Born second, in an family of 9, and first among 4 males, my early childhood is a story of sweet parental love and great concern. I stated my schooling even before formally registering at a school. At an early age of 2, I often accompanied my father or my mother (then a primary schoolteacher) to class (when they went to teach) and started learning the school curriculum even before I joined school!
Moreover, I was like a source of parental leisure; coaching me was my father's fixated hobby. He derived maximal pleasure coaching me on how to read, write and perform basic arithmetic problems at all his free time, never relenting, even when play demanded that I run away. When I was formally enrolled for pre-unit (nursery) class at the then
Somehow, my performance in Class 1 (Grade 1) end-of-term one exams was par excellence and implied that my entry behaviour was much higher than the class mean; I wasn not learning anything new in that class. In second term, same year (1982), I was accelerated to class 2, courtesy of my stubbornness, restlessness, and apparent boredom in the class. To this acceleration, I remain indebted to Madam Sind and Mama Patricia Ombuor (now an octogenerian). Still, my academic performance was kind-of above those of pupils of class 2. However, my class teacher, (then Ms Sind), arguing that my age (now approaching 6 years) and physical ability (still very young) would not allow me to socially interact with older pupils and to learn from the class dynamics of Class 3 pupils, insisted that I stay in class 2 for the rest of the year. I stayed in class 2 upto the end of the year (1982). Then, my normal academic progression begun. In 1983, I was progressed to class 3, and later, transferred to
The victories of my early childhood notwithstanding, there were critical moments of this time that I often choose not to remember. I was a sickling throughout my childhood. Much of my school days was spent either in hospitals or at home nursing swollen feet, or knees, or a twisted neck. Due to poor diagnosis of disease in rural ans resource-poor settings in
The encouragement I received from my family, during my critical childhood, and specifically the socio-emotional support of my mother, and spiritual nurturance from my 'other mama' Min Achienge, forever remain critical points that taught me of the value of interdependence as the highest virtue of humanity, much higher than independence. The happy memories of my grandmama Adie, the maternal instincts of my mama and the nobility and diplomatic persona of my father remain significant indicators of my path to becoming a person.
Upon completing primary school, I joined
By advice of my father, through the support of my cousin Edward Kauma, I was transferred to the famed
My performance in KCSE was an expected surprise for my family. My father was on a warpath. He had never expected me to get a score less than that allowing me to get a direct entry to the university to study medicine, which in his judgment (and I concede) I had the potential of. The year 1993 become such an eye-opener for me. After the KCSE results were out in March 1993, my father gave me a blank cheque. Realising that I was already conditioned into learned helplessness and self-doom, he asked me to introspect and decide on my true essence of existence. He asked me to think about whatever I adjudged as suitable to define my future and write and whatever amount I judged as practical to help me realise this self-determined goal. He asked me to write my decision on a blank piece of paper, the blank cheque. Boredom, self-blame, dejection, and regrets greeted me every morning I woke up and saluted me in the evening as I retired to bed.
On the morning of March 23rd, 1993, after an extended experience of cognitive dissonance for close to one month, I woke up and cursed my self. I swore loudly that I must get back to school and prove all and sundry wrong, that I was not a wasted person, that I still possessed my true essence, that I was not going to remain in the societal dreg. I sw the need to stretch out of my confort zone! Quick, I went to my mother and told her to help me find a school, where I would resit my Secondary education examination. She thought for a while, then left me there, where I remained sitting, still feeling dejected. Later that evening, she called and told me that one Mr Arum, would help me get a school. My father appreciated my move to resit the exam.
I was admitted to Wang'apala Secondary School, in Kadongo (in the neignourhood) in second term. My resolve to achieve catapulted me out of my academic limbo. I rededicated myself to academia. Although I only had five months to get ready for the exams, I was determined to get a grade that would guarantee university entry. I sat the exam later in the year and obtained a score of B. With this performance, I was assured of University admission. However, I did not get my target, an A that would guarantee my admission to the medical school. I was however admitted to Moi University in 1995 to pursue a Bachelor of Education degree, graduating with a 2nd Class Upper Honours degree inn 1999.
My desire to be more than a secondary school teacher could not allow me to settle for school teaching alone. The thirst for academic achievement unquenchable, and my ambition be a health professional unrelenting, I again enrolled at Moi University in 2000 for a Master of Philosophy degree in Psychology. My father, encouraged and happy with my rekindled academic flame, pumped a big portion of his retirement lump-sum benefits to facilitate my scholarship. He remained a significant model and sponsor through our my graduate school. I also received immeasurable support from Professors Ndege and Amuka, and Dr Kodero, my academic mentors. I graduated top of my class with an MPhil degree in 2003, specializing in Educational and Community Psychology. Unsatisfied, I again enrolled for a PhD degree program in Public Health Planning at Maseno University in 2007. Although I successfully defended the thesis and is set to graduate this year (2009), I believe that I am still on a long path to becoming a person. And my story continues....
