Twende Pamoja
“Let’s Go Together”
Our recent 120-mile fundraising walk in Kenya raised over $40,000 for MLI’s programming. The group of 9 intrepid walkers included 3 teenagers. They have each written a reflection on their experience that we wanted to share with you.
By Chiri James
A few weeks ago, along with 8 others, I embarked on a week-long trek across Kenya. 4 trains of camels bore the necessary supplies, and we were guided by a team of camel drovers. The drovers paved a path through the bush with machetes, identified every animal marking and footprint, and navigated using nothing but the horizon and their own sense of direction.
Each morning, we awoke at 5 to the loud groans of the camels, a cacophony that can be quite frightening when unexpected. In our tents, we floundered around for the saving grace of our headlamps, then began the practiced process of packing our bags.
After a quick breakfast and serene sunrise, the team gathered around the remnants of last night’s fire. Here, we read stories about women who had no choice but to walk miles to a hospital while in labor, and broken families that have been repaired by Maternal Life’s programs. These stories were our reminder of why we were walking and kept us moving forward through the rest of the day.
We set off with no idea whether we would be walking 20 or 40 kilometers, trudging through miles of sand, or climbing steep, forested hills. Each day brought a new and drastically different terrain, with its own beauties and challenges. We passed communities with varying cultures, and admired their beautiful, distinct ethnic jewelry and clothing. Eager children peered out from behind trees to watch and wave at us as we plodded along, their precious smiles contagious. Our feet were covered in blisters and our legs ached, but each painful step was in solidarity with the millions of Africans who walk miles every day just for their basic needs, ones many of us take for granted.
When we finally found a place to set up camp each night, we were exhausted, but our work was not done. After helping the drovers unpack the camels, we set to work building our tents and unpacking our bags. Then we gathered around the newly made campfire for long-awaited drinks, a meal, and a chair to sit in, albeit a rickety one. We spent our evenings reflecting on and laughing about our day, the hardships suddenly so distant.
By the time we settled into our sleeping bags at the end of the night, the sky was dark and embellished with a multitude of tiny, twinkling stars - stars that, back home, are hidden by city lights and pollution.
We stared up at them as we fell asleep, filled with a sense of peace, pride and joy, as well as the unavoidable question in the back of our minds: “What on earth will happen tomorrow?”
After further evaluation of the play-by-play of this journey, I have determined that, although I definitely was not a fan of every minute of the adventure, I think it gave me a new perspective on life that relieves stress from my life before. I have found now more than ever that you don’t need everything you want to be happy. You don’t need to wait to have a fancy car or a nice house or a great career or retirement to be happy, and it can be so easy to forget that when you are too focused on getting those things.
I learned that when something big and horrible happens in your life, like failing a final or losing a job or totaling your car or leaving your phone on a plane to travel the world without you, although it may seem like the end of the world at the time and the biggest thing to happen to you, there is so much more to life, and those material things are meaningless. I learned that although you don’t know the destination or when you are going to get there, and when it seems hard to believe that you will ever make it out of the jungle, you have to trust that God has a plan for your life, and you will reach your destination. You will eventually make it out of that mountain, and until you do, you can trust that there will be beautiful views and places to rest in the chaos.
Although I can live in much more luxury than I am living in now, I am currently living someone else’s dream of luxury. I need to be more grateful for what I already have and learn that a want for something material is not going to make me happy or satisfy my desire for more. My feelings of happiness and satisfaction could be the exact same now as they would be if I had $10 million extra, and they can be the exact same as someone in Kenya making $5 a day, who’s struggling to feed their family.
I definitely learned the importance of family first, and the value of parents who have a marriage in which they can communicate, compromise and learn to put their love above all else for the sake of the whole family. I have found how incredibly lucky I am to live in a family like that. I am luckier to have a united family than all the material things I could hope for. Even if you have nothing, when you have love and kindness and family, you have everything.
