The
call
“Ben
is calling! Ben is calling!” Grace screamed from the dining room, attracting
everyone’s attention.
Her
mother, who was preparing supper, left the steaming meat stew and rushed out of
the kitchen as she wipes her wet hands on the “leso” that was wrapped around
her broad aged waist. Her father, who was reading Saturday Newspaper in the
living room, put the newspaper on top of the table, searched for slippers under
the table with his legs, and made his way to the adjacent dining room. Daisy,
Grace’s younger sister, stormed out of her bedroom, where she was absorbed in
her homework assignment, and made a dash towards the dining room, almost
toppling over the thick glass table and the heavy leather sofa sets in the
living room.
When
everyone had gathered around the laptop in the dining room, Grace carefully
dragged the cursor and pointed it at the “Receive call” option. She then tapped
it gently and everyone waited with bated breath as the call connected. When it
indicated” Skype call connected,” she was the first one to say “Hello.” The
response from the other end came faintly and so she repeated, this time louder,”
Hello Ben, Can you hear me?”
“Hello
Grace, I can hear you. How is everyone at home?” this time Ben was loud and
clear.
“We
are all fine brother, how about you?”
“I
am great. Fairing on pretty well,” Ben said as he sipped his coffee.
“How
is America?” Daisy and Grace asked, almost in unison.
*
Bernard,
or Ben as they were fond of calling him, had travelled to the United States six
months ago to study Theology at St. Benedict’s college of Theology in Colorado
State. He was enrolled on a Scholarship programme which was initiated by the
college to offer assistance to African students who were willing to study
Theology. This was the first time he was calling back home to let his family
know how he is doing.Ben had become a source of joy for the family since he
took up the scholarship programme.
Five
years ago, Ben was a thorn in the flesh. He had caused the family great pain
and loss. Ben was a quiet child and his primary and secondary education life
was quite uneventful. He was an average student. It therefore came as a great
surprise to his parents and teachers when he scored a mean grade of A in his
Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education examinations.
When
Ben joined the University of Nairobi to study medicine, everything looked up
for the close-knit family of three children. Earlier the same year, his father
had gotten a promotion in the Ministry of Roads and Public Works where he
worked as an engineer. His mother had opened up a small coffee restaurant in
the up market Westlands area and it was picking up at a faster rate than she
had anticipated. Grace, the second born, had just finished High school, and
when she was not helping her mother in the restaurant, she was spending most of
her time on the laptop at home. Her mother preferred she stayed at home because
her young waist was broadening and her sharp pointed breasts were piercing
through her bra, attracting wolves of men and she did not like it. At least not
now. Daisy was doing well in school. At class three her spoken and written
English was just epic! Her dream was to study journalism at the University and
become a news anchor.
Things
started spiraling down the hill two years after Ben joined UoN. He started
drinking and staying out till late at night. Sometimes he would spend the whole
weekend out, drinking with friends. He would only show up on Monday mornings
smelling like a brewery! That academic year, he got four referrals. His
drinking became heavier and heavier. Maybe it was the heavy responsibility put
on his head as a first born son and the fear of disappointing his parents that
ate into his soul and left a gaping hole that only alcohol could fill up. Maybe
it was the peer pressure that comes with second year University students that
had gotten a strong hold of him. He would come back to the house at 3 a.m.,
dead drunk. His mother would sob till her eyes would turn red. During such
moments, it was Grace who would open the door for him and guide his wobbling
legs to his room in their four bedroom apartment in the first sprawling Langata
estate. His father tried to maintain a cool mien amidst all these but it was
obvious the situation was taking a toll on him. He had tried talking some sense
into his son’s head but it was all in vain. He seemed lost on what to do with
him.
By
the end of Ben’s third year in college, everything turned upside down. His
drinking got worse. He was diagnosed with cancer of the liver. He was
discontinued from the University after he failed half of the units he took that
academic year. He had also skipped quite a number of lectures and missed some
examinations. The last stroke that broke the camel’s back came on the night of
February 14th 2016. Ben, in his drunken stupor, veered off Langata
road, rolled several times and landed in a ditch. He was driving the family
car. He was coming from a music concert at Carnivore Restaurant. His girlfriend
died on the spot. He was rushed to the Nairobi Women’s Hospital in Nairobi West
by well-wishers. The car was written off by the DFC insurance company.
Ben
was discharged after four months. He had to walk with the aid of scratchers for
two months before he could stand on his two feet again. His father literally
emptied the family savings. All of it. This accident marked the turning point
in Ben’s life. When he recovered fully, he suggested that he would want to
spend the rest of his life serving the Lord. He enrolled for Bible study
classes at Bible House along Langata road. It was while he was here that he
heard of a scholarship opportunity at St. Benedict’s college in the US. He
applied and as luck would have it, his application was accepted. His passport
took a month to be ready. His Visa took two months. By the time he checked in
at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, history was made in the U.S. Donald
Trump had beaten Hillary Clinton in the presidential elections. During his
campaigns, Donald Trump had pledged to deport many African back to Africa. The
future did not look bright not only for Ben but also for all other African
immigrants in the US.
His
father was particular worried. He had keenly followed the US elections and he
was sure Donald Trump meant all that he said during campaigns. He knew his
son’s ambitions to study Theology in the US would not materialize with Trump as
the President. He kept his fingers crossed. One month had passed and there was
no news of deportation. The second and third month also passed smoothly like
water under a bridge.
The
news of 200 Kenyans deported from America would only hit the news five months
after Trump was declared the President. Ben’s father followed the news keenly
with a heavy heart. It therefore came as a relief to him when he confirmed that
Ben was not among the 200 Kenyans who were deported. But something still nagged
him.Ben had not called back home to say how he was doing. They had tried his
number several times but it was not going through. He was not replying his
E-mails either.
Had
he gotten himself in trouble? Did he manage to start his Theology lessons? Was
he safe? These were questions that went unanswered for the first six months
that Ben had stayed in the US.
*
His
father cleared his throat and moved closer to the laptop screen.
“How
are you Bernard? How is the situation over there? Are you safe? He asked
“I
am safe. We have not had any problem so far.”
“How
is the weather?” his mother chipped in,
“America
is very cold right now. I have missed you people.”
“How
is school?” His father enquired.
“School
is fine,” he said as everyone listened attentively,” In fact, I have even
started serving in church. I serve as an altar boy. I like it.”
“His
calling to serve the Lord is true.” His father, nodding his head, whispered to
no one in particular.
All
of them were overjoyed.
By Daniel Many owiti
manydaniels09@yahoo.com
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