Coming Full Circle: Finding Mwangi

It is hard to believe that it has only been eighteen months since the initial talks to form Stahili began. While we had already assisted four children to leave the orphanage, it was actually social media that brought myself, Laura and Michelle together, along with other advocates and close friends, to create a movement that became Stahili. Every milestone we achieved has been incredible: our first organized operation to help five children leave the orphanage, then helping ten children, and even up until we had helped twenty-four children. Every single child that has come to Stahili brings smiles and relief to all of us involved. The three of us have poured everything we have into this project. Blood, sweat, tears… more sweat… and then some more tears.

With each child we were able to help from the orphanage, it brought us one step closer to our end goal of helping all of the children leave the orphanage for a better life. And after the first orphanage shut down, we were able to reduce logistical difficulties and speak directly with the children and their families about the education and resources Stahili could provide for them. It sped up the process and meant we could assist children very quickly. However, not all of the children were easy to find.It all started with Mwangi. Many of our sponsors and supporters have heard stories of our children. Laura pulling out John from the orphanage, myself pulling James and Julius, and Michelle never giving up and finding Little Joseph who was not being taken care of for years. However, at the heart of it all was the story of Mwangi. It was Mwangi’s story that first pushed us all to stand up and do something.

I first met Mwangi and his two brothers, Francis and Albert, after they had been living at the orphanage for two months. He and his brothers came from an extremely abusive home where their father had landed in prison and their mother left them. It was my first trip to the orphanage in 2009 when I met the three boys. Mwangi was a funny kid and captivated the hearts of many of the volunteers. Since he was 3 years old, and was too young to attend school, he spent all day, everyday, at the orphanage with volunteers.

I woke up early one morning to run to the restroom as the kids were getting ready for school. I said good morning to the children that I saw, Mwangi included, and went back to my room because morning work did not start for another hour.Not too long after, someone was knocking on my door asking me to come to the boys’ dorm. It was Zach, the manager of the orphanage. When I got to the room, Mwangi was lying in bed, projecting a blood-curdling scream as Zach’s wife, Mama Faith, was moving his leg up and down.”Mama Faith! I am not a doctor, but I think you need to stop moving his leg. What happened!?” I said

Mama Faith and Zach looked at one another and  mumbled excuses:

“Uh… um, we don’t know he just woke up like this,” Zach said.
I responded, “But I just saw him this morning… He was fine!”.
“Oh no, no you must have seen another child it was not him, Mwangi has been in bed.”
“No… I did see him,” I adamantly replied.
“Oh… Maybe he fell outside. Yes, he must have fallen outside… But maybe you did not see him. Maybe you are mistaken.”

But I had seen him.  In fact, I know I saw him earlier that morning. I mean, it was early… but I had spent every day with him. I knew who Mwangi was.

After a busy morning of motorbike rides, and hours of x-rays at the hospital, the results had come back that Mwangi’s femur had been broken. The strongest bone in the human body. How does that happen? The doctor told us that Mwangi needed to stay at the hospital, bed ridden, and in a cast for two months.

The following day, I spoke with a friend’s father who was a doctor back in my hometown. He was quick to be skeptical, as he had noted that most cases of a broken femur in the U.S. were from child abuse. I listened to everything he was hypothesizing could have happened, but I left the call more confused than when I got on.

A few days later I left on a trip to the coast of Kenya. When I arrived back at the orphanage the following week, I was walking to the gate when I saw a staff member walking down the dirt road with everything he owned in tow. I asked him why was he leaving and he just kept repeating that the manager and director of the orphanage were “crazy”. When I asked him to tell me more, he just kept repeating that they were crazy and he didn’t want to be there anymore. Not more than a few days later, another staff member quit as well.I met up with them the following week and pleaded that they tell me what happened. The story that unfolded from here confirmed everything I suspected.

That morning, Mwangi did not just break his leg; someone broke his leg. Mama Faith, Zach’s wife, was never a fan of Mwangi and his two brothers. The night before, Mwangi had soiled his bed (as three year olds do) and when Mama Faith found the mess, she beat him so badly with a cane that she cracked his femur in half.

After that, it did not take long to not only confirm that the story was true, but also confirm that almost everyone knew besides the volunteers. The children were threatened that if they ever said anything, they would be punished and kicked out of the orphanage.  When Laura and I first met, she had asked Mwangi if he fell off the bed, as she had been told and believed. A staff member overheard her say this and told her, “That’s not really what happened. You should ask the kids.”  One of the children told her the same story that I was told by the other staff members. Laura and a staff member even went to the Ministry of Children’s Affairs and got the biggest media outlet in Kenya involved. However, all roads led to a dead end, and with the children placed there on a government mandate, Laura and I were helpless.

It was Mwangi’s  story that drove Laura, Michelle and myself to create Stahili and have our first project be titled “Project Mwangi.” Project Mwangi was created to help the children from this particular orphanage.

As Stahili continued to grow and more children were assisted, there was always a nagging feeling that it all started to honor Mwangi, and yet we hadn’t helped him. There are so many people who never gave up on the children, and have rallied and supported Stahili and our efforts to ‘re-home’ abused children.

A light at the end of the tunnel. 

Myself, Laura and Michelle received news earlier in the spring that the second orphanage, where Mwangi and his brothers had been moved to after the first orphanage closed, had been shut down. This was a huge feat in itself. It was like a huge weight had been lifted. The one thing that was preventing us from helping the three boys was that they had been placed there by the government. Now, we no longer had the government barrier. The children were sent away and left to fend for themselves. The problem? We couldn’t track down Mwangi and his brothers. No one knew where they were originally from.

After 47 days, countless trips to communities and schools, and searching vast areas, Onesmus received a tip. It took him far from the village where we work, to a remote area outside of the capital city. On Monday morning Myself, Laura and Michelle woke up to a message with a photo of Mwangi and his brothers. They had been found.We couldn’t believe that after so many searches turning up empty, our Field Manager Onesmus had found them! While it was a 47 day search,  it was several years of searching for a solution to help these children.The story of Stahili started with a rambunctious three year old whose story moved us to do something. There are no words to describe how happy we are to now bring the three brothers into our family. Please join us in welcoming Albert, Francis, and Mwangi to Stahili! After stabilizing their situation and getting much needed food and clothing items to them, they will be joining Stahili’s primary school.