When I agreed to the walk for Maternal Life International, I had only a vague idea of the challenges it might include. I had some expectations of difficulty, but I found myself unprepared for what lay ahead. There were steep climbs in the heat, fewer breaks than I wanted, and just about every plant I touched scratched, stung, or stuck to me. Then there were days bushwhacking through a dense forest where progress was painfully slow, camp being set up with little daylight remaining, a sleepless night I spent throwing up, and an exhausting day that followed. I expected a little discomfort, but this was more than I had bargained for.
I had forgotten just how comfortable my daily life was. That was made most clear to me by the locals I saw and met along the journey. I would not last very long living as they do. I saw children digging in the dry riverbed for water, which reminded me that hardship and difficulty are part of life. The ease and comfort I am accustomed to is the exception, not the rule. My challenges did not result from bad luck or mistakes, they were a normal part of living without the conveniences I often take for granted. This realization sank in on the last day of the walk. As we walked farther than any of the other days (nearly a marathon in distance) I had an upset stomach that hurt with every step. However, unlike the previous days, I embraced the challenge and did not waste my efforts on internally complaining or asking, “why me?” This change of perspective made the last day feel much easier despite its difficulty. After returning home, remembering that hardship has made me appreciate the comforts I had taken for granted.
In the old days, in Maasai culture, for a boy to become a man he must live apart from his community for 4 months and then kill a lion with only a knife and spear. The risk of failure is great, but risk is a fundamental element of the equation. Without it, there is no transformative ordeal, no passage to manhood, and no wisdom to impart.
On adventures like these, much of the take-away wisdom rises from winning an internal battle. You fight against fatigue and the ‘weedy brain’ thinking that nags you to stop walking, tells you that you’re hot, that your feet hurt, you’re hungry, your legs are chafing, and your pack is uncomfortable. Winning those battles is a mental game, as you project thoughts into the near future and imagine the balm of completion.
It’s also a game of the heart, finding your internal strength through compassion, by keenly observing the dire needs of the people whom you pass, reflecting on problems, solutions and feelings of gratitude, perhaps even some guilt for your status in life. The wisdom gleaned from those internal victories of heart and mind is our goal, because even the oldest among us desires new wisdom and the time to share it forward.
For the Maasai, their time in the wild as young men ends with the rite of circumcision. The pain and the drama of the ordeal, and the passage to manhood, is memorialized because of it. Other cultures practice different rites of passage, sometimes facial or belly scarring or ritual teeth shaping, but all mark the passing of childhood, and all intend for the memory of that moment to be significant, a lifetime reminder of the wisdom gained and the mission to spread it forward.
In the absence of physical scars, the rites of passage in modern society are the significant memories we create when life veers into adventure, and away from the soft memories of everyday life. In the routine of daily life, it’s easy to forget what really matters and we tend to over-value the mundane, wisdom becoming the synopsis of a TikTok reel. Momentous memories are born in the battle for survival and from the triumphant feeling of success. These memories are mile markers of the moments when we left one self behind and sent a wiser one forward - a fresh soul whose life will forever follow a different trajectory.
That’s why it’s vital for us to answer when adventure calls and embrace risk with open arms. Because, there in the cusp of survival, you will find truth and wisdom beyond what you ever expected.
We appreciate our sponsors who made our trek a success. This team of dedicated walkers should be proud of their efforts. We are grateful to have shared this great journey together.
An important stop during our trip was the Ruiri Catholic Health Center where, thanks to a donation from InJoy Health Education, we were able to present Fr. Gifton, the director of the health center, an ultrasound for their newly constructed prenatal and maternity ward.
Fr. Gifton had written to us with their request, “We conduct up to 20 deliveries a month. Having an ultrasound has been our dream for some time now. This is an effort to raise our level of care. It is my sincere wish that we can collaborate to make this dream a reality.”
Fr. Gifton told us his congregation had just completed a second floor to their clinic and had been praying for the resources to equip it. Provision of ultrasounds for needy clinics in Africa is one of MLI’s current priorities. Our cost is around $5000 to provide this life-saving service. Learn more here:
This is just the beginning, friends. The beginning of many adventures, of lives changed, of families empowered, of women and babies saved through partnerships in maternal health care, and communities coming together for a common cause. Please consider joining us next year for another great adventure for our cause.