It’s 1:58 AM, and Azel is crying. Blood is oozing from my nose, it’s a lot. We’re in the middle of wheat bushes and dry, soft sand along the Bomet-Narok road. Azel has never seen this much blood come from someone’s nose before. A neighbour from the seat beside us heads up to the driver and asks him to help somehow, and he honors the call. A group of ladies and gentlemen from the bus volunteer to offer first aid. I don’t know any of them, except for my five-year-old nephew. But for what you’ve all done, thank you, I truly appreciate each of you and I love you all.
Azel has stopped crying now, though he still looks worried. We’re on our way to Nairobi, and I’m anxious about the second half of this journey. We’re traveling at night ! Kumbavu zangu, mbwa mimi, what was I thinking? I made a mistake.
I had been in the village for Azel. I love this kid, people think he is a rock of my sling. He was graduating from PP2 to Grade One on October 22nd, two months after his birthday. The number 22 seems to be a blessing for him, so I’ll get him a Gor Mahia jersey with that number on the back. I would’ve initiated him into Manchester United fandom, but I don’t want him stressing over his blood pressure every game!
We’re moving down the hill toward the isolated polytechnic outside Narok Town, near Ntulele, where there’s little but a footbridge, well-made tarmac, and an animal crossing. The place is rich with all kinds of trees, baboons, monkeys, and possibly other wild animals hidden in the bushes. At this hour, it even smells of charcoal. Are they teaching students to make charcoal at night? There are no homes here, just bushes. Multimedia University has got nothing on this polytechnic for natural surroundings!
Wait, I was telling you about Azel’s graduation… He got to school early for practice, and we followed a bit later. I can see him in the crowd, my young, handsome guy with his friend, he is scanning around to find us. He looks tired and weak, probably still worn out from that malaria he’s been fighting. All I want in that moment is to knock that malaria out myself. When he loses hope and starts heading back to the training area, I quickly send a friend to bring him over to where we’re sitting, me, Mum, and my “sisters,” Millie and Mercy.
When he gets to us, I can tell he’s hungry just by the look on his face, so I hand him his favourite combo, tomato crisps and vanilla yogurt. But he gives me a polite, “No, thank you,” which hits me right in the heart. I ask him what he actually wants as he tugs on my arm, pulling me up. Turns out he needs money for his graduation badge, so I cover it and get him some ice cream too, he’d asked for it.
Parents watch the “Holistic Space Academy” pupils perform. “Holistic Space” is Azel’s school, and these kids are talented! The music club is fantastic, truly entertaining… Soon, Azel’s class, PP2, is welcomed by the music band, led by their teacher, Teacher Rose, who organizes them into two neat lines, girls in front, boys at the back, all by height. Brave little souls, each of them, dressed in black and yellow gowns with badges neatly fastened on the left. They perform songs and poems, with one that stands out, “We Are No Longer Babies.” They say goodbye to kindergarten. The school really lives up to its name, they’ve created such a well-rounded environment here. The event is beautiful. Azel is back to his happy, playful self, he gets his certificate, they cut the cake, and then we head home.
Everything’s good at home, Azel’s happy, schools are closed, and he’s officially no longer a baby. Next year, he’ll be in Grade One, and he’ll be traveling to Nairobi soon!
Finally, it’s the big day. Azel’s up just after 5 AM, barely slept, ready to go, even though we’re technically not leaving until 8:45. You’ll understand why I say technically.I get up around 7, and I can already hear him by the front door, singing, “Ninaenda Nairobi.” It’s the little things that make kids happy. We finish preparing, and before we leave, Mum gathers us for a prayer, she prays for the things made with the hand of man to allow us arrive safe. After that moment, we say our goodbyes and leave for the booking office.
But when we arrive, I realize I’ve booked us on the night bus instead of the morning one. Frustration bubbles up, especially with Azel along for the ride, so I call my mum and my sister Stella, Azel’s mum. They both seem okay with us traveling at night, which eases my mind. I call my Okada man, Babgy, and we head back home to wait for the night.
At this point, Azel can’t afford to lose sight of me, he thinks I might pull a fast one and leave him in the village. What keeps his hopes high is the fact that we left his bag at the booking office. My little guy, who’s no longer a baby, is happy, and when he’s in a good mood, he praises everyone around him. He calls me “Ado,” calls Millie “Amillo,” and the best moment comes when he sees our neighbor Ada. He moves closer to her, saying, “Eiii Ada, Jaberrrr,” in his best Luo accent. Hearing this from a kid is just wonderfully fantastic.
The time comes to say goodbye and Azel’s dream of travelling to Nairobi is finally a reality!
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