“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
"I'm scared," I said, as we walked into our new home. The house had no lights, no furniture, no running water, nothing. My elder brother Eric, who had remained in Kenya when my parents pursued their education in the U.S., stood there waiting to welcome me. He was the reason my parents decided to come back to Kenya, and I hated him for it. I held tightly onto my father's arm, hoping that I would wake up from this nightmare. But this was my new reality – one moment I was living in Riverside, California, and the next I was living in Kangemi, one of Nairobi's largest slums.
Even though I hated Eric for ruining "MY family's perfect life," in him, I found something I never knew I needed – a brotherhood that helped me get to where I am today. Many people don't have someone to help guide them through life like I did. I am reminded of this whenever I see the squalor that most people in Kenya face every day. I want to be there for them like Eric was for me. I want to help the single mother who works twenty hours a day to provide her family with basic needs, such as food and water. I want to help her children who are forced to beg for money on the streets. I want to build organizations that provide such families with a means to get out of the vicious cycle of poverty – because it matters.
— Kevin Omwega