Sikizana Projects

INTRODUCTION

The Biography of Cosmas Mutinda Nzilili, the founding Chairman, Sikizana Trust for Community Development.

My name is Cosmas Mutinda Nzilili. I am the founding chairman Sikizana Trust for Community Development. I am the first born to Ndumi and James with for sisters and three brothers. I was born in 1974, (or earlier) September 7th. When I was in the primary school, my parents separated. My mother went my young sisters and I was left with my grandmother. This separation was catalysed by animosities between my mother and his sisters in law and so somehow my parents were still friends and they visited each other. This is normal in a purely African marriage. After sometime my mother came home but the father did not. He had settled in Mombasa did not care about our well being. My mother had no means of paying for us school fees and we dropped out. We sent the days searching for casual labour through which we got our daily meals. Everybody in the village and at school knew we were not going to school and were not about to.

AT around the time I was in class 4, a neighbour visited our home very early in the morning and suggested to my mother that I accompany her (the neighbour) to her place where I was to look after her cows while her children went to school. My mother is very polite and rarely would she want to offend somebody. She out of that nature decided not to commit herself. She instead told the woman that she would talk to me later and then respond. Two of that woman’s sons were my classmates in a class were I was always first position. Luckily and to my mother’s relief, I had overheard the whole story and got internally agitated. I hated my father at that moment. Why was he reluctant to educate us? What was he doing at Mombasa? Why work if I had also to work? I cannot remember precisely what I was thinking at that time but it was pretty terrible moment for me. I told my mother that I was leaving for Mombasa to face my Dad about my education. I cannot remember whether she bought my story but that evening I was on my way to Mombasa by train. I had no money however. What I did was to get into the train and hide under the passenger seats. The ticket examiner never spotted through out the journey and after eight hours I was at Mombasa. I had been there before so it was easy to trace my father through friends of his.

We met in the evening that day and first thing I wanted to know was when I would to school. He promised me (of course he lied) that it was his priority and in fact he had found a new school for me there in Mombasa. At that age I believe every child would believe his father. I took his words as the Gospel truth and waited to be taken to school. This was around the end of 1982. 1983 came but the school never came. I met a group of boys in the neighbourhood who also never went to school and developed some good relationship. I had always seen them leave very early in the morning and did not know what time they returned home. Slowly, I got attracted to their company. We would leave very early in the morning on foot, loiter all over the streets of Mombasa collecting scrap metal and toothpaste empty tubes. We would the sell them at a scrap metal dealer. A kilogram of Scrap metal went at 50 cents while that of toothpaste tubes was one shilling. When the day is good, we would each get about ten shillings. I do not know precisely what we did with the money although most of the time we gambled. I would also contribute to the evening meal with the balance. My father knew what I was doing but I not remember him cautioning me. (Later my immediate brother went through the same route at the time I had gone back to school. When I went to Mombasa and told my father what was likely to happen to my brother, he told off saying I should wait to have my own sons to control)

At the streets, we did many things. When we lacked scrap metal, we would anyone’s metallic object and sell it at the dealers place. We at times also snatch peoples’ items at the bus stations. This brought us problems with the police. At that juncture, I identified a cousin to my father who had a metal workshop. I found there were many metallic cut offs thrown away everyday. I de-linked myself from the other boys to avoid police and again because I detested gambling. I also found the Kenya National Library Service-Mombasa branch. I liked reading and this to me was the best thing to happen. I would work the all of the morning session and go to the library in the afternoon. There was a librarian who guided me on what books for my level. I read all the class four books, then class 5 and class 6. On the side, I still collected scrap metal. At this time also my mother was trying to reorganize herself and was starting a small business of buying cereals in the village and selling them in Mombasa. One morning in 1985, we met at the workshop where I used to collect the metal off-cuts. They, my mother, my father and their cousin had spent the whole of the previous night discussing about my education. My mother had approached their cousin to assist me resume education at his home, so my mother told me later. At the time we met, I had a sack load of scrap metal collected at the back yard of the workshop. After the normal traditional greetings of “Wakya” by the elder person and “Aaa” by the young ones I cautiously asked their cousin who was driving towards the scrap metal dealer’s shop to give me a lift to the shop. I rode at the back of the pick-up while my mother sat at the co-drivers seat. At the dealers place, my mother offered to help carry the sack. When the weighed the load, it was 16.5 KG worthy Kshs. 8.50. I remember seeing my mother weeping although it really did not bother me a lot. That done, my mother said I was to accompany them back to the workshop. Once there, she told me that they had agreed with their cousin that I would go to is rural home to resume school. This excited me a lot and they did not need a lot of effort to convince me. That evening we boarded a train to Mtito andei where the cousin’s home is. The following day we were there. I did not have the required uniform but the head-teacher accepted me as I was. We agreed with my mother that she supports my claim that I had completed class six. She did but the head-teacher insisted that I repeat that same class. To me it was a big relieve. In any case I was not going to Class 4.

