By Sr Sarah Julu, Medical Mission Sisters (MMS)
Esther Sein is 33 years old. She is Maasai from Loitokitok, a small town with red soil, goats,
and acacia trees. Esther grew up fetching water, herding goats, and sitting with other
women under the tree to bead and talk. She did not finish primary school. She dropped out
in class 6. The reason was her eyes.
Whenever she sat in class, her eyes would become very teary and painful. She could not see
the chalkboard. Her parents took her to the clinic. They tried medicine and herbs. Nothing
helped. But when she stayed at home, her eyes were fine. So she stopped going to school.
She told her parents, “When I am not in class, I am okay. I will learn from life.”
When Esther was 24, life became hard. There was no rain for two seasons. There was little
food, and she had a daughter to take care of. Her daughter’s name is Natasha. She is eight
years old. She is bright and always full of questions.
A woman came to the village and said, “There is good work in Nairobi. You will work in a
clean house. The pay is good. You will send money home every month. Your daughter will
go to a better school.”
Esther looked at Natasha’s old shoes and empty food tin and said yes. She packed one small
bag and left for town. She thought she was doing the best thing for her child.
The house was big, inside a gate. The woman of the house was called Madam. Madam
showed Esther the kitchen and the small room where she would sleep. There was no paper
work, no contract. Just words.
At first Esther thought it would be okay. But slowly things became hard. First was food. The
family ate together in the dining room. Esther cooked everything. When they finished,
Madam pointed to the kitchen. “Now you eat. Fast.” Esther sat alone on a small stool and
ate cold leftovers. If she took more than ten minutes, Madam would come and say, “There
is work. Why are you still eating?”
Second was time. They had agreed she would start at 6:00 AM. But in that house she had to
wake at 4:00 AM. Every day. By 4:15 AM she was sweeping, mopping, washing dishes from
the night before, and making tea. When the children woke up at 7: AM the house already
looked clean.
Third was talking. Madam said, “Don’t talk to Bwana.” That was the man of the house.
“Don’t make friends with neighbors. Don’t chat at the gate.” Other house girls would wave
in the morning. Esther learned to look down.
She was not allowed to watch TV. Her phone had to stay in her room. For eight months
Esther stayed.
She told herself, “This is sacrifice. This is what mothers do.”
She sent home whatever little money she got. On Sundays she called Natasha.
“Mama, when are you coming home?” Natasha would ask from Loitokitok.
“Soon, my daughter,” Esther would answer, and feel pain in her heart.
One-night Esther lay on her thin mattress and thought for a long time. Is this the life I want
Natasha to see? Eating alone, waking in the dark, not allowed to talk or have friends? At
5:00 AM she packed her bag.
“Madam, I am done. I am going home.”
Madam asked her to stay. “Who will do the work?”
Esther picked up her bag. She left with 2,400 shillings. Bus fare and a little hope. She went
home to her old parents.
Back in Loitokitok life was not easy. Her father was suffering from high blood pressure. Her
mother had diabetes. Both needed medicine, special food, and someone to check on them.
People asked, “How was life in town?”
She just smiled and said, “It taught me a lesson.”
At night she held Natasha and made a promise to herself. I will never be anyone’s house girl
again. I must find another way to live.
That is when real change began. She heard that the Kimana market was busy. Many people
pass there. Lorries, tourists, schools. People need food every day. Esther decided to move to
Kimana with Natasha. She borrowed 5,000 shillings from a neighbor. Bought maize, beans,
and rice and rented a small space in Kimana market. She put the cereals in basins and
covered them with clear paper. She wrote prices on cardboard.
It was not easy. Some days dust was everywhere. Some days she sold only 800 shillings. But
it was her business. She woke at 6:00 AM, not 4:00 AM. She opened her own shop. She
walked Natasha to school.
Esther also cleaned the public market toilet near her stall. No one wanted to do it. She
offered. Every morning and evening she swept, mopped, and poured water. For that work
she got 400 shillings per day.
People asked her, “Esther, why clean toilets when you have a shop?”
She answered, “Because 400 shillings buys medicine for my parents. Because 400 shillings
buys books for Natasha. No work that feeds my family is small.”
Little by little, her cereal business grew. Women liked that she was honest with her
measurements. Hotel workers liked that she came early. Drivers liked that she packed fast.
After two years she was selling maize, beans, rice, greengrams, and ndengu. After three
years she got a bigger table and her own weighing scale.
She also started sending some money home every month for her parents’ medicine. It was
not much, but it helped. The biggest change was time.
Today Natasha is in grade three. Esther takes her to school in the morning. She helps with
homework in the evening. On Saturdays Natasha sits on a stool at the stall and helps pack
beans into small cups for customers. They eat together. They pray together. Esther is
present for all the things she missed before.
Today, when girls in Loikitokik or Kimana say they want to go to town to be house girls,
Esther calls them to sit near her basins of cereals. She tells them her story.
The girls listen. Some still go to town. But many are now asking questions first. Many are
staying to try other work. Because Esther showed them there is another way.
She says, “Change did not come because someone rescued me. Change came the day I
chose myself.”