The Boys

I have just finished reading DEOGRATIAS: A tale of Rwanda by Jean-Phillipe Stassen and I realized that I could not end these blog posts without talking about the boys.

Allan: 

Allan, my heart, is supposedly 24 years old although he looks about 20. Many people think Allan is Kenyan because he speaks Kukuyu fluently, however he is actually a refugee of the Rwandan genocide. I would like to tell you his story, but I can't. The history of Rwanda is dark, even in the graphic novel form of Deogratias, it is hard to imagine the heinous crimes that took place for years in this region of Africa. As I began to talk to Allan he mentioned to me that he lost his family in 1992, the year I was born. I stopped him there, unable to wrap my mind around anything else he might say, unable to imagine that someone so beautiful had to experience something so ugly. I almost cried with just the mention of it. For the time that I spent with Allan, I discovered so much more about him outside of his past and his current situation. Allan who told me he never has fun because he is always serious, likes to play soccer. He has a huge smile, likes to read and aspires to one day hold a job and help his community. Allan said he would never want a family because he is poor and he cannot see himself being a supportive husband or father, by the end of his week with us, Allan decided he would consider it. He is very shy, extremely shy and uncomfortable in social/party atmospheres... but he can dance if you get him going. Allan is smart, ambitious, and resilient, and it was not until I was editing a documentary of our trip that I discovered things about him. For instance, that Allan has dealt with large bouts of abandonment and poverty in his lifetime. He looks to the people of Harambee as family and father figures for him. He has a strong sense of failure, but he is also hopeful for the future. I have loved Allan from the moment I met him, because he reminds me of people I have encountered in my life. People who are quiet storms of strength, sorrow, and hope. Allan is like a classic novel, unwritten. He is the embodiment of the work of Toni Morrison and Octavia Butler. He has a kind've poetic justice about himself and his life that I can only respect, admire and be humbled by the fact that he chose to share it with us.

Tony: 

Tony is a streetboy. To be quite honest, that is all I knew about him while in Kenya. But there where other things I gathered about him that earned him this spot in my blog. I did not meet Tony on the first day we were introduced to the boys of Dagoretti Market. I was overwhelmed with everything that was happening, so instead I stood by myself huddled next to some american someone who wouldn't be bombarded by excited children. Yeah, I'm a little lame and anti-social in really intense situations. Tony however seemed to remember me as someone worth knowing by the second time we met (which inevitably became the first time we actually met). The way that I discovered this is because Tony walked over to me and introduced himself but as I went to introduce myself, he already knew my name. He smiled at me, which was not uncommon because all the Kenyan men just love to smile and have beautiful smiles!, as a sign of friendliness and showed us around a slaughter house and the small area of Dagoretti Market. That was it for Tony and I that day, but as I rushed back to the van, anxiously trying to get near Dennis (the protector) and away from the boys attempting to marry my classmate Raven, I noticed Tony pull a few away from us and back toward the marketplace. It appeared to me that Tony had a little bit of protector in him too.  The next time I ran into Tony was on an interview day. We were going to lunch and it was the first time I had really been alone with him and his friends (by alone I mean without at least half of my group). I complained to Tony how no one seemed to like me in Kenya because they turned away from me every time I tried to wave or say hello, but embraced all of my group-mates.  Tony reassured me that it was not my fault and that I was pretty, Tony was immediately on my good side. As the afternoon continued I notice he was somewhat shy around me and stared/winked at me a lot. My deductive reasoning skills told me that Tony had a slight crush on me (Michael also may have mentioned it). To sum up this story and not make Tony's piece too long, he ends up helping me a lot on that day and was very kind to me while also continuously gawking at me which was flattering and uncomfortable. On our last day Tony walked up to me and said he made something for me, as I bursted into tears, he unwrapped hand-made earrings for me and every girl in my group. I love you Tony. I gave him a hug and said goodbye, Tony became my Kenyan crush and I am sad to know I may never see him again. Back in America, I found out Tony's story while editing our documentary. Tony is also around 24 years old, and he has dreams of being a lawyer. He also lost his family and traveled to Nairobi as a younger man. He mentioned that he would like to help the streetboys because he knows he did not have many opportunities in his life and did not take advantage of the ones that he did have. Tony became the star of many of our interviews because he is an eloquent speaker and offers words of inspiration. Sigh, I will stop talking about Tony now because he is one of the few boys we may really never see again.

Cetrick:

I met Cetrick on our last day in Kenya. I was asked by my group to break him out of his shell and so I went to work getting to know him. Cetrick wasn't as shy as the other boys. He went to school and told me he liked to dance and play sports. He lived with Allan, Kabro, and David but was working on getting his own place. Cetrick was also younger than most of the other boys we met, somewhere in between 17-19 yrs old (one can never be sure with the sly Kenyan lies). Anyway! I took to Cetrick well and his appearance reminded me of my cousin so thus he was deemed "Cousin Cetrick Sterling".  He was kind to me by adapting to the name quite easily. The day we spent together was far too short. I complained of having to leave him behind as we prepared to come back to America, though I did give him a bracelet as a token of our friendship. Cetrick called our Professor Mark, as well as Michael (Harambee Staff member ) in order to contact me and ask me not to be sad about our departure. He promised he would come to see us goodbye and I realized that Cetrick gained more from that day than any one of us had noticed. After arriving back in America, I talked to Cetrick often. I found out he wakes up at 5am and makes a 2 hour trek to school everyday, which was why it took us so long to meet him. I also found that he has a sister whom he does not get to see often. Cetrick was eager for me to come back and visit and soon I would realize why, one day, out of nowhere, he said he loved me. I was taken back by this and though I wanted to be as polite as possible I knew that he had been alluding to romantic feelings for some time. I told Cetrick that he could not love me, because he did not know me well enough to really feel that way. Except for a few surface conversations after that, Cetrick has not spoken to me since.

These are not all the boys I met in Kenya but they are some of the ones that left a lasting impression on me. I miss them terribly and I hope to one day see them again in the height of prosperity (however one chooses to define that). The boys of Kenya will always have a special place in my heart, though sometimes it feels like a hole that won't be filled until we are able to share the same space again. I will try my hardest to make this a reality but the rest will be up to the powers that be, and hopefully we will cross paths again; sharing laughter and love as we once did, Spring Break 2013.