly forced by circumstances. In about another six years, I was a Sunday school teacher to my peers. I was more prepared then to appear in public than I am now even with a Competent Toastmaster certificate.
"Activism is the rent we pay to live on the planet." When I read that in a classroom, where I was teaching children here in Canada, I realized I had been paying my rent to live on the planet from around age five years old if not earlier. With activism, what matters is that you are in it. Sure the number of years one is involved counts, yet in my opinion, what counts is that you are an activist at all. I believe that just by signing up to International Hempology 101 and/or Cannabis Buyers’ Clubs of Canada, one is already an activist for this cause. That goes for staff as well.
In high school I was made the time keeper. I think I was chosen so that I could keep time myself. In those young days, if I did not like the next subject most likely math, I would extend the last period. I had the power. At the next school which was a two year course preparation for the University, I was made the head girl. My leadership skills were coming through very well until something happened. My deputy head girl Damaris and another girl Nancy took off into the dark. Damaris had asked me if she could run to the corner store and I had agreed. It got late and the girls had not shown up. I reported the case to the headmistress. We searched high and low for the girls. When they finally showed up driven by two older men, Damaris said that I gave them permission to exit. The whole thing led to my demotion and it stripped me off my badge and any self worth that had emerged. At the same time, I was elected as a Diocesan Vice Chairperson for the Young Christian Students. Nothing stops me...
I could not study properly as I did not know how to behave as a demoted 19 year old head girl. For that matter, I did not see the inside of a University class. I still want to meet with Damaris and give her a piece of my mind. 22 years later. My heart was down but I was still alive. I applied to teach Christian Religious Education as well as the Kiswahili language at a local Secondary school. I taught for 10 months and had to run away from sexual harassment against me by the deputy headmaster. I was seeing that older men were ruining younger girls and their lives.
During college and even while I was working as an office clerk in the city, I fell prey to the richer older men. Similar men to those who had taken my high school peers Damaris and Nancy, prey. I could not connect between my demotion in high school and what was happening to me in the city. When I started working as a Secretary to the Chairman of Human Pathology, University of Nairobi, I gained my composure. At a Secretary of the year award ceremony in 1994, I took mailing addresses of single mothers who were office secretaries.
I had come to realize that as single mother secretaries, we were not making enough money to take care of our families. We had therefore opted for the Damaris style. We were going out with richer older me to compliment our pay. I knew there was something wrong with the picture and I knew I was not the only one sleeping with my medical doctor bosses. Since I had been told that I had AIDS just as I was getting hired to work at the medical school, I knew to use condoms and I doubted my fellow secretaries were doing the same.
Before I looked into the secretaries affairs, I did outreach for the women on the streets. I used to be on the streets myself and clearly understood how the HIV was spread. My desire to help my sisters was unquestionable. I worked in the medical school during the day and did five outreach days a week for three years. I am persistent and faithful to my causes.
Apart from my doctor, the next person I told about my fatal illness was my three year old daughter. Jessy is her name. She is now dead (3 July 1997). She wanted to play and I yelled at her to go play somewhere else. I was worried, angry and everything in between. Jacinta exhibited signs of self worth by asking me a question I would never have asked my mum in any given circumstance. Definitely not at three years old. She said mixing Kiswahili with English, “Mami, mbona unanishoutia?” In other words, “Mami, why are you shouting at me?” People usually say that I had brought her up with self worth for her to feel comfortable and safe to ask me that question. I think she was just her own person that was teaching me to watch my mouth.
At first I wanted to beat her up and throw her off the balcony. My daughter was breaking the curse...I controlled all that anger and told her I was ill, I was going to die and I was worried about her. And I told her not to tell anybody. It was such a burden on such a young soul. And that is why I speak up today. I speak up for myself and for all the heaviness I put on little Jessy and her very brave soul. I miss her. She is my power point. She is my soul nurturing food and strength. The reason I do what I do. I swear by the mountains that if that child died without me at her side for whatever reason, then I must make it worthwhile. Being a servant is one way to do that. I am not to be mistaken for a door mat though. Times have changed. Gone are the days when I gave what I didn’t have which is near impossible but I did it!
Remember the addresses I took from the secretaries in 1994 Kenya secretary of the year awards competitions, in 1996, students at the medical school were well aware of my reaching out to the prostitutes and the secretaries. They asked me if I can write a paper/abstract. I sought through and picked out the single mothers and sent them forms to access their Knowledge, Attitude, Behaviour and Practice (KABP) on HIV/AIDS and to identify hindering of behaviour change to HIV/AIDS and hence come up with effective behavioural models that will help participants enhance safer sex practices. From what I got from the forms, I wrote a paper AIDS OUTREACH PROGRAM TARGETING SINGLE MOTHERS WHO ARE OFFICE SECRETARIES IN AND AROUND NAIROBI.
My lovely assistants were Bwayo JJ (RIP), Ngugi EN and Ndinya-Achola. All medical doctors. My job was to come up with an issue, project, results and lessons learned. The issue was that single mothers in Kenya were economically unstable. The project was me taking the initiative to collect addresses of single mothers who were office secretaries, sending them forms to access (KABP) and the result was the fact that very few women carried condoms even though they knew how to use them. The lesson learned was that single mothers who are office secretaries have evidently a role to play in the prevention of HIV/AIDS. I learned that integral sexual education and services that can help were needed and distribution of high quality condoms.
