Kenyan who refused to be defined by his ethnicity

This week we laid my friend Owino Magana to rest in dusty, hot but serene Nyamboyo village, Karateng’ Kisumu County. This being the second piece I will have written about death in the last 12 months one might conclude I am over consumed by this saddest of human occurrences. Death gives me no unusual interest, but the truth is that death gives opportunity for reflection and lesson learning. You, my reader are unfortunately condemned to reflect and learn along with me.

Permit me to share Owino’s story for three reasons. One is personal. Owino was my friend. For many years we shared many great moments and uplifting conversations. I must however confess that in his final months, I was absent. Vibrant, hilarious, proud, witty Owino died lonely. Me and many of his friends, busy with the mundane things that occupy our time, had deserted him in his last months as he struggled with the vagaries of life after returning from a long sojourn in Rwanda.