IT AIN'T FAIR.
When people were struggling to hold to their jobs at the onset of Covid, my colleague quit his lucrative managerial job to start a CBO. Toxic work environment? Too much workload? Micromanagement? Broken Commitments? I am not sure what his reasons for quitting were. What I am sure of is, he had zero savings and he had not won a lottery nor secured a donation to start a CBO.
Three months later, Wheels of Hope was up and running. Combining his passion for cycling and his desire to assist others, Wheels of Hope Community Based Organization breathed life. Collins, together with his team, used bicycles to take the message of hope to teenage mothers and young girls in Kilifi County.
Collins together with his team have a Drop-A-Pad-With-A-Bike program to tackle period poverty; Life-skills and mentorship sessions in schools and during holidays; Community sensitizations in collaboration with various partners in Kilifi county; A-Bike-A-Home program where they give marginalized boys and girls bikes to tackle several issues key among the teen pregnancies and mental health issues. They also have a rescue/daycare centre where we take care of teen mothers’ kids in Bomani Kikambala as they take the teen mums back to school/vocational courses.
His decision did not make sense to me. The crumbs of generosity and kindness I possessed did not convince me enough that he was making the right decision. When he was fundraising for the finances, I offered the much I could. Or the much my heart convinced me that it was much enough but my enough for my pocket not to feel the pinch.
One thing that I took from him and fell in love with, was the bike. I called him to approve of the black mamba bike I had. He was frank to tell me it was good for exercise… I knew he was telling me I could get a better one. I went ahead to acquire a bike for my brother and myself and he was impressed that we had upgraded to hybrid bikes. Not too far but not too heavy. And the desire to belong in a cycling team crept in. I promised him to start Wheels of Hope in Eldoret.
That did not happen. I joined Mama Cycling UG chapter and became active in the group rides and group affairs. The only time we engage with my friend was viewing each other’s status and asking how the ride was. I am happy he introduced me to cycling.
A month’s experience softened my heart and Collins can attest that my contribution to his course increased. I saw from firsthand experience what it meant not just in providing the desired help to the girls but most significantly, what it meant to the girls who are the beneficiaries.
Hardly had I immersed myself in full appreciation of what it means to be there for the girls so that I can be of more help to my friend than my friend called me telling me he had thrown in the towel. His bike was stolen a few months ago.
The sad news hit me hard. He sent back home the 13 teen mothers to their homes, 2 went ahead to be married as second wives. Those who were in high school and vocational centres have accumulated fee balances that are no longer manageable for them. The landlord is knocking in his shelter, demanding his dues or he closes the premises.
A few months ago, I would have rushed to my bazooka to unleash the, ‘I told you, ‘I knew it, ‘it was only a matter of time,’ missiles to him. But not now. Not after what I have come to appreciate. It weakened me and broke the heart that was already softening.
Which oak trees do you guys go and pluck funds? Or how do you jot down those killer proposals that magnets the donors?
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