My paper was labelled by the International AIDS Society as LB.D.6066 and published. That my friends, is what brought me to Canada. To present my paper in the 1996 International conference on AIDS! I just did not hop in a plane and get here. With the help of a lot of people visible and Invisible, I made it here. July 4, 1996. What I had to do to get a passport in the first place and then get it renewed the next year is something I don’t want to talk about...anyway, at the conference new medication was announced. The medication was available right here in the Beautiful British Columbia. I would have been a fool to go back home and if I was not paying attention at the conference, I would have missed the boat. It ended up that I took the boat from Vancouver to Victoria and for two years, I did housecleaning with a fighter cell count of 80. I had no idea about how to go about getting the medication. Normal is between 450-1500. I didn’t know how sick I was, I only knew I had to work and pay rent and feed, clothe and educate what I had brought into the world. Jessy was still in Kenya and I being the responsible parent had to look after her from a distance.
Jessy’s death finished me but not quite as I am still here. Eight months after her death and me having done an IV drug, I called a “friend” and told her everything. Granted I called her several times and the last time she asked for my address. This was the day I had come from the hospital from almost dying from some street IV drug. My world was falling apart, literally. As I was laying there on my floor (was I naked? Hmmm...), there was a knock on my door. Four cops, maybe three walked in. They said they came to check if I was ok. I was still affected by the drug and I told them I had HIV, cleaned houses without a permit, I told them stuff. It was the drug because my normal self in those circumstances would have been nervous and lying.
Couple days later, there was a knock on my door. It was guys with badges. The scene was very similar to Law and Order. They announced themselves as Citizenship and Immigration Canada and RCMP. They never read me my rights and I was so scared to ask them to do so. I had learned in school about rights but what I did not know is that they apply to the whole world...even though they are practised. I was asked if I was HIV+ and I said yes. I knew the cops had rat me out somehow. They asked if I cleaned houses without a permit and I said yes. I don’t know where I got the guts. Ristaking...They asked if I had lost my passport and I said yes. Off to the police cells I went. Long story short, I was asked to leave in a month. No money, no passport I couldn’t leave. But I did move from my bachelor suit of which I was paying $450 without social services. Immigration and RCMP followed me to the house I moved my stuff, into the police cells I went, next morning taken to Vancouver, transferred to a van and soon I was in solitary confinement. March, 1998. It was the beginning of the month...of March.
They picked me up from Victoria on Friday night so that I could not even call a lawyer I had got through legal aid. It was nuts. Monday, I was being deported. OMG! My escort to Kenya reversed my deportation. I spent one more night in detention after a hearing and was released. I was so scared and excited that I was running a thousand meters per hour to the bus stop, looking back to see if they were after me. Jesus...anyway, when I came back to Victoria I cleaned a few homes, I reconnected with AIDS Vancouver Island (AVI) after doing my third HIV test in total and my first in Canada.
While I was in detention, I thought about many things. That was my cocoon stage if you think of a butterfly. I had nothing left but a TEARDROP! And that will be the title of ...I don’t want to disclose everything. Teaching about HIV/AIDS was something I wanted to do. I told the Creator that I would do it whether or not I got deported. Since then until now 11 years later, I am volunteering for AVI.
The next thing that happened was that I was anointed to do ministry. Here in Canada. Baptist church. Western Community Baptist Church. January 17, 1999. The Open Door opened its doors to me as an outreach worker for five years. Then they ran out of funding. When that happened, I explained to my friend Ryan about my desire to open an educational group. He did everything he could and while I am the founder of SAN-FAN Educational Group, we co-own the company. That is the first thing we did after we realised we were a match made in heaven. In total, I have done close to 1000 presentations in Canada alone. We donate $300 a year to the BC Children’s Hospital in memory of Jessy. Instead of saying rude words to the health system in which Jessy died of a penicillin reaction, we choose to give back to the health system and hopefully help the children.
In between all that, Ted picked me to spend time at the club. It was so exciting because he was going to the Behaviour Education room and I was going into the box. And he asked me if I could spend time at the club and I said yes. My membership with the club is now at over 10 years. Within those 10 years, I have volunteered and worked at the club in various capacities and at different times. Volunteering during the campaign - TED FOR MAYOR, speaking at City Hall numerous times to keep the club going, following Ted everywhere during those days (LOL), offering peer support to my fellow members and working at the front desk. I spoke at a Hempology convention once. 2006. I really appreciated that opportunity because I was on a low and everything about getting ready for the speech lifted me up.
All this service earned me an award as a woman of distinction for the YWCA in the category of Health and Wellness. I was initially nominated by Melanie of AVI. The awards were on May 23, 2003. Slightly a month later, Ryan and I were still friends and dating. I have known him since 1999 and have been married close to 5 years. We edify each other. Right now I am still waiting for my immigration papers. I am going for permanent residence for now. Much of my heart is still in Kenya and so citizenship is not something I am looking at in this moment. I am somehow mad at both countries. I love them both. I am truly torn between continents...
I sang at a wedding when I was 6 years and at our wedding accompanied by my parents nearly 30 years since my debut. See? Next I will sing at my funeral...see you there.
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