In my father's arms

It was twelve months since I made my way to Mathare. Most considered it a slum, but for me it was home. I had two elder brothers, seven and three. My mum and dad loved me as much as they loved each other.

However, it started three days ago. First it was the soiled pants. I kept latching. Two days later, the vomiting kicked in. it was relentless.

Mum was tired, she broke down. Dad took me in his arms. The look on his face, I had never seen before: scared. Nonetheless, his heartbeat gave me hope.

We were in a matatu. I could see the urgency in his face. People on kiambu road didn't care much for our predicament though. Rush hour they called it.

So I snuggled closer, fading with every breath.

He walked into the emergency room, catching the attention my doctor to be.

'Dak... Tari, help my son.' he heaved a sigh of relief.

The doctor unwrapped the pink shoal in anticipation.

He stared at me and was startled.

His face lost all its luster. Once his stethoscope fell on my chest

His eyes moved between dad's and mine.
Hoping he was wrong.

He knew, I had found my way home, in my father's arms.

James will walk again...

If you are reading this, then James will definitely walk again. I first met James on a cold and rainy evening at Kiambu district Hospital. The look on his face was that of despair admixed with the constant grimace of a man in pain. He leaned evermore on his wooden clutches as he handed me his card to wait in line. It was about half past four on a friday.

After a one hour wait, the old young man, in his late twenties, limped into the cold leather sit. His story played out like that of a dying flame.

A young, vibrant soul, suffering from a debilitating yet curable complication following a fateful accident two years ago which broke his left thigh bone. Poverty dictated his choice of treatment and the definitive treatment offered within hours to days of injury was out of his reach.

Therefore, he settled for traction. A process that would have him bed ridden for up to two months with a weight constantly pulling down on his foot. Unfortunately, the two months saw him reside at the facility for two years with his fate looking up when the hospital through sponsors managed to acquire him the much needed operation.

His thigh was healed, but in its place, James developed an ulcer and was waived home for outpatient-based care. With pain meds no longer in reach James has known nothing but pain, biting evermore each day. He has not had the wound cleaned in weeks. Kikuyu mission hospital had offered to dress it in honey but that was cut short when he ran out of bus fare. Not having any means, he resulted to walking to the nearest health facility: Kiambu. On this particular ocassion, he had braved the rain to make it here. He told me of how he wished that he had a piece of land, because in his view that would buy him a cure. 'But there was none' he said, his eyes welling up.

James' ulcer is only several dressings and antibiotics away from skin grafting and because of you he can walk again. God will never forgive us for allowing James to give up. Kindly share this post and #JamesWillWalkAgain.