There’s a man in Olkiloriti called Leonard. We call him Lenadi. Or Lemsanga. The Kikuyu mamas call him Renadi. If you meet him, you’ll remember his smile. He’s the guy who laughs even when life is hard. Always kind. Always giving. Always ready to help someone else even when he has nothing.
He shaped my childhood. We’d go hunting together with his many dogs. He had so many dogs we joked that Disney should make a film called Dogman. That’s how free we were. That’s how much joy he carried.
In 2006, we started a football team. Just village boys with big dreams. We named it Santos FC. Lenadi was the best player on the pitch. Fast, clever, fearless. But life took its turns.
Lenadi got into alcohol. Tried to quit many times. Too many times. But he always fell back mostly because the people around him pulled him back in. His brothers, his friends. No one ever walked with him. No one held his hand. He had no mentor. No support.
That’s one of the reasons I quit my job in Nairobi and moved back to the village. To be there for people like Lenadi.
Today, Lenadi is trying again. He’s clean. He started a small shop near his home. When I asked him what he needed, he didn’t ask for money. He asked for a scale, some rice, sugar, and flour. Simple things. He said people leave his shop because he doesn’t have the basics.
We were building back home. I stopped everything. Took the timber and iron sheets and loaded them on a donkey. We delivered them to his shop.
Lenadi is one of the most hardworking people I know. He’s self-driven. He wakes up early and pushes through even when everything around him says quit. All he ever needed was someone to believe in him. Just one person.
We got him the weighing scale and a few dry cereals to get started and today, he is doing much better. Life has taught us to encourage those that do something positive with their lives and aid them a little further.
