Musombi had promised Nanguti that he would take care of her and their children as best as he could. Missionaries from The Society Of Friends, also known as Quakers had settled in western Kenya where they built schools, health care centers and churches. A small hospital and school for girls were built at Lugulu near their home so Musombi asked mister Travers to release him so he can go work at the hospital as head chef. Working for the hospital would pay more enabling him to buy more land and raise more cattle.

Nanguti was the perfect housewife who had borne four children and was working on the fifth. She had fully utilized the five-acre land they owned by growing crops all year round. Maize and beans grew side by side. Bananas and sweet potatoes were next to their house. She raised cattle, goats and lots of chicken. While a lot of people hardly ate a decent meal, her family always had nutritional nourishment. A variety of green vegetables always accompanied the beef and chicken. For extra money, she turned her knowledge of medicinal herbs into a business providing cures for various ailments to all the labourers. Most of the time she used the barter system and exchanged medicine for seed or other goods.

Musombi, who had learned to read and write in English while still a cook’s helper, had taught his children the same. Now they were some of the first in the area to attend school. Most African families did not send their children to school. Instead they had them working on the farms with them. Musombi knew that education would enable his children to lead better lives by achieving goals only available to Europeans. He was sure they could grow up to be teachers, doctors, engineers or anything else they wanted to be. Nanguti thought her husband was a dreamer, but she indulged him by waking the children up every school day, cleaning them up, feeding them, dressing them smartly and walking them to school. Nevertheless, she had no interest in education for herself.

“I’m too set in my ways for that,” she said. “The children seem happy that they are learning new things. It might be good for them to learn about others’ cultures and ways of life. Maybe someday they will travel to foreign lands and come back to tell me what animals and trees are there.”

“I’d like for them to travel,” Musombi said. “I’m glad you are letting me steer them towards what I believe in, Nanguti.”

“It’s the work of a good wife to support her husband,” Nanguti smiled at him.

“Furthermore, I like your vision. You’re a curious type, an adventurer. You want to know all there is to know and if you can’t know it all, you want your children to know it for you.”

“You know me all too well, my wife,” he walked over to the corner and got him some water from a pot. The water was refreshingly cold though it was not refrigerated. The porous pot cooled it naturally. He gulped it down then sat in a chair. “Nanguti, I want to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?”

“Some missionaries, Mr. and Mrs. Walker are coming to this area and they want to live with ‘natives’ so to speak because they think being like us will encourage Africans to join Christianity. Well, everybody knows how receptive I am to white people so they have asked to come and stay in our house.”

“Hmm. Is this because when you proposed I told you I would consider becoming a Christian if one of them came and lived like us?”

“Oh no,” Musombi said smiling as he recalled the conversation. “But I’m hoping you will at least give it a chance.”

“Ok then. Let them come and live with us. I’m glad you actually asked me about it. I know most men would have just told me they were bringing in guests instead of asking. I thank you for that.”

“Nanguti, by now you should know that I have more respect for you and our marriage than that. No dictation in this family. We make decisions together.”

“You’re a wonderful man, Musombi. Did Christianity make you this way or were you born that way?”

“My mother raised me this way. A man’s relationship with his wife or other women in general is determined by his relationship with his mother. My mother proved to me that women could be as strong as men in many ways. She raised me to respect her and all other women and treat them as equals. Furthermore, how else could I treat you? You’re the perfect wife and mother. I’m the envy of many men, you know.”

Nanguti giggled like a shy girl

“And you’re the perfect husband and father, little man,” she said. He smiled. He liked her calling him little man because she was at her most affectionate whenever she did so. It was a term of endearment, not belittlement.

David and Ann Walker arrived two days later. Mr. Travers’ servant brought them over from the train station on a horse carriage.. They only had two suitcases and a couple of bags which was surprising since Europeans always traveled with dozens of pieces of luggage. They looked quite pale and very young. They were in their early twenties. The clean-shaven David looked like a seventeen year-old boy, and Ann didn’t look much older, slender as she was. Musombi, Nanguti and their children stood in line all dressed up and smiling.

“Jambo,” David said his hand reaching out to Musombi. That seemed to break the ice. In the house they were shown a room at the end of the hallway. It was simply furnished with a bed, two wooden chairs and a desk with a kerosene lantern.

“I apologize for this humble dwelling,” Musombi said. “We don’t have running water. There’s a pit latrine and a shed for bathing outside.

“This is wonderful,” Ann said looking around. “We’ve done a lot of camping so the lack of indoor plumbing does not bother us much. I am sure we shall overcome any obstacles and learn to adjust to life here with you. We’re very grateful to you for taking us into your home.”

They took baths and napped before coming out to supper. Nanguti didn’t know what the Walkers liked so she made a little of everything. Chicken and beef stew, plantains, sweet potatoes, greens, corn meal and Musombi baked a vanilla cake.

