Othaya, Kenya — When Gerald King’ori walked across the graduation stage 29th, September 2023, his heart was heavy. He wore his university gown with pride. But one person was missing.
“My grandmother had waited her whole life for that day,” he said quietly. “She died five days before it happened.”
King’ori, now in his twenties, grew up in Kiruga village in Karima Ward, Othaya. He lost his mother, Grace Wangari King’ori, when he was a young boy. “After Mum died, it was chaos,” he recalled. “We had nothing. Even our clothes were burned. Neighbors had to lend us some just to get by.”
His sister, still a child herself, struggled to replace her own birth certificate. As word spread, some relatives offered support. Others suggested giving the children up to a local home. “That felt like an insult,” he said. “We became the laughing stock of the village.”
But one woman stood by him — Loise Mukami King’ori, his grandmother, who was already 70 at the time.
“She washed nappies by hand. There were no diapers,” he said. “She knocked on every door — chiefs, churches, even the local MP. She did everything to keep us going.”
According to neighbors, Loise was often seen carrying jerrycans of water or firewood well into her seventies. “She was always on her feet,” said a local elder. “Never asked for pity. Just wanted those kids to succeed.”
King’ori made a silent promise to her. He would succeed, no matter what.
“I never made her come to school for anything,” he said. “No academic clinic, no discipline issues. I handled everything.”
From Class 6, he took up leadership roles — first as a class monitor, then head boy in secondary school. When his peers had parents attend school meetings, King’ori made quiet arrangements. “I’d ask my friends’ parents to act as my aunt or uncle — just for thirty minutes,” he said with a smile.
His academic journey was supported by the Wings to Fly programme, funded by Equity Bank. It helped cover his high school education at Endarasha High School and later, university studies in criminology. He rose through ranks again, serving as class representative and later as president of the Equity Bank Murang’a chapter.
But the reward he had worked so long to give his grandmother — the proud sight of him in a graduation cap — came too late.
“She passed on 24th September,” he said. “We graduated on the 29th. Just five days.”
It is a wound he still carries.
“I thank God I’m better today,” he said. “But I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t hurt.”
Asked why he chose to share his story now, King’ori said it was a reminder to be kind.
“Not every smile you see online is real,” he said. “Some are hiding pain. Be the reason someone smiles — not their pain.”
His final words were not for the public, but for his grandmother.
“She was, and still is, my pillar,” he said. “To my grandma — my Chibabe — Koma kwega kuuraga mundu wakwa.”
(Rest well, my beloved.)
