FROM THE STREET

FROM THE STREET.

Samuel Simiyu Makari.

Nairobi-Kenya.

He rolled down his car window after the persistent tapping. He had learned to ignore them. They were all over the place. It was like they were born there. Or maybe they were born there- right there on the streets. For they were always there. Surprising enough, as they moved around from one vehicle to the other, wearing their sorry faces, adults- mostly women- presumably their mothers or maybe their elder sisters, just maybe, sat alongside the busy road. They covered themselves fully from head to toe. It was like they never liked what was going on but they never had any other option. They had learned the trade very well and looked like they had passed it down to the younger generation. The young generation did it very well. It seemed they had been schooled. Talking of drama queens and kings was an understatement. These young lads and lasses could act. They knew their way around the town and the streets. They knew how and when to impress upon any non-suspecting passer-by. As for the women- their mothers- their elder sisters, they pretended not to be part of the street battalion. They pretended to be on their own. As if they never cared whether the battalion on the streets got or gained anything or not.

The passers-by always wondered who the parents of the children on the streets were. They all wondered in silence because they were all over the place. Once in a while, a vehicle will have its window rolled down and a few coins or sometimes- sometimes a note thrown down on the road. The coins always rolled directly into the gutter and the scrambling told it all. All of them wanted a share of the contents of the gutter. Did they care about how dirty the gutter was? They cared about the morsel that could be fetched by the coins in the gutter. The notes on the other hand were crumpled. They were crumpled like they had seen hands and hands. Like they could even talk. Or even count the names of those who had held them. Though it was a gesture of generosity, or giving back to the community, as they say, the actions betrayed the gesture. The owners of the vehicles betrayed the gesture. They could be seen, guilt written all over their faces, as they roll down their car windows to throw down the coins or the notes and abruptly roll them up like they immediately regretted doing so. Like they feared being seen. Like they were doing something wrong yet they, in their hearts, knew that they were helping. Why should one, with the intention of helping, be afraid of being seen by others? Had society reached that extent? That one has to be wary of who, when, and where to help?

As the traffic lights flicked red and the other drivers coughed their engines to life, he was lost in thoughts. He had forgotten that other drivers were right behind him. He was reaching his hand into his pockets, something he had stopped doing but found himself doing that evening. The honking of the cars behind him brought him back to reality. He was blocking other drivers. The insults were hurled at him but something deep inside his head told him otherwise. Something told him to do something. He felt like doing something after a very long time. He had plied that route on daily basis and had learned to ignore such advances from those who approached his vehicle in the name of trying to get something out of him. He had stopped when he felt conned by an elderly man who from the look of things, looked truly crippled and had no hands at all. He had felt pity for the man and stopped his vehicle, walked out of the vehicle, and dropped a few notes on his plate. Before he could get back to his vehicle, the spectacle that presented itself before him lingered on his mind for a very long time. He felt duped. He felt cheated. Three boys who had been looking on from the roadside, without warning, pounced on the man’s plate and attempted to make away with the cash he had collected. What ensued left everyone gasping for air. Nobody thought of such a thing happening. Abruptly and from nowhere, the man, the armless man, the man with crippled legs stood perfectly well and with a precision that defeated any sane or reasonable man’s thinking and grabbed the two boys by their necks and knocked their heads together. He shook his head in disappointment and drove away.

“What is your name boy?” he asked the boy after pulling at the roadside.

“My name is…”

“We were told not to tell our names to strangers. Don’t tell him!” another boy, clad in the same attire shouted.

The young boy retreated.

“Don’t mind him, boy. Come on boy. Tell me your name,” he implored him.

“I don’t want to be punished, “ the boy whispered back.

“Who will punish you? See, I will give you this if you agree to talk to me, “ he said waving some notes in the air while still inside the vehicle.

The boy was obviously torn between respecting what seemed to be the street code and helping himself on the carrot that was being dangled in front of his face. He looked at his friends- friends who looked like his enemies- enemies because of circumstances and seemed to have made up his mind. He lurked forward abruptly and stretched his hand into the vehicle.

