In the eighteen months since the dedication service for the Ndalani property, the crew of seventeen boys and their teachers had worked hard clearing and preparing the land and erecting the first buildings. Charles was proud of their effort, especially since on many days the temperature had reached over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. The boys had never experienced such hot weather, since Eldoret had a mild climate. On some days, inside, under the corrugated tin roofs of the buildings the boys were erecting, the temperature soared even higher. But the boys and their supervisors stuck to the job, and now the other children had arrived to enjoy the fruit of their labor.
Life at the new home in Ndalani came with some hardships. There was no electricity on the property, and all the water had to be carried from the Thika River. Nonetheless, the future looked bright for Mully Children’s Family, or so Charles thought, but more challenges emerged.
Soon after the move to Ndalani, Charles was surprised to receive a summons to appear before the chief of the Kamba subtribe—the same man he had once asked to put his father to death for his misdeeds. Charles met with the chief in a tiny, dark room in the town center. The chief got straight to the point. “I am very disappointed in you, Charles Mulli,” he said.
“How so?” Charles asked.
“You have brought criminals to our land, and not just any criminals, but criminals from other tribes. I have seen Maasai and Luo and Luhya boys and girls in town. We cannot have this. We know where they have come from, and we know what they are capable of. They are gang members and thieves and petty criminals. What were you thinking, bringing them here?”
“They have to go somewhere,” Charles replied.
“Well, not here. You are a wealthy man, a man of honor in our community. When we heard you were returning to Ndalani, we expected you to bring your wealth with you—to help this community, not to add to our problems,” the chief retorted.
“The children might have once been the things you say, but they are not like that anymore. They are changed,” Charles said.
The chief scoffed. “You can’t know that. None of us can know that. The people are very angry. They do not want other tribes on their land. They are going to run you off. I have called you to warn you. You should leave now.”
“We’re not going anywhere. The children need somewhere to live, and they will behave themselves,” Charles said.
“Can you guarantee that?” the chief asked.
“Yes,” Charles replied. “You can hold me personally responsible for any problems the children cause in town.”
“Very well,” the chief said. “I will tell the people and see what they say.”
“Thank you. You will see. These children will be a blessing to us all.”
“I’m not sure how that could possibly be,” the chief said as he stood to leave.
As it turned out, the local people did make things difficult for the children but, thankfully, did not run them out of town.
In Eldoret the children had all attended the school Charles set up. Now, at Ndalani, Charles wanted to take the school to the next level. In Kenya, unless a school was registered by the government, enrolled students could not take the state examinations. The first of these national exams was held at the end of eighth grade, and if a student failed, he or she could not go to high school. Another examination was held at the end of high school, at which time a student had to make good grades in order to attend any college, university, or technical institute. Charles assumed it would be an easy matter to get his Ndalani school registered by the state so that the children about to enter eighth grade could take their exams at the end of the year. He soon found out otherwise.
The Machakos School District had 940 state-registered schools, all of which were attended by Kamba children. When Charles went to register his school, he was told by the school district officials that it was not possible. The officials told him that street children were impossible to educate and that if they registered his school and the children took the state exams, their results would bring down the average of the whole school district.
Charles knew that this was nonsense. His students were some of the smartest he had ever seen. They just needed a chance. He argued with the school district authorities, but they refused to budge from their position. “The Machakos School District allows for the education only of Kamba students,” they said forthrightly.
The officials’ unbending attitude shocked Charles. Surely street children had the right to be educated. Charles would not take no for an answer. A big part of the children’s rehabilitation was the hope of a good education. Charles wrote to the minister of education in Nairobi asking for his school to be registered. He waited and prayed for a response. One week went by, then another, until only a week was left before the cutoff day when schools had to be registered by the state for the year. Charles waited anxiously. He was relieved when a letter arrived informing him that he could meet with the minister of education. But the meeting was scheduled for just three days before the registration cutoff date.
The entire Mully Children’s Family prayed that things would work out. Charles was heartened by the fact that the minister of education was not from the Kamba tribe. Perhaps he would be able to look at the situation more objectively.
On the day of the interview, Charles drove to the minister of education’s office in Nairobi. He was shown into the office, and Kalonzo Musyoka smiled at him as they shook hands. It was a good start. Charles smiled back. “What is the problem you are having?” the minister asked.
“I’m not able to register my school with the Machakos School District. I have nearly 240 children that I am educating there. They have already learned many things, and I want them to be able to go on with their studies. Some of them are very bright. Twenty-one students are in their final year of primary education and will soon be candidates for testing to get into high school.”
The minister of education frowned. “Why won’t they register your school?” he asked.
Charles hesitated. He didn’t want to cause problems for the officials of the Machakos district, since that would make it harder to work with them in the future. “I’m not sure. You will have to ask them,” he replied.
The minister picked up the telephone and asked his secretary to connect him to the education director at Machakos.
