On my first visit to Kenya in September 2007, I planned to visit Kisii for a day or two to meet Vincent, Abigael and, of course, the children at the home.
I drove there with my associate, Muindi, and arrived late on Saturday evening, and after a wash and a meal, we were taken to the annexe to our host's house where five or six orphans were being housed.
When we entered, the room was in darkness. The light was switched on and before me was a bunch of kids sitting around a table, waiting for their supper. The smallest, who I later found out was Josephat, was sitting on a stool in the corner of the room. Upon seeing me, his eyes widened, his jaw dropped ... and he fell off his stool! I have never had that effect on anyone before, but Josephat was only just 4 years old and had never seen a mzungu.
Of course, the other kids laughed at him, but he didn't care. He soon composed himself and with a big smile, planted himself on my lap, where he stayed until I had to leave.
The following day, a Sunday, most of the kids met up at "the plot", all in their Sunday best. I had a bag of small presents donated by the people in my village, toothbrushes and pencils. I felt very awkward, giving out such mean, small presents.
But the kids were delighted. Just imagine giving a UK kid a toothbrush and one pencil as a present.
-oOo-
Jojo was the first to call me Baba Mzungu (Swahili for White Daddy) and before I left Kisii, he made me promise that I would return.
Of course, I did, the following March, and he was my shadow for the 10 days I spent in Kisii.
The only problem is language. Jojo speaks about two words of English and I speak not many more of Swahili. But it doesn't matter, we sort of understand each other.
And, whenever Jojo does try to speak English, he always precedes it with the word "English".
So, he might say, "Bab' Mzungu - English - Josephat good boy."