“Mark! We are going to tell on you!” the boy who had shouted earlier on was at it again.

So, it is Mark. He had involuntarily learned the name of his surprising new friend. A friend he never understood why he was feeling close to the boy. He felt like leaving. After all, he had done it several times. He had left. Not once. Not twice. All he remembered was that he never looked back. He never thought about it. It never bothered him. But that evening he did not. That evening was different. He did not want to leave. He felt the urge to help. He told himself to help just this once. To help this boy.

“You are Mark, right? Fine Mark, don’t fear me. Please come near. Allow me to talk to you,” he pleaded with the boy,” your friends will not tell on you.”

“How do I know that? They have always told on me and I have always had my butt battered. I know them. They will…”

“I have something for them too. See, you don’t have to worry anymore. All of you will get something from me today,” he said dangling some more notes at the anxious young faces peering at him from the roadside.

“See! I told you he is a good man but you never wanted to listen,” a boy in shorts that had all manner of patches pouted out at the boy who had threatened to tell on Mark.

“How do you know? That is how they lie and lure us away only for us to end up in correctional centers! Remember what mama told us! Never trust strangers!” the boy stood his ground.

“That is for you! After all, your mother is not our mother. She made herself our mother and we are not going to allow her to beat us up again! You know very well we need this money badly and I don’t want to imagine what will happen to us if we don’t get something from the street today. Last time she beat us up terribly. You remember Sheila and Enock staying down for over two weeks because of the beatings! If I get a good person who is ready to take me in even if it means helping to take care of their chicken, I would gladly go!” the small boy shot back.

“Suit yourselves!” the boy retorted and started walking away.

As the young faces smiled and chatted happily on his back seat, he drove in silence. He was so much occupied in thoughts. He was taking them to a nearby restaurant for them to grab something for their tummies. He knew that his gesture won’t be appreciated by many. In fact, many could see it as showing off. Showing off or not, he had made up his mind to help. His main focus, the boy he had learned his name, the boy he had come to know as Mark had changed his mind. In one way or the other, he saw himself in the boy. Twenty years ago, he was exactly like Mark. He was the Mark of those days. His mind wandered back to the days when his family literary had nothing. When his family was wandering from street to street. When his family had no shelter. When his family was no family at all. He remembered vividly how his mother used to struggle to take care of his sister and him. How he learned to fend for his family while still young. He remembered all the days he had to persevere in the rain and the scorching sun so as to beg for food for his family. He remembered all the insults he had to endure for him to secure something for his family to eat. He remembered his early days while struggling to go to school. Coming from the streets did not give him a good chance to get admission to any good school. He had to teach himself and sometimes, his mother tried even though she had no education herself. But a mother will always be a mother. She always gave her best. She meant well for her babies. And there is nothing as good as encouragement from a mother. That is what drove him forwards. He grabbed any chance that presented itself to him to learn. He walked into school after another without tiring. His quest for knowledge superseded the hardships he went through to get the education itself. Then, as they say, God never forgets His people, lady luck smiled at him. In a way he did not understand, a certain lady alighted from a Range Rover and walked up to him. He was reading under the street lights just next to his family- his mother and sister. The lady took them in.

After being enrolled in a prestigious boarding school for his primary school education, he thanked God for His never-ending mercies. His mother and sister had been taken in by the mysterious woman. His mother’s work in that home was to ensure the compound was clean. She thanked God for the mercies. She thanked God for having remembered them. For having heard their cries. For having provided them with food. For having provided them with a place to cover their heads. All was merry until one day when bad luck decided to be their guest. That day was embedded in their minds never to fade any time soon. That was the day they found themselves back to the cold. Back to the scorching sun. Back to the street. They never saw it coming but there they were anyway.

“James, what exactly happened?” lady Anne asked.

“I am innocent,” James said to no one in particular.

“That is the tenth time you are claiming to be innocent. How come you have been expelled from school? Tell me what you did because I am not going to stay in the same compound with a criminal,” lady Anne declared.