Although Charles could hear only one side of the conversation, it wasn’t hard to tell that the minister of education was angry that the school district would not allow Charles’s school to be registered. His voice rose to a yell as he reprimanded the school district officials for being so biased and ordered them to register the school for the coming year. It was all Charles could have hoped for. Now his students had to prove to the school district officials that they would not pull down the exam averages for the other schools.
With his school at Ndalani now running and registered with the state, Charles decided to move the remainder of the primary school–age children from Eldoret to Ndalani. This would leave seventy newborn to seven-year-old children, along with a number of workers, living at the property in Eldoret.
Charles also began strategizing about how to educate the students in his school past eighth grade. There was no high school to send them to in Ndalani. What they really needed was a high school to call their own. Of course, establishing a high school was a daunting undertaking. They would need professional teachers with degrees in many subjects, more buildings, equipment for the science labs, textbooks, and so much more. Still, as Charles prayed about the possibility, he became convinced that God would make a way for a Mully Children’s Family (MCF) high school right on the grounds at Ndalani.
Charles called together two of his top primary school teachers, both of whom were qualified to teach at high school level, and asked them to start researching the idea. Soon three other teachers joined them. The plan they came up with was exactly in line with Charles’s thinking. The boys would pitch in, using their carpentry, welding, and metalworking skills to help build the high school. One of the teachers taught technical drawing, and soon plans were drawn up for simple concrete-block buildings with plenty of ventilation to keep the students cool inside on the hot summer days. Following the plans, the boys began making windows, doors, and gates for the new buildings. Others calculated how much concrete, mortar, blocks, and stone would be needed, along with roofing material and wood. The only thing they lacked was the money to buy the necessary supplies.
Charles gathered the three hundred children now living at Ndalani, along with the thirty teachers who taught in the primary school. “I am here to tell you that God is going to provide us with a high school next year, in 1997,” he said cheerfully. “Does anyone see a high school here?” He waved his arm at the vacant space to his left.
The children shook their heads.
“I can’t hear you,” Charles yelled, “so I’m going to ask you again. Does anyone see a high school here?”
“No!” the children yelled back.
“I don’t either, not yet. But there will be one soon. God is going to give us our own high school. The biggest children have worked very hard to get to grade eight. Next they are going to go to our high school. God has already given you a mom and a dad, food, clothes, and a bed. Next he is going to provide a high school!”
The children cheered.
“Let’s sing and thank God for what He is going to do for us,” Charles said. They all sang several choruses, and then Charles dismissed them.
Within days, news that MCF was planning to establish a high school spread overseas. Donations began to arrive toward the project from people in various countries. With each new infusion of money, the high school project moved ahead little by little.
In January 1997, the results of the eighth graders’ standardized national exams were ready. Charles and Jacob Otieno, Charles’s right-hand man at Ndalani, stood staring at the sealed envelope. Had the street children pulled down the district average as everyone had feared they would? Charles took a deep breath and tore the envelope open. He felt goose bumps rising on his arms as he looked over the results and then handed the paper to Jacob.
Jacob read the results and stared at Charles. “God has done great things,” he said, almost in a whisper. “This is incredible.”
And it was. The Mully Children’s Family school had ranked first out of the 940 schools in the Machakos School District, far outpacing any of the local schools.
“Can you believe it?” Jacob asked. “Our children are the best in the district, and they must be among the top in all of Kenya!”
Charles laughed. “They’ve worked hard. We’ve all worked hard. We gave them the opportunity, and they took it. I am so proud.”
That evening the entire family at Ndalani gathered outside after dinner to learn the results and hear Charles congratulate the eighth graders, who had done so well. By now Charles had learned that their school had scored among the top one hundred schools in the country. They all danced in jubilation until the dust under their feet rose in a red cloud around them.
In the weeks that followed, many of the local people around Ndalani came to Charles to ask if their children could be enrolled in his school. How different this was from a little over a year ago when the locals had threatened to run him and the children out of town. Charles could not take all of their children. He was in the business of educating the neediest. However, he agreed to enroll sixty local children in the school who were orphans being taken care of by extended family. The school charged no fees, and the children went home each night. The situation gave Charles immense satisfaction. He knew how much it would have meant to him had he been offered free schooling and encouragement as a child.
By the start of the new school year in late January 1997, the high school was fully operating. As the year progressed, not only did the children in the elementary and high school continue to excel in their education, but they also worked hard in sports and music and gained recognition in those fields. Various MCF choirs competed in competitions, as did the karate teams. And MCF began winning trophies both in the local area and at divisional school competitions. MCF students also won the Yatta District science fair by developing a new type of animal feed made from soybeans that they had grown on the Ndalani property. They went on to compete in the national science fair finals. With each new accomplishment, the children celebrated by singing and dancing and giving thanks to God for their victories.
Chapter 12
“What You Have Done Is Quite Remarkable”
As 1997 progressed, Charles faced a daunting problem at Ndalani—clean water. All the water they used came from the Thika River that ran through the property. New children arriving often had difficulty adjusting to the water. Some would get sick from various waterborne bugs. But in October the water quality became a serious issue when two boys became ill and were diagnosed with typhoid. The river water was tested and found to be the culprit.
