Ridicule that bred promise

By Nicholas Asego

Looking at the man swirling comfortably in his chair behind the expensive desk sipping black coffee, one cannot imagine the harsh journey he has made so far.

When he strides in his fine leather shoes and striped suit, the assumption is that all is well. He exudes affluence and style as well as confidence to match. But in the shining shoes Stanley’s Kamau’s feet bear evidence of toes that were once ravaged by jiggers, a relic that 41 years have not eradicated.

But more than the physical scars are emotional scars that have turned him into a renowned anti-jigger crusader.

He pauses mid-sentence, a cloud of unfavourable moments in the past crowding his face as if they had happened yesterday. "To compound my suffering, I stammered and could not react to the students either verbally or physically," he adds.

Unable to take the ridicule any more, he quit school and opted to stay at home, joining a number of other pupils who had been pushed out of school due to similar circumstances.

Feet suffered reprieve

Luckily enough, his parents — Stephen Maina and Sarah Wanjiku — managed to convince him to go back to school and, as luck would have it, his feet suffered a reprieve.

"A friend who was a member of the Akorino faith, which I had joined in Standard Six, gave me a pair of gumboots," he recalls.

These and some old and oversized shoes from church members served him through his primary education.

He joined Iyego Secondary School, which was 12 kilometres from his home. So, every morning he walked to and from. This was a huge task for his feet which were not used to shoes.

"I used to get home every evening with swollen feet," he says. He later joined Jumbi High School for his A-levels.

After his high school, his parents fundraised for him to join Marathwada University, Aurangabad in India where he graduated with a Bachelor of Commerce degree and a higher diploma in Sales and Marketing in 1995.

Prior to his journey to India, he had operated small businesses at Nairobi’s Kenyatta Market.

"I used to sell bananas and mandazis and even to this day whenever you mention Kamau wa bananas, they will direct you to me," he says. It was a dog’s life characterised by hide and seek from the City Council askaris.

When he came back from India, he quickly sought his friends at Kenyatta Market and met a lady who dealt with properties and real estate. "I acted as her messenger and she paid me some little money," he says.

Soon, he got bolder and asked her if he’d be an agent for her for a commission and she agreed.

"I rented part of her office and paid her from my commissions."

He soon moved and got his own office nearby and used a telecommunication booth as his office line. Within two years, he had moved on to another office as he established himself as a real estate and property agent.

Though he could have settled to enjoy his hard earned money, the childhood memories of his struggles with jiggers could not just fade away.

"In 2000, I began a programme whereby I would send money to a church in my village to help feed the less fortunate every Christmas," he says.

Giving back to community

The Christmas treat was a way of giving back to the community. This he did for five years before he decided to join the beneficiaries in 2006 for a Christmas party. What he thought would be a happy reunion took a different path that changed his life completely.

"I found many people were not at the party and the pastor informed me that they had been disabled and could not even walk to church," he says.

Kamau, could not believe what he had heard and set off immediately to see for himself. The first homestead he went to he found a whole family of five ravaged by jiggers.

"They could barely move from one room to another," he recalls.

The second homestead he found five children who could not even go to play outside — jiggers infested their hands and feet. But it was the third family that stopped him in his tracks.

"I found a six-year-old boy who was HIV-positive," he says with a tinge of sadness. The mother was also HIV-positive and by using the same metal rod to remove the jiggers she had passed on the virus to her son.

"This was when I realised that jiggers could actually be a matter of life and death," he says.

The following day he embarked on a sort of fact-finding mission to determine the extent of the ravage. His first stop was at the sub-chief’s office who acknowledged that though jiggers were a problem, she could do nothing much.

His next stop was at Murang’a Hospital where the same sense of helplessness prevailed.

"A doctor told me that they had never treated anyone suffering from jiggers. They only dealt with the sickness that brought them to the hospital," Kamau says.

As a matter of advice, the doctor recommended the use of kerosene to help alleviate the pain.

Fresh in his mind

The following day (December 27) Kamau returned to Nairobi, what he had seen still fresh in his mind. He went to another doctor friend who told him more about jiggers and that antiseptics could help.

Since he was to travel out of the country the following day, he bought many litres of antiseptic and asked his parents to distribute to the affected families. When he later called to find out how the distribution was, he was shocked.

"You have brought us problems, everyone wants the treatment and the antiseptic is over," he heard the father say. He was forced to order for some more and find someone to take to the village.

When he came back, he did a quick survey to find out the extent of the problem in Gituge location. It involved talking to the chief and visiting schools. He found out that 1,340 adults and 780 school-going children were victims.

"In a location that had 14 schools, the number of children affected was quite high," he recalls.

Together with some of his friends, he decided to do something. "At first, many laughed when I asked them to join hands we fight jiggers," he recalls.

They thought that jiggers were just a simple matter of hygiene and asked him to think of serious issues. But some agreed and contributed money for buying antiseptics and setting up medical camps.

"Usijali hiyo ni ahadi. Tuta angamiza hizo funza (Don’t worry it’s a promise we will eradicate jiggers)," one of them told Kamau. And that was how the name of the organisation Ahadi Kenya Trust came about in February 2007.

To help create awareness he organised a conference at Nairobi’s Mamba Village and invited celebrities.

"I thought if musicians, artistes and radio personalities got involved it would give it a major boost."

Though many promised to join, he notes that Cecilia Mwangi and the late musician Paul Imbaya (King Kong) were the most enthusiastic.

This was followed by a media launch on March 31, 2007, which newspapers reported on April 1, a day known for fool’s day pranks.

"Many thought that it was all part of an April fool’s day prank," he laughs.

But consistent media coverage brought the issue to light and they soon got calls from Thika, Gatundu, Kiambu and the greater part of Central Province where the problem is rampant.

"Within a year we had visited all districts in Central and gone as far as Kericho," he says.

Since then, they have also attended over 300 burials from complications arising from jigger infestations in Central, Nyanza and Western provinces.

"There are over 500,000 people disabled, children have dropped out of school while other have developed mental problems all related to jiggers."

He realised the problem is even beyond the borders if the feelers send to Ahadi Trust are to be believed.

"We have moved to Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi and we have even been invited to Nigeria and South Africa," he says. Later this month he will be travelling to Tanzania on the same mission.

Locally, many people including politicians who were reluctant at first saying talking about jiggers was an embarrassment have joined the bandwagon.

A reason to smile

Currently, over 50 corporations have joined the campaign and sponsor the camps, while the Ministry of Public Health helps with fumigation.

At last Kamau has a reason to smile.

"I’m glad that everyone now is aware of the threat of jiggers to communities. The victims can also go to hospitals for treatment without any sense of shame," he says.

As I prepare to sum up our chat, I ask Kamau if he’s married or in a serious relationship. "I have found my love in God and my service to the community," he says with seriousness. But he is not ruling out anything.

For now, his effort is in fighting the menace and make families happy as a result.

And his efforts have been recognised. In 2009 the Trust won the third annual Leadership and Management Award, supported by the US Agency for International Development. The Kenyan team beat 13 other teams from around the world.

Last year, Ahadi also received a Humanitarian award from Laico Regency and a Head of State Commendation from the President in December.

The battle against jiggers is one that Kamau is not keen to lose. And he is unlikely to.