“Please son, tell us what happened. Why were you expelled from school if at all you did not do anything?” his mother asked him. She clearly feared the worst might happen to them. Her instincts told her very clearly. The days she had known lady Anne, she had learned that she was a very nice lady but could rage madly when messed up. She feared her threat of throwing them back into the cold. She felt the obligation of getting the truth from her son lay on her shoulders. She felt their survival and continued stay in lady Anne’s home depended on her son saying the truth.

“The letter expelling you from school has categorically stated that you in the company of your other three friends were found to be in possession of bhang, an illegal drug while at school,” lady Anne told him.

“Everyone was using it and …” murmured James while maintaining his gaze on the ground.

“What do you mean everyone? Are you everyone? Do you know why I took you to that school?” lady Anne asked agitated.

“He did not mean to offend you, my lady. Please forgive him. Forgive us,” James’ mother pleaded with lady Anne.

“What did you just say? He did not do what? Are you even listening to yourself? Am disappointed in you. Surely, is that how you raise your children? Covering their mistakes? Tell me, is that it?” lady Anne asked James’ mother angrily, “in fact, you have until tomorrow morning to find yourselves a new home.”

And they knew the dice had been cast. They knew their goose had been cooked. They knew there was no going back. They knew their hay days were over. They knew the biting cold was waiting. They knew the scorching sun was waiting. It was just a matter of time. Just a few hours and they are kicked back to the gutter. All because of James.

After dropping out of school, James went from being bad to worse. He went straight to the gang that smoked and abused all kinds of drugs on the streets and mugged people of their property. He could be seen by both his mother and sister once in a blue moon and any time he appeared, he was either dead drunk or was sick. He could disappear for almost a whole month without any trace. Without caring how his mother and sister were faring. Without caring for his wellbeing. He did that until one evening when he narrowly escaped being stoned to death by an angry mob. They had mugged a lady and taken off with her handbag but she resisted and called for help. People responded immediately and swung into action. The stones came raining on them like hailstones. James managed, while running for his life, to slip and fall into the gutter and remained there. His remaining four friends were rounded up and stoned to death by the mob. That was the last time he was seen on the street. He walked around like the wanted criminal that he was. He had been in form two when he was expelled from school. He remembered all his friends. All his classmates. Three years after being expelled, they had already finished high school and had joined college or university. He remembered some of whom he used to beat in class. He was always topping his class until he joined the gang, the “Notorious Six” as they were known at school. They were all expelled. He agreed with the adage that regrets normally come after. He regretted each and every action he ever did. He wished to get another chance to go back to school. He missed his books. His books? Which books? Did he even have books? He couldn’t remember where he had left his books. As he sat on the stone in the ramshackle structure that was used as their house by the roadside, he thought a lot. He did not know when the rains had started beating him. He did not know what to do. He did not know the way forward. All he knew was that he needed help. He needed any help that he could get. He needed help from anywhere. Where he was going to get the help was the problem. As they say, opportunity knocks once and when one does not open the door, it goes elsewhere. He had had the opportunity. He watched it slip through his fingers. He watched it get out through his door.

His mother, a devotedly religious woman, never ceased praying for her Sun. She was in the dark but never lost hope. She was the only person who never lost hope in James. She knew he would turn around and turn over a new leaf. He was a good boy but since bad company spoils good morals, he had joined them. It seemed the only best thing to do after being expelled from school. It seemed the only way to escape the reality of having no more days for his schooling. As he sat there without doing anything, he started reflecting. He looked at his sister in his mind. She was growing fast. She was growing just like the other girls from good families. Like him, she was out of school because of obvious reasons. Their mother, their only available parent (for they were never told anything about their father apart from the other kids from the street who, through their games that sometimes ended in premium tears, told them that their mother was a whore. That she had gotten the two of them from different men meaning that they had different fathers) was not able to take care of their schooling. Unlike him, she never took part or joined the other young girls who always found themselves in the family way without knowing. Some even went ahead and tried to commit murder in the name of getting rid of the “unwanted” bundle of joy. It was like they never knew anything while jazzing. They never knew or imagined the consequences of jazzing with the boys without protection. His thoughts came back to his mother. He felt sorry for her. He had killed her light. He was her sun. He was the family Sun. the most interesting part was that the more he saw himself as the sun of the family, the more he saw himself in the dark. He thought over and decided. He made up his mind. He knew one thing; there was room for change and that God gives His people another chance and another chance as long as one asks for it. He believed what his mother had always told him. He believed that God could help him if he learned to trust in Him. He put his trust in Him. After all, there was nothing to lose. He only needed hope and faith. The rest was not his battle.

