Woman traces her way back after being snatched by 'strange woman' 16 years ago

 Joyce Mumbi [Photo: Courtesy]

A deformed pinky finger and a hunger to piece together the remnants of her childhood memories led Joyce Mumbi home, 16 years after she was snatched from her parents by a strange woman.

The woman called the little girl into her house as she was playing with other children in the neighbour-hood. She wore a long, pleated skirt and a head wrap -- a style typically favoured by women of Akorino denomination. The friend who had been trusted by Joyce Mumbi’s mother to watch the child was nowhere in sight.

“I’ll give you something nice,” the woman promised.

A trusting girl, Mumbi followed the woman. Little did the four-year old Mumbi know this one act would lead to a life of misery. She thought the woman would give her sweets. But on entering the woman’s house, she was given bitter tea and urged to drink it.

“She told me that it was dawa. I started feeling dizzy after taking the tea,” Mumbi remem-bers. “The next thing I knew it was getting dark and I could hear people outside frantically calling my name. But I was too weak to respond.”

Later that night the mysterious woman arranged for a pick-up truck and packed eve-

rything in the house. Under the cover of darkness she moved to a new town with little

Mumbi.

As Mumbi tells her story, tears which refuse to fall, dance in her eyes. A beautiful grown woman now with a delicate bearing, she recounts a story that many like her, never get the chance to.

A life of begging Kidnapped in 2002 and now, 16 years later, the pain etched on her face is still fresh. The tea in front of her grows cold, untouched.

She later came to learn that the place where the Mukorino woman had moved to was Kiambu town. The woman introduced Mumbi to begging.

“Every day she would take me to a busy street and lay me down. She always covered me from head to toe and strictly instructed me not to move or stand. In front of me she placed a piece of paper on which she had written something. I couldn’t read, so I don’t know what it said. Passers-by would read and throw money onto the paper.”

Mumbi was left in the streets all day every day with neither food nor water. She was also frequently beaten and emotionally abused. The woman, whom Mumbi reluctantly started calling “mum”, would pick her up in the evening without fail. Mumbi doesn’t know where her kidnapper disappeared to during the day.

Daily targets

She would demand that the child must collect a certain amount of money every day. If Mumbi failed to hit the target, the woman would have her stop passers-by and beg from them.

“She had me tell people that ‘my mother and I’ hadn’t eaten and we didn’t have a place to sleep. Kind-hearted people would take pity on us and invite us into their homes and feed us.

But she would instruct me to say that I was sated so she could have my share of the food.” On Sundays, Mumbi and her kidnapper would attend Akorino church. “She would be there singing loudly and dancing in church, like she was the holiest of women. She told people she was my mother and nobody ever questioned it.”

Mumbi doesn’t remember exactly how long she lived with her kidnapper. She estimates that it might have been a year or so. She only remembers that they celebrated one Christmas together. The rescue Mumbi was saved one evening when the kidnapper was late to pick her up. It was a rainy evening and the little girl stood in a corner shivering. A nice woman took pity on her.

“I told her I was waiting for my mother. She took me home with her, fed me, and clothed me. The next day she took me to the chief ’s once in Kiambu.”

The chief questioned Mumbi and was dismayed to learn that the child was being used for begging. When her ‘mother’ was found, the case was reported at Kiambu Police Station. Everyone still assumed Mumbi was the woman’s daughter and the case might have been on neglect, not kidnapping.

Mumbi was later taken to Pendekezo Letu Children’s Home while her kidnapper was jailed. It was the last she saw of her ‘mother’ who might have moved on to prey on other innocent children. She lived there for about a year before she was moved to St Paul’s Children’s Home in Ngong. That is where she has lived for most of her life.

Scraps of memory

Didn’t she remember her parents at all? I prod. “I didn’t have any memories of my parents at all.”

Might it have been something in her drink that scrapped her memories? I wonder aloud. We will never know, as Mumbi is none the wiser.

“I only started recovering my memory after I finished primary school. I recalled that my mother’s name was Wanjiru and my father’s was Njoroge. I had a big sister called Muthoni, same as my grandmother.

The name Gachie came to mind and I assumed it was where my grandmother lived.”

But those scraps of memory didn’t help Mumbi much at the time. “The director at the children’s home took me to Gachie and we looked around but I couldn’t recognise anything. But after that I developed a strong desire to find my people, especially my mum.

I had so many questions in my mind. Were they dead or alive? Had they forgotten me? Were they looking for me?” Years later, Mumbi left the children’s home. She was in Second Form in high school and life at the home wasn’t rosy. Since then, she has worked as a house help.

“I managed to register for KCSE exams while still working as a house help. But because I had been out of school for about two years, I didn’t perform so well. ”

Heaven sent Facebook

She decided to look for her parents with the hope that they might take her to college. She went to the five different chiefs in Gachie and asked if they knew of a family that had lost a daughter. The search bore no fruits.

As a last resort, she posted her story on Facebook. “I hoped that someone out there would know my people and help me re-unite with them. But immediately after posting, I started second guessing myself.

Not all the comments were positive or helpful. Some people would imply that I was lying, while others would claim to know who I was without anything to back their claims.”

However, the post fi nally led Mumbi to her family. Within a few days, the post was shared in most of the trending groups and went viral. I first contacted her for an interview after seeing her post on Facebook. At the time, she had also been contacted by Kameme FM.

“The announcer told me several people had asked if Kameme FM could help me find my parents. They helped me screen the people who were claiming to know me. I didn’t want to trust just anybody. I have learnt that not everyone can be trusted.”

The deformed pinky finger

One of the people who contacted her mentioned that she might be related to Mumbi. Her cousin had lost a sister around the same time I went missing. The little girl’s name had been Mumbi, and one of her pinky fi ngers was deformed from a spider bite.

“When she mentioned the deformed finger, I knew I had fi nally found my people! I hadn’t mentioned that little detail in my post. I was later given my sister’s number but was unsure whether I could trust her.

The radio station followed up and established that they might be my real family.” The radio station organised for Mumbi to re-unite with her sister and grand-mother. Sadly, she learned that her parents had passed away.

“The moment I looked at them, I just broke into tears,” Mumbi says. “My sister’s complexion is lighter but she has a dimple like mine. I felt a sense of kinship with them.

“But I was heartbroken to learn that my parents had died. I haven’t been told how they died yet but I know my mother died the year after I was kidnapped. It might have been from the stress of losing me. I haven’t come to terms with the fact that I will never meet her.”

Just a week ago, (two days before this interview) Mumbi was officially handed over to her family by Kameme FM. She met her maternal uncles and visited her mother’s grave. She’s tentatively working on building a relationship with her new family.

“It’s overwhelming. While I have no doubts that they are who they say they are, they are still strangers to me. Because of what I’ve gone through, I find it hard to trust easily.”

Is her birth name Joyce Mumbi?

“Yes. Luckily, the kidnapper didn’t give me a different name.” Has she forgiven her kidnapper? Mumbi looks away. “I don’t know. I still feel so bitter towards her. Why did she do this to me? I don’t want to ever see her again.”

20-year-old Mumbi dreams of going back to school. With her grandmother too old to take up the responsibility and her parents gone, she is looking for well-wishers to help her achieve that dream.

“I want to be an IGCSE teacher. That is something I’m passionate about and I’m sure it will help me better my life.”