Kwaheri Kenya, Kwaheri James

“Kwaheri” in Kiswahili means “goodbye.” This word has turned out to be a chillingly appropriate descriptor for my last days in Kenya. As some of you might already know, a very dear friend of mine and CEO of the Fadhili Community organization I have been volunteering through for the past 5 months just passed away. Around 12 am Kenyan time on Saturday the 5th of December, James Njuguna was shot and killed while in his car. Apparently, the details to the best of my knowledge are as follows. A group of muggers trailed his car from another location and followed him home, and when he stopped at the gate of his compound, they jumped out with guns ablaze. The gatekeeper noticed this, and pushed the button to alarm the security team. Pandemonium ensued, with neighbors peeking out windows and screaming as the muggers shot randomly into the compound, leaving visible bullet holes in two of James’ neighbors’ windows. The thugs approached the car, and demanded that they open the windows, pointing their guns squarely at James and my other very dear friend Chomlee, the driver for Fadhili who was also present. James told Chomlee not to comply, and in a somewhat questionable move decided to attempt to hide his brand new iphone he was just showing off to me only weeks earlier, bursting with pride and excitement. He loved that thing, and reached back discreetly to shove the iphone into the back seat pocket. This attracted the thugs’ attention, and they all came around to James’ window, still demanding that he open the windows and hand over all his possessions. The chaos was only intensifying, and one of the muggers back at their vehicle suggested to the man with the gun pointed at James that they had better make themselves scarce because the alarm was already triggered and surely reinforcements were on their way. In what can only be surmised as a move of completely desperate frustration, the exasperated mugger turned to James, and shot him point blank in the chest, the bullet piercing his heart, all the way to his stomach and exiting out his back. James slumped over, painfully extracting the words “Chomlee, they shot me” from his dying lips. Chomlee finally unlocked the doors and the muggers promptly still insisted on taking everything the both of them had; phones, wallets, money, etc. After that, the thugs quickly departed, and Chomlee raced off to the hospital to save his dying friend. Tragically, though the hospital was a mere two minutes away, James passed away en route. He was just 30 years old.

Unfortunately, as it goes in Kenya, if James was a white person, this story would be flooding the headlines and making all kinds of noise. But as one of my journalist friends bluntly but honestly stated to me, the papers see James as “just another random Kenyan” who fell victim to being an unfortunate target as another well-off black Kenyan resented by others in desperate situations. Little do they know he was anything but.

James had a love for life that was undeniable. Although he wasn’t always the most organized, showed up late and even cancelled meetings often, NO ONE could deny the passion and commitment that he had for what he called his “vision”: making the lives of Kenyan children better. Although we didn’t always see eye to eye on everything, I could be sure of one thing: we would still have love for one another. I remember from nearly the first time I met him, James used to tell me almost every time we saw each other how much he loved me, how he loved my energy and my personality and that he just enjoyed being around me, and I thought the same of him. It actually used to jar me a bit and caught me off guard, especially the first time he said to me in a room full of people with the utmost sincerity: “Alexi, I love you.” Although I never doubted those words coming out of his mouth, the conviction he said it with was almost overwhelming, especially given the number of people he meets in any given day, let alone a month or year. How was I so deserving of this man’s love and admiration?

Not only did James dedicate his life to ameliorating the lives of his fellow Kenyans through the creation of his orphanage, which I’ve had the pleasure of visiting on a few occasions, but in the process he also found ways to ensure that his beautiful family was well-taken care of, despite the amount of tragedies that have occurred for them. James’ sister died in the arms of her young son Tony, now thirteen, who was adopted by another sister of James’ named Grace, who was my host mother during my stay in Kenya. This marks the third sibling that Grace has had to lay to rest, with another brother passing away at a young age. Not only was James a brother, but he was a husband to a gorgeous wife also named Grace, and a preciously beautiful baby girl named Kelly, who is heartbreakingly not even a year old. He was also the only male figure in his sister Grace’s one year old son Roy’s life, his father having left at birth if not before. Over 50 orphans in the Madison Children's Home that James ran looked to him as a father, after he took them in when they had no one else in the world. Whoever pulled that trigger did not realize the affect it would have not only in Kenya, but all over the world. Volunteers from Thailand to Ireland to the US to Australia and everywhere in between have been flooding their facebook pages with kind messages mourning the loss of a great soul. Did this person not consider that the man he was about to murder in cold blood has a life, is a husband, brother, uncle, son, mentor, friend, coworker, provider, father…and just a fellow human being? I will never understand this. I cannot even pretend to. Taking the life of another human being, under ANY circumstances, is in my book unforgivable. No matter what that person has done. Death at the hands of another human being is NEVER the answer.

All I have left to assuage my pain and confusion are the happy memories that we shared during the time I was lucky enough to spend with James. I will never forget the actual last words he spoke to me in person a week or so ago when I was going through a very difficult time: “Alexi, you know I still love you”; riding both of us shoved in the tiny trunk of his car through Naivasha; his goofy but warm smile; the way he would speak about his “vision” with such loving passion; the photograph where he and Joe tricked me into being picked up in their arms…not realizing I was in a skirt!; seeing him lovingly holding his daughter Kelly; hearing him gush about his wife and even pulling me aside the first time I met her to say “see, isn’t she the most beautiful woman in the world?”; witnessing his dedication to his church and God firsthand at several ceremonies he led; and just his presence when he walked into a room. These are the thoughts that I hope I’ll be able to use to push out the haunting images of my own creation about what he went through during his final hours.

This has been a very difficult time for me. It is challenging everything I thought I believed about human nature and the innate good I used to so painstakingly insist existed in people, and I am struggling to defend it at this time in my life. My spirit feels crushed. I hope these feelings will go away with time, and I know I have a strong support system around me who will keep me stable and on my path. But as terribly devastated as I know I am feeling, I can still only really think of those most affected by the situation, James’ lovely wife and daughter, my host mom Grace, the rest of his family, his closest friends including one of my best friends out here Izzo, all the Fadhili staff, and especially Chomlee who witnessed the entire thing and lived to see another day. I cannot even fathom what they are going through. So for this reason, I ask you please not to waste your pity on me, but please please please keep these people in your thoughts and prayers. They are the real victims here, and although they may be strangers to you, they are all someone to somebody out there, as is every single person in this vast world.

I am leaving Kenya in just two days, on the 8th of December. I cannot wait to see my friends and family and be able to hug everyone again. Situations like this just really make you realize how fragile life is, and how quickly everything can be taken from you with no warning. Thank you all for following my blog during this tumultuous journey of mine….it has been such a series of ups and downs, unlike anything else I have ever experienced in my life. As always I apologize for not writing as much as I maybe should have, but I am always open to chatting in person or however about my time spent here. I hope to be reporting again on new adventures in the future, and will keep you all in the loop as it happens if you so desire. Please stay safe this holiday season, hold your loved ones and tell them every day how much they mean to you…in honor of those who are no longer able to do the same.

Much love and peace, Alexi

-6th December, 2009