************

The following day, he went back to the street and slowed down his vehicle after reaching the spot where he had spotted Mark and his friends. He lowered the car window and looked around. It was business as usual for the street battalion. They moved from one vehicle to the other. They never seemed to get tired. Something kept pushing them forward. Something kept pushing them into begging for more and more. He scanned the street and surprisingly, he did not see Mark. He wondered what might have happened to him. He feared the worst. The other boys threatened to tell on him for taking things from a stranger and for talking to a stranger against the street code of conduct. He resolved to go searching for Mark and take him to the hospital in case he was lying somewhere after being punished by the others. When the searching turned futile and he was giving up, he spotted the small boy who had shorts full of patches. He was still in his patched shorts. He approached him.

“Halo over there. Please come over here I ask you something,” he told the boy.

“I don’t want trouble. I don’t want anything from you,” the boy said while stealing glances at the other boys on the street.

“I am not going to hurt you. I only want to…”

“Go away! You are a bad person. You made him go away!” the boy shouted at him.

“Who? Who went away? What happened?” he asked perplexed.

“Mark! Mark left! You made him leave! I hate you! We all hate you!” the boy shouted and ran away.

He was tongue-tied. He never imagined doing anything wrong. All he remembered was doing something good for the boys. He remembered giving back to the community. The street families were like his family. That was where he had come from. He considered himself to be part of them. How could he be a bad person? How could he be hated that much after doing such a good deed? The stream of questions came and flooded his mind. He did not remember for how long he had stood there. He finally walked to his car and looked at the three shopping bags in his car boot. He had felt having not done enough the previous day when he met Mark and his friends for the first time. He had not slept a wink that night. He had kept on turning in his bed especially whenever he thought of Mark and his friends. He kept thinking about the chilly weather and the street families in the cold. By morning, he had made up his mind. He was going to look for the boy and his family. Just like he was helped and made who he was at the moment, he felt obligated to do the same to this boy he had all of a sudden created a liking for. He had woken up early in the morning to go and look for them only to be met by the disappointment that he was not expecting. He could not tell what wrong he had done. He hoped nothing wrong had happened to both Mark and his family. He hoped to find them soon. He knew that they needed help wherever they were.

After what seemed like an eternity and after losing hope of ever setting his eyes on Mark, he saw him. Or he thought he saw him. He had his back to him. He seemed like he was doing something that took most of his attention. He was so much engraved in what he was doing that he did not notice the stranger who was standing right behind him. He was struggling to pull a scrap metal out of the mud. His hands had been soiled with the dirt from both the mud and the metal but never seemed to let go. Determination was written all over his face. It was all over his face- he needed the metal out of the mud for some good reason. Whatever reason it was, James thought, it had something to do with getting money. He did not look up even after being called. He did not imagine anyone knowing his name in that part of the street. He stopped for some time, listened, and continued pulling. He assumed he was not the one being called. He was sure he was not the one being called. The stranger called him by his name for the second time. He had the urge to turn and see who the stranger was and how he had come to know him.

“Don’t be afraid Mark. I am not here to hurt you. Can we talk, please? See, I have brought you some…”

“You! You again! Just go away. I don’t want anything from you,” Mark whispered back without looking at James. He had remembered him. The events surrounding the strange man were fresh in his mind.

“I have been looking for you. Where have you…”

“I said go away! Are you deaf or something?” Mark shouted at James. He stood, looked at James hard and long, blood veins bulging on his head, a clear sign of him getting angry.

“Fine. Fine. Am leaving. Am sorry for disturbing you,” James said while retreating.