There was however another problem to sort out. The government had changed the syllabus while I was away. There were new subjects that I had never read. My mother bought me the books I advised her to and started reading on my own. That second term, I was position one in class winning the admiration of all the teachers and a lot of support that I was to receive later. I proceeded on well to class seven and eight. During the December of 1986, as we waited to proceed to class eight, my fathers cousins business at Mombasa collapsed and he came home to do farming. He had also married a second wife whom he came with. For whatever reason, we could not tell, but he was very hostile to every body except his new wife. Sometimes she also received the wrath. In 1987, he did not want anybody to go to school. Not only me but also his sister was allowed to. At this time also, my Head-teacher, had also advised two of my classmates and I to apply for a free place at Starehe Boys Centre and School, a school for boys from poor families. We did that but one is required to excel very well to be considered.

When it was obvious that my guardian did not want me to proceed with learning, I opted to go back to my mothers home. Painfully, my mother had also got admitted to Hospital suffering from tuberculosis. Our home was literally deserted. I went to my maternal grandmother, because the hostility at my father’s extended family was still prominent. This must have disturbed my teachers very much because in a week time they sent for me saying they had got a solution for me. I went back and to my surprise, they actually had decided to give me a room at the nearest shopping center where I was to spend the remaining part of the year until exam time. There was nothing in the room except a fibre mat that I was bought by a relative. This served as my bed and reading table. I fetched water and washed utensils for the tea cafes at the center to get food. During weekends I went to the nearest farming where I would manual work and get enough money for the week. The classmates, neighbours and teachers helped all through whenever I had a difficult situation. For example, during the examination week, the head-teacher’s wife provided me with lunch all through.

I did the examination and packed my few items and went back home. My mother was still a sick ling, a situation that for short time brought my father home. The examinations results were very good. I had passed with 70 points out the maximum 72 points. I had also been offered a free place at Starehe Boys’ Centre together with a classmate- Sebastian Kimeu.

At Starehe, I identified much of myself. That is the time I found out what talents were in me. I found out that I was a Musician. I was introduced to volunteering and community service. I became a leader in the church and in the house. I started thinking about other people. I realized there were other boys who had come from more problematic situations than me. This is where my life was molded. It is through here that I found that there is people in the world who are so human that they could offer help to children they had never seen. I had sponsors from Britain, Austria and New Zealand. Non of these did I ever meet face to face but every time we wrote each other, there was such a sense of closeness that I felt like knew them like I knew my own mother. By the time I was leaving Starehe Boys four years later, something was clear in my mind. Education is the only sure route to people transformation. When I have the means I would endevour to avail education to others. I uphold this realization to date.

After four years, I joined the university of Nairobi to pursue Bachelor of Commerce and graduated four years later with a specialization in Finance. At the University, I received the Philanthropist of the Year Award for my efforts towards mobilizing students to volunteer at children homes and hospitals.

While I have achieved all these, (through peoples’ efforts) my immediate three siblings did not complete the primary level despite the fact that they were the best in their respective classes when they were in school. The last three and my own children are part of my effort to see that the Kibwezi children get education.

 

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