African Woman and Child Feature Service

Giving birth to her first child was the most memorable moment in Tabitha Akinyi’s life.

Despite her difficult pregnancy, the moment she held baby Musingo in her arms, she new she wanted to have a second child, maybe even more.

Even though Akinyi’s dream of having another child is only two weeks away, the 24 year old says this is a pregnancy she wishes she had postponed.

Had she known just how much her life would transform following the December 2007 elections, Akinyi says she would have opted to have her baby under different circumstances.

Akinyi has lost her home and business during the post-election violence. She is now a mother without a place to call home. Well-known in her community as a hardworking woman, she has now become dependent on charity and the kindness of friends and family. 

“When you are used to working hard to earn a living, it’s terrible to bank your next meal on good Samaritans,” Akinyi says. 

“You wake in the morning, and you feel like your life is in someone else’s hands, you have no control over what happens to you. It’s depressing and truly painful.” 

Her protruding belly is clearly visible through the maternity dress she is wearing, a dress she was given by a well wisher. The misery on her face is visible as well. 

Life for this young woman has been full of ups and downs, having lost her parents at a very tender age. With no siblings to care for her, she says the world became a wilderness. 

Before the 2007 elections, Akinyi’s life revolved around managing her business and making a good home for her son and her expected child. 

“I had a wholesale shop at Murogi. It’s along the Nakuru-Nairobi highway and despite the challenges that business people face, the returns were encouraging.’’ Akinyi’s face brightens when she reminisce about her business. 

When her business went up in flames, Akinyi estimates the loss to be about a million shillings. 

“I was selling food stuff and my intention was to keep expanding so that I could secure my future and that of my children.” 

She says her husband left the country before the general elections, in search of greener pasture abroad, leaving her as the head of the household. 

But between the 28th of December, last year, and 26th of January, the political instability wreaked the kind of havoc she could never have imagined. As she tells the story of her recent past, Akinyi whispers, almost as if talking to herself. 

“There was a lot of tension alright and a bit of bloodshed in the beginning but, even in my wildest imagination, I couldn’t have foreseen what was coming.” 

Akinyi’s young son runs to his mother’s arms from where he had been sleeping. The two are staying in a tent at the Afraha Stadium. 

Akinyi pauses at the son’s reaction to the conversation and says quietly, “You can see he is troubled, it has been hard for him. Any reference to what happened causes him so much distress,” 

“He hates it when people raise their voice. When we talk to strangers, he lies quietly as if he’s asleep but the moment voices go high, he comes running to my arms.” 

After a moment, Akinyi continues with the conversation. 

“The havoc was draining and distressing for everyone, but to be expecting a child at this time has confounded the situation for me.” 

The actual act of fleeing from her home in Free Area to the Afraha Stadium, when a group of youths attacked their houses and burnt their properties threatening to torch them too, was an uphill task for Akinyi, she was so confused that she almost forgot her son. 

“My son was saved by a neighbor, the worry had made me almost incapacitated. I didn’t want to run, yet I didn’t want to die, I had to live for my children.” 

The three days she slept on the hard floor in the tent she still lives in at Afraha Stadium, for lack of beddings, wrecked havoc to her health.

Having not salvaged anything from her house, she had no choice but to brave the cold and the hard floor “My whole body was aching, I was feeling too sick I thought I was going to lose my baby,” 

“The cold nights made it worse. I have been suffering from tonsillitis for about a month now.” 

Despite the stormy experience, Akinyi has not forgotten the importance of seeking proper care, especially in light of the difficult time she had with the first pregnancy. 

“My son was delivered though caesarian, this is therefore a delicate delivery. If it turns out I can’t deliver through the natural way, I don’t know what will happen.” 

Despite these hardships, Akinyi’s spirit to survive the odds is still very much alive and can be felt when she begins to talk about her dreams. 

“I know no one can restore what I lost, but I believe in new beginnings, for myself, and most importantly my son and the coming baby,” Akinyi says with a faint smile on her face. 

A smile that immediately changes the mood of her son who has been sitting quietly on the floor. 

“I’m hoping that after the baby is born, I can do casual jobs here and there and put aside enough to begin a small business,” she expounds. 

Although Akinyi says that she would like to move away from Nakuru and start again in Kisumu, she says that it is not out of bitterness but a need for change. 

For Akinyi, this change holds the prospect of a better and bigger future. 

 “I want to be close to my in-laws, this traumatic experience has taught me that when all is said and done, we ought to be grateful for being alive. It is a second chance for me,” Akinyi emphasizes. 

Meanwhile, Akinyi has to contend with the unfortunate fate of living at the camp. 

 Life at the camp for an expectant mother is far from comfortable, what with the constant queuing for hours in the sun? 

“You have to wait for your name to be called, and then to receive the day’s portion of food. Sometimes I feel as if I will just faint and die,” 

“It gets to the point where I feel like all the blood is drained from my body and that it will be only a matter of seconds before something terrible happens to me and my baby.” 

Most nights, Akinyi lies awake in her tent, afraid to sleep and wake up with labor pains. It is a nightmare that has become more and more intense as the delivering period nears “I worry that water will break when I am alone with my son, and I won’t know what to do.” 

Although some of the displaced people at the camp were offered transport and traveled to their ancestral home, Akinyi says that it would have been too risky for her. 

 In her condition, Akinyi says it would have been too risky to embark on a journey that might mean the difference between giving birth to a healthy baby and losing the baby altogether.

As the evening lights come alive at the camp, Akinyi begins preparing herself for another rough night ahead in a cold tent. But going by what she said, not even that can dampen her spirits.