James walked away deep in thoughts. He did not understand the reason why the boy hated him that much. He remembered the words from the boy with patched shorts. It must be having something to do with that, he thought. As far as he was concerned, he did not see anything wrong that he had done to the boys. In fact, he had done them good by taking them out for lunch. He did not understand how his kind gesture was bad. Before he opened his car door, he heard a boy’s voice. It was no doubt Mark’s voice. He stopped but did not turn back. The boy called out again. He turned and looked at him.

“Don’t go please,” Mark told him, his eyes pleading, his eyes tearing, “forgive my outburst earlier on. I did not know what to do or say.”

James stood fixed on the ground. He did not know what to tell the boy. He had, for a very long time, wanted to talk to Mark. He had spent sleepless nights thinking about this boy. In a way he never understood himself, he felt responsible for whatever predicament Mark and his family were going through. He felt weak. He did not have the energy to face this boy. He wondered why, after a very long time of looking for him and after finding him, he did not want to talk to him.

“I know you must be angry and mad at me. I understand you very well Sir. I could have done the same if I were in your position,” Mark said edging closer to James.

“It is alright,” James said without turning to look at Mark.

“I did not know what to do. I was very much confused. Please forgive me,” Mark said not knowing what else to say.

For Mark, the strange man had a good heart and he did not contribute to the many problems that befell him after meeting him in the first place. He attributed the bad things that happened to him to bad luck. First, he was excommunicated from the part of the street that he had grown up knowing as home. His crime was being close to a stranger who was a potential threat to the street families. He remembered how his family was whisked away from the street by the angry street families. His mother had pleaded but all her pleading fell on deaf ears. Her son was a troublemaker. Her son was courting trouble for them and they were not going to condone it. The street families acted both as the judge and jury at the same time. A verdict was reached. Mark and his mother were to be banished from that side of the street. They were not welcome for whatever reason. They had no otherwise. They had to move. They had to move to a totally new part of the street. That side of the street was very busy. It was not like the other side where they had lived their entire time while on the street. Unlike the other side of the street where there was a footbridge for pedestrians, this side new side of the street had no footbridge. One had to be careful enough before crossing the street. Many had lost their lives on that busy part of the street. Three days after relocating there, the dark cloud covered Mark’s family. The angel of death visited Mark’s family. He remembered he was still lying down in their new ramshackle structure of a house when he had screeching breaks, a loud bang, and glass shattering. He knew what that could mean. He wondered who might not have been lucky that morning. He had gotten used to waking up and not finding his mother around. She was always an early riser. She woke up early to go out and try her luck for the day. When he noticed her missing, he was not alarmed. He stood, stretched, and walked out of their “house” to find out what had really happened. That was when it dawned on him. That was when he came face to face with devastation. He had lived on the street all his life but had never been frustrated. He never coveted good life because he knew it was not his portion at all. He was destined on the street.

A crowd had gathered at the roadside. One person after the other could be seen walking away from the crowd shaking their heads. He knew that whatever might have happened must have been catastrophic. A few meters from, he noticed that there was somebody lying down by the roadside. From a closer look, he noticed that it was a lady. He felt sorry for her. He felt sorry for her family. He did not imagine how hard it was going to be for her family to bear the loss. A closer look at the lady revealed a very dreadful sight. He now understood why people were moving away from the scene while shaking their heads. The lady’s body lay there lifeless. The body was headless. It must have been a terrible knock. It must have been a terrible accident. The speeding vehicle that had knocked down the lady had taken off her head. From the point of impact to where her body lay showed how heavy the impact was. She might have been thrown away and how she lost her head in the impact remained a mystery. Mark, while scrutinizing the lady and feeling sorry he was for her, he realized something. He thought the lady’s shawl looked like one he knew. He had seen that shawl for a very long time. No! No! No! It was not true! It could not be true! Mark could not understand what happened next because he passed out.

