Part 2. From East Africa to USA: My friends I and The fog light.
As it is winning a race, the tales, tribulations, episodes and moments of desperations in life make a good inspirational story in the end. When you get to the finish line, you laugh instead of cry and begin to imagine how you ate the hills like the yams as Chinua Achebe once wrote in A Man of The People. You wanted to quit, but somewhere along the way you came along this person whom you kept waiting to see what he/she as or thinks. You might have also received a message about a deal to be confirmed at a later date and all these kept you holding on. I do not intend in this narration to ridicule my past or make holes on my trousers, but to shed light on the little things that make us who we are or yet to become. It is the little daily hopes, the occasional maybes or encouragement from a sister or brother that makes you stay tuned to the task. Those whom we shared a similar ending can attest to the relevance of this little hope, the undeleted emails, a pair of running shoes only kept for a Sunday walk and the undeleted foreign messages or numbers. The list goes on and on and I would want to continue, but I have a particular hope that is dear and specific to me and my two friends in the days gone. The FOG light.
We had been training as athletes in a small town of Kapsabet for quite some time and we had actually established a good rapport with a few business women around the shops. Within the limited time we had, we secured a discount on Samosas and also strike a good deal with fresh milk. Life was getting along very well: As time went by age was in and hope was diminishing and certainly we were almost rethinking otherwise about college and running. I believe there are “Angels among us” as Alabama sings, the closer we had gotten into the walls a small token of hope was presented to us. We became friends with this guy who had been to the States for many years and had just come to the country. How we used to engage ourselves, perhaps had a great impact in the new friendship. It was a perfect time, sort of symbiotic friendship, he had a brand new car in which he would often allow us to ride and it created a robust energy ‘to want’ and ‘to go for it’. We also secured a fair deal with the same person and he kept informing us that he was talking to his friends about our plans. We might not have understood the difficulty of these sort of scenario, but what I came to realize was that the little hopes and waiting allowed us to mature and when the time come, not even the Embassy could resist. It is the FOG light.
Day in, day out on particular dates at about 7.30 pm or after the evening news, we were out on the road waiting for this guy to tell us what news he had for the day. For nearly 7 months we would wait for him with the hope that today could be the D- day. We mastered the uniqueness of his new Toyota premeo and all we could spot from a kilometer away was the Fog light. Today I can still hear myself say “that is him “and Phillip replying “does it have a fog light”. The fog light was the only hope to hold on to and to push ourselves to this far: it made us wait for a perfect time. Although, the waiting did not bear any fruits it reassured us about patience and time. I have learned to cherish those little moments and encourage those who will come after me to have something to look forward to daily. Listen to your instincts, they will teach you a means to an end you have desired to have and live.
The FOG Light.
Team Kamobo
Mshamba Abroad 