Wycliff (in red shirt) in healthier days. Photo: Dipesh Pabari

And yes, it was just another regular day downtown Kisumu when we first met Wycliff. I will admit that had it not been for the obliged role of a fixer in search of another shot for the camera and another stereotype to fill a few seconds of film time, I would never have met him, at least not by name. He would have been just another street boy. But, that is what we were there to do. We were out to capture additional content to put the documentary in context. This is Kenya and Obama was about to become the President of the US. Of course it made complete sense to find some little street urchin, throw an Obama tshirt on him and ask him what he thought Obama was going to do for his country.

There is no shortage of subjects when you are looking for a vagabond in Kisumu. You will find them as you walk the streets. Carry a camera and there will be at least 20 kids high on glue ready to share a laugh with you or get out of your way for a small fee. As Wycliff limped around all the bigger boys who were trying to get our attention, one of the crew spotted him instantly. Because this documentary had a practical and direct benefit through creating new markets for local products made it a lot easier on my conscience. The crew were clearly not here to edit the flies on the faces for a ten second guilt trip amongst the Dutch viewing audience. There was a purpose for this and that made it worthwhile. So grabbing the sensational street kid shot was not as much of  burden as it should have been.

Wycliff had everything the camera was looking for. He was cute and confident and not bombed out of his head on glue. He had a terrible limp. He came straight up to us and immediately said, ‘I don’t want money or food. I need school books. Please.’ Perfect. I said I had a job for him and if he accepted to tell us on camera what he thought about Obama, then we would take him straight to the bookstore and he could choose all the books he needed.

"Deal?"

"Deal."

“When Obama becomes president he will help all of us street children. He will take us away from here and give us food and good schools...”

“What happened to your leg?” asked one of the film crew.

“The police were chasing me one evening and I was running across the road and I was hit by a tuktuk...”

Ten minutes later we were in a bookstore as Wycliff patiently wandered around and confidently asked the store keeper for a list he knew by heart. We paid for the books, shook hands and drove away. It was a wrap and we had evening sundowners to concentrate on.

The following day, we went to visit my folks and told them about our encounter with little Wycliff.  Dad reacted as soon as I described his limp and his approach.

“I know him,” said my father. "He approached me very politely a while ago and asked us for school books. When I told your Mom about him, she said we should try and get him off the streets but we could not find him after that.”

Could it be true? Could one of these blots in the landscape actually have a character, an identity, be a person?  For my folks, yes but sadly until today, not for me. Years of charity had rekindled my parents sense of being – it comes with a cost though and it has taken its toll on my mother. For me, and I believe for most of us, the most that little boy on the street ever is, is a moment of frustration or pity. Then its over and we get on with shopping at Nakumatt.

That was about two years ago. Life went on for us in the way we know it and like it. For Wycliff, the last two years were the first two years of his life. My folks found him, found out his story, gave him a good wash and he began to live. He had a roof under his head and three meals a day. He went to school and his leg was reset so he could run around and play football like any other 10 year old boy deserves to.

He was given what every child deserves: a right to live and a right to have an identity of his own. Wycliff was always special – he had a look in his eyes of assurity. He knows what he wants and was going to get it. He performs well at school. Despite having spent most of his life on the streets of Kisumu, he shed off the hardships and embraced his innate sense of respect and love that still breathed deeply in him. He soon became everyone’s favorite and grabbed Lia’s heart immediately. Lia has been coming back to Kenya regularly to assist the little charity my folks run. When Lia first met him she insisted on being his financial sponsor. His leg still needed a lot of work as it had got progressively worse since he had not had medical attention immediately following his accident.

Wycliff joined the group of boys that Ladies in Action (http://ladiesinaction.wordpress.com/about) have been looking after for several years. He became one of the extended family members that my folks have adopted along the way thriving in this nurturing environment. I don’t know much about how he has spent his time on a day to day basis as I have had this terrible ability to close out any emotional entanglement with the gutters of our society.

In fact, I will be honest enough to confess that despite his new life starting through a coincidental meeting with myself and five others, I rarely asked about his well being. I knew he was in good hands and that was enough for me. Like most of society, I am hard skinned and wired to have a short enough memory that will allow myself to enjoy a cappuccino without an inch of remorse while looking at the fleabags sliding their dirty bums and glue plastered lips across the 4wd drive cars parked across from me. Life goes on...

Until Su called a week ago: “Wycliff is very ill and we have had to admit him in hospital...” Like Lia and my folks, Su is one of those exceptional people who has chosen to devote most of her life to working with the poor in Kisumu. These people are genuine philanthropists who do what they do, not for money, but because they just do. A few days later, I received an email from Su, copied to my folks who are on holiday in Turkey:

"Dear Friends,

Sorry to give you such a poor start to the day, but things were bad. My hope this morning was you may get back in time to see Wycliff.  However to quote"what a difference a day brings"He has had one unit of blood, which he should have been given five days ago. He immediately has perked up and the new blood cells are kicking in against the infection, his temperature is down and Grandma Salome with Frederick have been brought by Father Martin's diver Lucas and they chatted all afternoon.

Father Martin was concerned the family may have wanted him at home, but as he had perked up dramatically, he did not appear like a dying child and in the end this was not an issue.However he is a sick lad, Dr Shiroya is his, taking over from Dr Amolo who we could never pin down. The prognosis is not good, but with regular transfusions and steroids he may carry on for some time. The ultimate cure would be a bone marrow transplant. Not available here I understand.

The diagnosis is leucopenia hypoplasia He also has gardia which has caused the diarrhoea. He will be given two more units of blood and all being well will return to Our Lady of Grace when that is completed. Talking to Daktari Tina, our compound paediatrician, l she tells me that cases she has known have the transfusions and do well for a while then they become more frequent to maintain the blood picture. His haemoglobin must be up today as he is a changed boy.

so Nejla and Chotu continue to enjoy yourselves and know we are doing our very best here on all fronts

Love Sue"

Does the story end there? It were if it were just a story but I would like to think this flow of disjointed ramble as having a bit more of a purpose, much like the documentary that brought Wycliff to my parents lives.

He needs help. Wycliff needs a bone marrow transplant and Kenya does not do bone marrow transplants yet. He is surviving on blood transfusions, but we don’t know how long for. We are willing to do what we can financially do get him out of the country and give him a chance at life but we can’t do it on our own. So yes, I am writing for help. Can you help Wycliff?