This archive report was first published on 6 August 2019.
Forgiveness sets you free ¶
By Stella Cherono
As I reflect on my painful experience during the 2007-2008 post-election violence in Kenya's tea plantations, I am reminded of the importance of forgiveness. My story, which I share with you today, is a testament to the power of forgiveness in healing and moving forward.
It was a fateful evening in 2007 when the presidential polls were announced, marking the beginning of my nightmare. Tension was high in our area, and rumors of attacks on certain communities spread like wildfire. My neighbor, a Kisii, received a chilling letter warning him of impending danger. I reassured him, thinking that as a Kalenjin, I would be safe. But my confidence was short-lived after a neighbor's wife was raped.
As the violence escalated, we were forced to eat boiled rice and black tea due to a lack of food. The situation became more dire when one of the area MP's associates was murdered by an AP officer. All hell broke loose as Kalenjins hunted Kisiis, beating them up in their own homes. To defend themselves, the Kisiis converged in two adjacent houses at night to plan a counter-attack.
That night, they came, hungry for revenge. We peeped through the window and saw over 40 unfamiliar men swinging machetes as they broke into the house. They beat the men inside, came out, and one of them poured petrol around the house. The one with the petrol can struck a match, which sent the house ablaze with the victims inside. A few people managed to escape, but they were met with another group of machete-wielding attackers who hacked them.
Suddenly, we heard gunshots, and the attackers from the other houses scattered and escaped. AP officers fetched water from the taps outside and quelled the fire. A few women and children were miraculously rescued. The next day, we were escorted to Kericho Police Station and transported by bus to our respective rural homes.
When we returned to the tea estate in May 2008, we found that our property had been looted. Our clothes were being worn by our neighbors, and our duvets were being aired by them. It was painful, but we chose to keep quiet for the sake of peace. We eventually moved to another estate.
Years later, in 2013, I met my neighbor while on a bus to Kampala. He appeared to be unwell and told me about his life since we last saw each other. He had developed a complication in his kidneys that incurred a bill of Ksh800,000 at the Kenyatta National Hospital. He was forced to sell all his property, and his wife left him. I empathized with him and reassured him that things would get better.
Before parting, I gave him my card so that we could stay in touch. The other day, he gave me a call and informed me that he was recuperating after receiving treatment in Rwanda. He also invited me to a Harambee, although I was unable to attend, I sent my contribution. He has apologized profusely and offered to give me money, but I prefer to show him compassion by checking up on him.
When you forgive, bitterness is replaced with a sense of peace. You get to move forward. As per the Bible, I have seventy times seven minus one other times to forgive this particular neighbor.
