Living positively and with a purpose

As they tried to escape the violence, they had further scrapes with death. This included avoiding being locked in a church with 50 other people, which was then set alight. However, Julia still lost a son. To this day, she remains distressed that his body was never identified. And, her husband disappeared. It was a situation that pushed Julia to her limits.

But, her love for her children, her faith and the chilling words of a counselor at a self-help group were the inspiration to continue. “They advised me to start life afresh and try and forget what had happened,” she commented. “They told me if I needed to take care of myself and take my medicine because no one would support us and I’ll die.”

Julia had lost everything. Her home along with the others who fled were either taken over or dismantled. Julia was moved to a camp for Internally Displaced People (IDP), 250 kilometers along the Rift Valley. For almost two years, Julia and her family’s home was a simple canvass tent with a mattress on the ground. While they were safe, the extreme climate swings from scorching heat to cruel cold with heavy rains that drenched everything they owned made life almost unbearable.

Today, sitting under the shade of a papaya tree in her garden, Julia often thinks about the past. “There was a lot of wind, no trees, no grass, and no water source nearby,” she said. “The only water that was available came from a salty hot spring. We fetched with jerry cans that became so hot that they would burn our backs.”

Her words come quietly and mask the reality she faced. Desperately running away from her former neighbors who wanted to kill her. Hiding in a church and fleeing just before it was burnt down. Sleeping rough on the ground and then in a tent for two years. Listening to Tavitha Njeri Kibiru quietly describe what she went through following the 2007 post-election violence in Kenya was chilling. In one day, Tavitha’s life went from being a wife and mother of six to that of a hunted person and refugee.

“A neighbor came by our house and asked why we hadn’t left yet,” she said recalling the afternoon her life changed. “We were told we had better leave by dark or my husband would be killed.” She and her family fled to a police station who turned their backs on them saying the “work must continue”. They ran to a church leaving everything behind, stayed for three days and slept on the floor with no food or water. Suffering from stomach ulcers, she was at wits end when a friend offered her some tea. “That act of kindness gave me the strength I needed to go on.”

She did, but the cost was high. Her husband, affected by the cruelty and killing, left. She was alone and had to take care of her four boys and two girls. When she was finally assigned a tent, she was asked if she could help make a list of all the displaced people who needed a home. Selflessly, she went from tent to tent taking names. When she turned in the list, a relief worker looked it over and asked why her name wasn’t there. Her response was simple—others needed help more. Putting others first led her fellow refugees elect her as their leader and a camp coordinator.

Two years later she moved into a house that Habitat helped build and raised her children—the youngest, a son, 26, still lives with her.

As she looked around, she reflected that things have changed. “Life is good now,” she said. “My heart is at peace. I’m able to do chores and farm. I also raise chickens and grow maize, beans and peas. I tell people to have faith in themselves, work hard, and don’t become dependent. I’m able to help.”

Tavitha is one of more than 300,000 people that were displaced by the violence in 2007. Today, she along with more than 300 families live in a little community in Maai Mahiu, near Naivasha in Kenya.