Big Men

I cried more tears than water in the well. I had never seen people so happy. The intensity of a number of powerful emotions took me by surprise and overwhelmed me. I had never seen people so happy.

Entry into the remote Kenyan village of Osika brought the climax of my rollercoaster of feelings experienced during that trip: a trip which took me, at age 15, to bold Berlin, dubiously dazzling Doha, and curiously quirky Kenya – which caused me to meet with a range of emotions which were to alter my thinking considerably and render me humble, proud and more mature. Situations beyond any I had previously encountered led to me to adopt a fresh view of people, their backgrounds and their circumstances.

My journey began by saying goodbye to my mother and younger brother at Glasgow Airport from where I would take a flight on my own for the first time. After two and a half hours high in the sky I arrived in Berlin, the home city of Paul (a total stranger to me) and the man responsible for me over the next ten days. After almost losing my luggage, Paul’s wife drove us to his office in the city centre where I was to meet the ‘big man’. I was full of anticipation and looking forward to meeting him as I had heard so much about his remarkable fiscal and charitable work and additionally, about his expansive personality: justifiably, he is the ‘big man’ for many reasons. Although he was a guy I had never met in my life, being a long-time friend of my father’s meant that we had the potential to be pals. We instantly clicked and for the rest of the trip existed in harmony together. A night in the city allowed me to see Berlin’s famous landmarks and gain a feel for the German capital. I found it to be a very intriguing place with an incredible amount of history, not all of it uplifting. However, in comparison with locations to come, it presented recognisable surroundings to the ‘wee boy’ from Troon.

On arrival in Kenya, we boarded a more basic craft from Nairobi to Kisumu where we stayed the night next to Lake Victoria – an imposing and unforgettable sight. Here, also, we had the necessary rendezvous with Solomon, literally a ‘big man’. He stood six foot tall, broad-shouldered, with an ear-to-ear smile that, no matter what might befall him, could never be wiped away. He was to be our driver, constant companion and tower of strength throughout the mission. Despite his degree of advantage in relation to his tribe, he nonetheless used his somewhat privileged position to give back unselfish levels of pastoral care, laced with concern and good humour, which was to be an inspiration for me, resonating as it did with my ambition of becoming a doctor. I watched him with a mixture of wonder and admiration.

I can remember vividly Solomon’s battered saloon conveying Paul and I through a dancing, chanting, cheering, grinning, leaping river of humanity that parted and then reformed around the car as if it were a boulder in a stream. In this way, like a regal motorcade, we drove into the heart of Osika. My tears added to the river. I still don’t know if they were tears of happiness or something else. All I know is that I experienced a very unique combination of feelings which I will never forget: joy, shock, sympathy and an overwhelming feeling of disbelief. How can these people be so happy in their situation, happier than anyone I have ever encountered before? The ten minutes spent dancing with the tribe was a significant one in my life so far; it realigned my life’s compass and my outlook on what it takes to live happily. It was an initiation into freedom – a curtain opening on a fresh emotional perspective. I was soon to learn during this opening ‘ceremony’ that the residents of Osika viewed Paul as a Hero, the saviour. Each villager had a story to tell regarding how Paul had transformed his or her life and that of their irregular, sprawling village with its basic mud huts interspersed with grazing livestock. This struck me to the very core of my being with a heartfelt and everlasting impact.

When I visited the local primary school (where I gave a motivational talk to final year students) and met numerous villagers, I came to realise that I was among people with a great deal in common with me. They were living in primitive conditions but were people who displayed a dignified pride in themselves, in their culture and in their intelligence. No sign of inflated egos or fake personas which are all too easy to find in the developed world. Although we came from almost exact opposite situations, it was so easy to share their existence: to be with them, mix with them, talk with them, eat with them, travel with them and relax with them. One man in particular, Naftali, actively demonstrated the way all humans should be through his generous actions and open communication. Initially, when we met, he was wearing a red and white retro Rangers strip, and I uncertain as to how to react, fell into a straight-forward level of shared humanity. We chatted for hours on end over the next three days and I was humbled by his immediate sense of friendliness towards me – the mark of another ‘big man’ with an abundance of courage and the bearings of a true friend.

After driving round various high schools and universities where Paul was sponsoring children and students, meeting more of Osika’s residents and inspecting its single-crop subsistence system, my stay in the village was over. I hoped to see the villagers again someday and take away with me the many implicit lessons I had learned. (As a bonus, I did not contract malaria from my collection of mosquito bites!)

All too soon, Paul and I found ourselves wishing Solomon farewell at Kisumu Airport and made it back to Nairobi. It was here I thanked Paul for his kind support and generosity in taking me on the trip with him and we connected one final time with a manly hug. My flight back to Glasgow signalled the end of an emotional journey around the globe and heralded the opening of a new inner world for me wherein I carried the missionary vision of the big men of Osika.