“So, are you all Christians?” David asked as they ate.

“Me and the children are,” Musombi said. “but Nanguti is a bit reluctant.”

“May I ask why?” David asked.

“She says there’s nothing wrong with her beliefs.”

“What beliefs?”

“Belief in her ancestors. She can pray to them for guidance, health and knowledge. She has an oral history of them and remembers volumes of advice and information passed down through the years. She knows where she came from and who she is. That, she says, is all she needs.”

“Very interesting,” Jane said. “but who put those ancestors here on Earth?”

“God.”

“So she believes in God?” It was David again.

“Yes, she believes a supreme being put our ancestors here and left them to their own devices.”

“God is here with us always. He loves us, takes care of us and demands our obedience to Him.”

Musombi translated for Nanguti.

“I neither obey nor pray to Him, but I do fine,” Nanguti said.

“But where will you go when you die?” David asked. “You can only go heaven if you believe in Jesus Christ, God’s only child.”

“Your God, your Jesus. They have nothing to do with me.”

“So you will just give up and go to hell?” Jane asked.

“Again, hell is yours. I will go join my ancestors when I die. I will neither go to your heaven nor hell.”

“I respect your opinion,” David said. “Maybe in time you will come to know Jesus but for now, let’s enjoy your wonderful meal.”

“Let me ask you just one question,” Nanguti spoke to David through Musombi.

“Supposing some strangers came to your land and they had these powers with them. Suppose they could heal the sick just by looking at them. Suppose they could turn water into milk. Suppose they could turn barren land to fertile. How many people would follow them and believe in anything they said?”

“A lot of people would, I imagine,” David answered after a pause.

“Would you follow them and abandon your beliefs?”

“No, I wouldn’t. The devil comes in many forms and that could be one of them. I would never abandon Jesus.”

“Thank you very much,” Nanguti said. “Now maybe you understand my position.”

“You have one clever wife there,” Jane told Musombi.

“I know,” Musombi said with a smile.

In the next few days, David sought a piece of land where he could build a small church. In the meantime he administered services from under a huge tree on Musombi’s farm. Children were more receptive to his tales of Jesus’ parables. Children were also just curious of white people. Especially ones who were kind to them. Soon parents were curious. His sermons were translated into the vernacular Bukusu language by Musombi as David learned Swahili as well as Bukusu.

Jane, on the other hand was learning the native languages quicker so she could teach the children English. But she also bonded with Nanguti always fascinated by her wisdom, kindness and tenacity. This was a young mother who had never set foot in a classroom yet was very knowledgeable. For days Jane followed her around observing her go through daily chores and rituals. Jane also observed other goings-on. One day she observed something she considered most inhumane; the slaughter of a cow.

The cow was chosen then led to the place of slaughter which is an area underneath a tree where the grass was worn to bare ground. A rope was tied on one rear leg then looped around the other rear leg and pulled bringing the two legs together. The rope was then tugged tripping the cow which fell on the ground with a thud. The front legs were tied pulling all four legs together. A wooden pole was pushed underneath the rope and levered against the cow’s stomach. Its head was held back as the throat was slit open by a long sharp knife. A basin was held underneath the neck to catch the blood which splattered like water from a pressured hose. Nanguti brought a cup, dipped it in the blood and scooped a cupful which she proceeded to drink. Meanwhile Jane still watched in horror as the cow, its eyes wide open, struggled under the pressure of the pole. It breathed in and out, in and out. In time the breaths slowed down and when she thought it was dead, it inhaled deeply. It took the cow over twenty minutes of pain and struggle before it died. Jane was appalled even though everybody else took it all in stride. A slit throat and twenty minutes to die is cruel and unusual punishment. For many nights thereafter, she had nightmares about that cow with its eyes wide open as if pleading to her for help.

Three months later, The Walkers had built a church, a school and a house for themselves not far from Musombi and Nanguti’s farm. They had gathered a congregation and students making Musombi proud.

“Well,” Musombi said to his wife as they got ready for bed. “I think they did pretty well for themselves, don’t you think?”

“Yes they did,” Nanguti said rubbing her belly. She was due any time now and the baby was kicking. “I didn’t think Jane would last, but she is a strong woman.”

“They’re both very strong and determined,” Musombi said helping his wife onto the bed. “They have God’s spirit guiding them.”

“My dear husband,” Nanguti whispered before she fell asleep. “I admire that Jesus. I may have reservations for their angry and vengeful God who burned cities, turned a woman into salt, forced his only two children out of paradise for disobedience, brought about a flood that almost drowned everybody on earth and tortured that poor man Job, but Jesus with his very kind heart, his love for children and everybody else He met regardless of race or religion and his ultimate sacrifice. I hold high regard for that man. And for Him alone, I will consider becoming a Christian.”

“You make me proud my dear wife,” Musombi said smiling. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my little man.”