I went up the steps concocting a story. It all came to naught as I stood with him on level ground and panic once again took over. He was
It wasn't a pleasant evening as some homophobe villagers came to voice their discontentment in the manner of my interference in their 'cleansing' ritual and all that bullock. The next day things seemed to be getting out of hand as villagers began taking sides and the elders asked us to leave politely before emotions ran high resulting in oversensualisation of the matter, much to the chagrin of my parents who nonetheless left with us the next day. The long drive home was silent except for the occasional expression of displeasure at the manner in which we left.
All along though my thought seemed focused on the fate of the young man. When we arrived back home the first thing I did was to call the pastor who I had met to en quire as to the fate of Charles. I was impressed and relieved to hear that he had made it into Nairobi the same evening we had left him at the church and that he was being housed for the time being in a safe-house. The alternative outcome was too horrid to consider as I went to bed later that night. I felt better knowing that some people somewhere were making a contribution to the cause no matter how small, they were still contributing. To them, my hat goes off in their honor. You are the unsung heroes in this struggle.