After narrating all that had happened to him after moving from the other side of the street where the other street families were, James was already in tears. He could not imagine how the boy had managed all alone after his mother’s death. He learned that Mark contemplated suicide on several occasions but all those times, he managed to cheat death. He never died. On one occasion, he waited for a speeding lorry and decided to throw himself under it. Miraculously, the driver saw him on time and swerved the lorry, avoiding running him over. On another occasion, he waited till the middle of the night and went to the middle of the busy road. He positioned himself strategically for any on-coming vehicle to run him over. Once again, the first vehicle that came stopped some meters away from him. The driver alighted from the vehicle and before reaching where Mark was, he quickly took off and disappeared into the darkness. He thought there was nothing worth living for. He had lost the only person who mattered to him. He knew no relatives. The only relative he knew and had known his entire life was his mother. His mother had never told him anything about his father. He, on his side, did not see the reason for him pestering his mother about his father. After all, none of the children from the streets had fathers. Most of them only had mothers.

“Mark, would you mind if I shared my story with you?” James asked him, “We kind of have something in common.”

“You don’t say! You mean you came from the street too?” Mark asked him.

“Yes. I did not only come from the street but was born there,” James told Mark while laughing. He knew the boy was shocked.

“But you are…”

“I know. You must be wondering how I got myself out of the street and most importantly, you are wondering how I have managed to amass so much wealth,” James said while looking at the boy seated next to him. The boy was obviously surprised. James owned a Prado and it told of how rich he was.

“Exactly. I wish I knew what you did to get out of the street and get this rich,” Mark said reflectively.

“Would you like to get a chance to get out of the street?” James asked him.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I will do anything for you as long as I get out of the street,” Mark said.

“You don’t have to do anything for me, my friend. You are a very lucky boy,” James told him.

“What do you mean?” Mark asked him.

“I mean, you have the chance right before your eyes,” James told him.

“I am still lost. I am still at sea. I don’t understand…”

“I am taking you in. I mean, I am going with you. Today is your last day on the street Mark,” James told him.

The jubilation that Mark had was untold. He was very happy. He believed in prayers. Ever since his mother died, he had been praying to God to give him a helper. He had been praying to God to send him a good Samaritan. When it took time before anything happened, he decided to end his life. He always wondered why God did not allow him to die. Now he understood. He felt really bad having challenged God. As the two new friends sat side by side in the vehicle, they shared their experiences. Experiences that told them how close they were. James came to understand the reason why he had been attached to the boy. He had given up helping the street families for some of them were not grateful at all. He had come from there. He had found a good person from the many who plied the same street on daily basis. He had found somebody who believed in him. Like Mark, he had at one point given up in life. Unlike Mark, he had a mother and a sister who kept him going. They helped him a lot not to throw in the towel. When the man who helped him finally alighted from his vehicle and walked straight to him and asked him if he could help him, James knew his time had come. The man was kind enough. Even though he only wanted to take James and not the whole of his family, his mother made him accept the offer. The man promised to take care of his mother and sister even though they remained on the street. James realized that the man was childless and wanted company. He had wanted a son. He had wanted someone he could share his concerns with and after seeing this young man reading under the street lights on a daily basis, decided to approach him.

As the CEO of his networking company, he had worked hard to rise to that position. The good Samaritan who had taken him in had given him a chance to go back to school. He had given him a chance to study all the way to the university and the thought of his mother and sister always drove him to work hard at school. He feared disappointing his mentor. He feared disappointing his mother. He had done it once and did not want to do it again. He had cried to God for help. He believed that God answers prayers. That was the reason why he did not want to give up on Mark. That was the reason why he did not want to leave that boy to perish in the streets. He felt like he was supposed to give back to the community. He felt like he was supposed to do good. As they say, a good turn deserves another. Somebody had done something good to him and even though his mentor was long dead, he wanted to do good to somebody else. Somebody who needed help the same way he had needed it. He had all along been his mother’s light. He had always been the sun in his family. He had moved from grass to grace. He had moved from the dark to the light. While others were talking of having or seeing light at the end of the tunnel, he had no tunnel at all. He saw no light. It was all dark for him. He knew that his success would bring hope to his family. He knew that his success would light up his family. He was the hope in his family. As he smiled at Mark, he knew he had fulfilled his dream. He had fulfilled his promise to help somebody else shine.