My Journey Of Faith. Dr. Charles Mutua Mulli

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      One day, on a visit to my relatives in Kithimani, I received information that the government was recruiting soldiers for the Kenya Army. There were only two days to go before the exercise would take place in Machakos. I had been harbouring a desire to join the military because I thought I was strong and capable of serving in the disciplined forces. Whenever I encountered soldiers, I would look at them in awe and admiration. So now I had to move quickly in order to try my luck at getting enlisted.

      Because of my lack of resources, I did not have even a shilling to board a vehicle to Machakos. My relatives in Kithimani could not help either. But this did not deter me from going to Machakos to attend the recruitment exercise. By faith, I decided to walk all the way from Kithimani to Machakos town through the expansive Yatta plateau. This would be a 50-kilometre journey. I left home very early and walked through thickets, rocks and grasslands under the scorching sun of Ukambani.

      There was no specific road to follow. I got my bearings through natural geography as I walked towards Machakos to secure my goal of a military job. At times I would walk for over five kilometres without seeing a home or even meeting a single person. Whenever I met people on the road, I asked them for the directions. I was glad when their answers indicated I was heading in the right direction.

      I was alone for most of the journey. I feared being attacked by wild animals, but that did not deter me from soldiering on. I only stopped occasionally to eat wild fruit and drink water from the river. During this journey I was convinced that “though I walk through the valley of death, I will fear no evil, because the Lord protects me.”

      Between the towns of Kithimani and Machakos, I had to cross two major rivers, the Athi River and the Thwake River. I managed to cross the Athi River with the help of young men who had boats. Their work was to help people cross from one side to the other for a fee of 50 cents. I used my last coin to pay for their service.

      Nightfall found me in Kabaa, and I slept in the corner of one of the shops. I resumed my journey early the following morning and walked straight into the Iveti hills; I did not go in the Makutano direction. Scaling these hills was not easy, but I managed to climb up and descend down the rocks.

      When I came to the Thwake River, there was no bridge to cross over. But as a determined young man nothing was going to hinder me from reaching my desired destination. I waded through the waters and managed to cross the river by the use of sticks to measure the depth and employing the hop, step and jump style, also known as triple jump. I arrived in Machakos town just as the evening was approaching, very tired and very hungry.

      I did not know anyone in Machakos town. I did not have any money for food or accommodation. Strangely, after such a long and difficult journey, I felt neither hungry nor tired. All I longed for was to join the army and get an opportunity to turn my life around. I spotted some young men talking by the roadside, and I humbly approached them, greeted them and told them that I had come all the way from Kithimani to attend a military recruitment exercise. I asked them to show me where the recruitment would take place so that I could go and stay there in readiness for the event. I had planned to sleep on the verandah or in the corridors of the recruitment venue.

      One of the young men told me that he also had intentions of joining the military and was going to present himself for recruitment. “I’m aware of the army selections, and I will be going there to try my luck. I really want to be a soldier,” he said. I looked at his body frame, and in my assessment he was fit for the job. He warmed up to me, asked me about Kithimani, and even offered to host me in his home so that we could go together in the morning for the selections. He was a godsend. Those were the days when people were never scared of strangers. Those were the days when honesty, generosity, kindness and brotherhood, among other good virtues, were highly regarded. We knew that everybody meant well for one another. That evening I was able to eat and sleep well in a stranger’s house.

      Through this experience, I gathered that God has His own way of preserving His people. He always sends someone ahead of you. He creates a road where there is none. He protects you from evil. And He provides for you.

      The following day we left early in the morning and walked about five kilometres from my host’s home to the Machakos stadium. We were among the first to arrive. Our first test was a simple drill—the recruitment team wanted to assess our strength through a running exercise. We were told to run about 10 times around the stadium. I was a good athlete and managed to finish among the first group. Over 200 people had turned up for the exercise, but close to half were dismissed right away for either finishing late or not being able to complete the race. According to those recruiting, the good runners already had one foot in the military.

      When one was told “go to the right,” he was moved on to the next level. Those who were told “go to the left” had failed the test. That was an automatic disqualification with no chance for appeal. Everyone’s prayer was to hear “go to the right.”

      After the running exercise I was told “go to the right.” I was happy about my performance so far. My hope of joining the military was beginning to be realized.

      The next test was an assessment of our body, height and general fitness. The recruitment team also checked for any sign of physical deformity. When they examined my body frame from top to bottom, everything was well: my height was desirable, as I was above five feet tall; I had no problem with my eyes; my teeth were white and none of them was missing; my hands were straight; there were no missing fingers; my legs were straight; and I walked upright. So far, so good. I had met the conditions for joining the military.

      I was waiting to be told “go to the right.” But one military man re-examined me and asked, “What happened to your leg here?” He pointed to a white scar on my left leg. It was an injury that I sustained over 10 years earlier when I was cooking porridge for my siblings. The serving spoon toppled over and landed on my leg, scalding me with boiling porridge. I was severely injured and could not walk for months. I was never taken to hospital. There was no money for treatment. The injury grew worse and even started emitting a foul smell. My leg became terribly swollen. With no medical attention, it took over six months for the wound to heal, and I was left with a permanent scar on my leg. This military man noticed. He looked me straight in the eyes, paused for a moment, and said, “Go to the left.”

      Just like that, I had missed the chance. I felt so disappointed. But I knew that there was a reason for everything. The exercise was conducted in a quick manner and left no room for negotiations or appeal. If you were ordered to leave, you had to depart immediately. I left the Machakos stadium a very downtrodden man. But I asked God to preserve me so that I could fight another day.

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      I went back to my relatives in Kithimani on foot, just as I had left. While there, I worked on a coffee plantation and other farms for about a month. My work was to clear the weeds and prune the coffee plants. I also engaged in picking coffee and transporting it to the nearby factory. However, this job ended, and I returned to my home in Kangundo to search for other ways of earning a living. I did not wish to stay at home and pity myself, so I kept trying out different avenues to earn income.

      But while at home, things kept going from bad to worse. We would go for days without food. We only survived by begging from neighbours, which had become our normal routine. There was nothing to do to earn a living; even the common manual jobs like weeding, harvesting and transporting farm produce to the market were not easy to come by. I longed to get a job of digging in someone’s farm in Kangundo, but I was never hired. Eventually, I considered relocating to a town where opportunities were unlimited, maybe Machakos or even Nairobi.

      One evening, I sat quietly and prayed to God to take charge of my life. I asked Him not to forsake me in my hour of need. I told God that I was relying on Him totally to make a change in my life. After a long period of meditation and prayer, I went to sleep.

      I woke up the following morning feeling quite energetic, and I made an instant decision to leave home and go to Nairobi to look for employment. The epic and risky journey to Nairobi, 70 kilometres away, saw me pass through thickets and bare land. It took me three days to reach the city. Despite numerous dangers on the way, I remained determined as I walked in faith.