Resolution?

As predicted, Vivian decided not to respond to me, as promised.  I called her yesterday to find out where my copy of the summons was.  No answer. I texted her repeatedly.  No answer. I used a different phone.  No answer.  

Metosha, Metosha. In other words, enough is enough.

Last night, Agnes contacted the same guardians again, insisting that they come get their children.  "The muzungu will help your child at your home".  Alex's uncle, sick of this nonsense, replied:  "If someone is going to help Alex, then you tell that person to bring Alex here.  Otherwise, Alex stays at the home".  Good for him....  Simon and Moses' uncle Paul was called (again) and told that he needed to collect the boys right away.  Paul had been warned that Agnes would call, so he paid no attention.  Feeling spurned, Agnes then called the chief of their village, insisting that he direct Paul to pick up the boys, because 'the muzungu has them, and the muzungu is no good'.  It didn't work.  The chief told her not to bother him again.  

Metosha Metosha

Tony and I arrived at the DCO at 10:00am.  No Vivian in sight.  I wasted an hour dealing with a lazy, incompetent fool.  Pole sana, but there is no other description.  He had no answers, knew nothing of this case. "Where is Vivian?  Didn't she leave the file in someone else's hands?  She told me she would, before she went on maternity leave. Is she at the hospital now??  Who. Is. Your. Boss?"  I already knew who the boss is, but needed to vent, as I was losing patience.  "I have no further time to waste here. 29 children are depending on this office to ACT.  I am going to your superior now.."  "You will be directed back here if you go there."  "Oh, no I will not" I said, as I got up and went to the next building.  Thankfully, there was no door to slam.  In the next building, I found the Deputy Officer, Vivian's boss.  The Chief Officer was not in, but there were three Officers, one of whom is a woman, the senior officer in charge of my area.  After an emotional re-telling of this story, Evelyn looked at me and said: "So, Vivian is your problem".  "Ndio."  (Yes).  I had the file with me, which she glanced at, and quickly said "This Agnes is the real problem, however".  "Ndio.  The home is not registered, and the grace period to do so has passed.  Agnes thinks she is above the law.  Her war is with me.  My war is protecting these children.  Please. I need your help. If nothing else, will you please contact Agnes today, and request that she stop harassing the children and their guardians?  I am departing Kenya next Saturday, and cannot do so without some form of resolution.  If she is behaving this way while I am here, what will she do when I am gone?".   We had a lengthy discussion about closing the home.  The Deputy Officer was inclined to do so right away.  "You gave Agnes a 6 month grace period, correct?  I am asking you to do the same for me.  I cannot bear the thought of these children being separated from one another.  Even if it is temporary.  Will you grant me the same extension?  I am currently looking at alternative accommodations for the children. I can act within this time period.  The children need me.  We are a family".  Evelyn said yes, they would give me this extension.  She asked me if I am willing to meet with Agnes next week.  "Certainly.  It's the only thing to do".  Or arrest her, I wanted to say.  We settled on Wednesday at 1:30.  We all made small talk for the next few minutes, and I departed, thanking each of these officers profusely.

In the meantime, I resigned from the Board of Directors of Nagolie.  I texted the chairman, and followed through with a fairly scathing letter to him.  The end of my message to Nganga, the 'Chairman':

I hereby resign from the Board of Directors of Nagolie.  I want no part of a board that is inactive, disinterested and corrupt.  It is easier for me to fight for the children and their rights, under [The Children Act, 2001 No 8] independently, surrounded by competent, caring people to assist.   You have single handedly made this board look stupid and inept. 

I will continue to fight for these children, and remain under the protection of the American Embassy in Nairobi, as well as the United Nations.

I Resign.

Today, Emmanuel, always the eyes and the ears of the home, reported to me that there were several members of the board at Farmers, "arguing and making noise at one another".  One must know Emmanuel to appreciate his reporting of events at the home and in the community.  Even when his news is serious, I laugh.  His delivery is comedy gold.  When I started laughing at his description of Agnes screaming, it was all he needed to progress to the next level.  He got caught watching and listening, and his description of Agnes and her cousin Stanley shaking their finger at him, as they got into her car, had me on the floor.

Here's where the real resolution comes in:

Two years ago, Tony and his wife offered to give me their 1/4 acre plot of land to build my own home.  I was thoroughly moved by this offer... speechless, really.   We discussed this for awhile, agreeing to reopen the conversation at a later date.  When Tony picked me up at the airport 9 days ago, he brought up the topic again.  He was clearly distressed by what was happening at the home; when it comes to the children, we share sentiment:  it's all about them.  "Simmie, my wife and I want to give you this land.  We can build a mabati home on the property and have it completed by the time you return in April". Mabati is the word for metal sheets, a common building material here in Kenya.  I have been in several mabati homes:  A foundation is laid. Metal sheets are nailed to the the wooden frame; windows are installed and walls inside are plastered, or the Kenyan version of sheet rock is hung.  There are many, many mabati homes, churches and schools in Kenya.

A mabati community center, close to us:

Tony and I have scoped out his plot 3 different times this week.  The land is 3 km from Nagolie, but because it sits 2 kms off the tarmac, the walking distance to Ereteti is the same.  The setting is bucolic and magnificent.  I will have to pipe in water and bring in electricity, but this is not an issue.  Both are easily accessible.  Black cotton soil abounds, which is ideal for growing crops.  There are several available plots abutting Tony's - the asking price right now is 6000USD per 1/4 acre plot.  We are meeting a fundi (contractor) tomorrow morning for an estimate on building a structure which I have put to paper:  one large building with 2 separate wings and a common area in the center.  4 outhouses; solar powered outdoor showers and separate kitchen with energy efficient jiko.  If the estimate is within the budget, I will have my attorney draw up an agreement, with terms to be determined, but something like this: a 25 year lease at 100KES a month (under $1USD), payable to Tony.   

The view off in the distance:

A neighboring shamba

Here, I am standing, facing north:

Tony, measuring the plot:

I have often wondered, sometimes aloud: what have I done in this life to find myself face to face with Agnes, the most evil and corrupt human being I have ever encountered?  I have concluded that the last 5 years have been a gift, the necessary preparation to start my own home.  If I can deal with Agnes, I can face any obstacle that crosses my path.  It is time.  Taking her home is no longer an option, because it is hers, and there needs to be separation.  These past 5 years have given me strength, perseverance, and an incredible drive;  a deep love of 29 children and their mother country.  I have been fortunate enough to meet wonderful and supportive people in this community, all who have encouraged me to take this next step and will help make it a reality. They are all saying the same thing:  it's about time.

The events of the past 9 days have been tiring, yet rewarding.  Tonight, I am thinking about the future, and am energized and excited about what is in store.  The children have not been told about these plans, but they know exactly what is going on.  On the way home tonight with our boys, Simon asked me how much longer until we have 'our' home.  I hedged, but he persisted: "Will we be in a new home when you come back in April?  You know, Auntie Simmie.  We need to be together in peace.  We know what you are doing, and we are very thankful. I hugged Simon good night.  "Nakupenda, Simon.  Wewe pamoja baadaye".  We will be together soon.

With a full heart and much optimism for the future, good night from Kenya.

With love, 

Simmie and Papa