Mission on the March
He possessed a five-day supply of food, a Bible and
Pilgrim's Progress (his two treasures), a small ax for
protection, and a blanket. With these, Legson Kayira eagerly
set out on the journey of his life. He was going to walk
from his tribal village in Nyasaland, north across the
wilderness of East Africa to Cairo, where he would board a
ship to America to get a college education.
It was October 1958. Legson was sixteen or seventeen, his
mother wasn't sure. His parents were illiterate and didn't
know exactly where America was or how far. But they
reluctantly gave their blessing to his journey. To Legson,
it was a journey derived from a dream - no matter how ill-
conceived - that fueled his determination to get an
education. He wanted to be like his hero, Abraham Lincoln,
who had risen from poverty to become an American president,
then fought tirelessly to help free the slaves. He wanted to
be like Booker T. Washington, who had cast off the shackles
of slavery to become a great American reformer and educator,
giving hope and dignity to himself and to his race.
Like these great role models, Legson wanted to serve
mankind, to make a difference in the world. To realize his
goal, he needed a first-rate education. He knew the best
place to get it was in America.
Forget that Legson didn't have a penny to his name or a way
to pay for his ship fare.
Forget that he had no idea what college he would attend or
if he would even be accepted.
Forget that Cairo was 3,000 miles away and in between were
hundreds of tribes that spoke more than fifty strange
languages, none of which Legson knew.
Forget all that. Legson did. He had to. He put everything
out of his mind except the dream of getting to the land
where he could shape his own destiny.
He hadn't always been so determined. As a young boy, he
sometimes used his poverty as an excuse for not doing his
best at school or for not accomplishing something. I am just
a poor child, he had told himself. What can I do?
Like many of his friends in the village, it was easy for
Legson to believe that studying was a waste of time for a
poor boy from the town of Karongo in Nyasaland. Then, in
books provided by missionaries, he discovered Abraham
Lincoln and Booker T. Washington. Their stories inspired him
to envision more for his life, and he realized that an
education was the first step. So he conceived the idea for
his walk.
After five full days of trekking across the rugged African
terrain, Legson had covered only 25 miles. He was already
out of food, his water was running out, and he had no money.
To travel the distance of 2,975 additional miles seemed
impossible. Yet to turn back was to give up, to resign
himself to a life of poverty and ignorance. I will not stop
until I reach America, he promised himself. Or until I die
trying.
Sometimes he walked with strangers. Most of the time he
walked alone. He entered each new village cautiously, not
knowing whether the natives were hostile or friendly.
Sometimes he found work and shelter. Many nights he slept
under the stars. He foraged for wild fruits and berries and
other edible plants. He became thin and weak. A fever struck
him and he fell gravely ill. Kind strangers treated him with
herbal medicines and offered him a place to rest and
convalesce. Weary and demoralized, Legson considered turning
back. Perhaps it was better to go home, he reasoned, than to
continue this seemingly foolish journey and risk his life.
Instead, Legson turned to his two books, reading the
familiar words that renewed his faith in himself and in his
goal. He continued on. On January 19, 1960, fifteen months
after he began his perilous journey, he had crossed nearly a
thousand miles to Kampala, the capital of Uganda. He was now
growing stronger in body and wiser in the ways of survival.
He remained in Kampala for six months, working at odd jobs
and spending every spare moment in the library, reading
voraciously.
In that library he came across an illustrated directory of
American colleges. One illustration in particular caught his
eye. It was of a stately, yet friendly looking institution,
set beneath a pure blue sky, graced with fountains and
lawns, and surrounded by majestic mountains that reminded
him of the magnificent peaks back home in Nyasaland.
Skagit Valley College in Mount Vernon, Washington, became
the first concrete image in Legson's seemingly impossible
quest. He wrote immediately to the school's dean explaining
his situation and asking for a scholarship. Fearing he might
not be accepted at Skagit, Legson decided to write to as
many colleges as his meager budget would allow.
It wasn't necessary. The dean at Skagit was so impressed
with Legson's determination he not only granted him
admission but also offered him a scholarship and a job that
would pay his room and board.
Another piece of Legson's dream had fallen into place - yet
still more obstacles blocked his path. Legson needed a
passport and a visa, but to get a passport, he had to
provide the government with a verified birth date. Worse
yet, to get a visa he needed the round-trip fare to the
United States. Again, he picked up pen and paper and wrote
to the missionaries who had taught him since childhood. They
helped to push the passport through government channels.
However, Legson still lacked the airfare required for a
visa.
Undeterred, Legson continued his journey to Cairo believing
he would somehow get the money he needed. He was so
confident he spent the last of his savings on a pair of
shoes so he wouldn't have to walk through the door of Skagit
Valley College barefoot.
Months passed, and word of his courageous journey began to
spread. By the time he reached Khartoum, penniless and
exhausted, the legend of Legson Kayira had spanned the ocean
between the African continent and Mount Vernon, Washington.
The students of Skagit Valley College, with the help of
local citizens, sent $650 to cover Legson's fare to America.
When he learned of their generosity, Legson fell to his
knees in exhaustion, joy, and gratitude. In December 1960,
more than two years after his journey began, Legson Kayira
arrived at Skagit Valley College. Carrying his two treasured
books, he proudly passed through the towering entrance of
the institution.
But Legson Kayira didn't stop once he graduated. Continuing
his academic journey, he became a professor of political
science at Cambridge University in England and a widely
respected author.
Like his heroes, Abraham Lincoln and Booker T. Washington,
Legson Kayira rose above his humble beginnings and forged
his own destiny. He made a difference in the world and
became a magnificent beacon whose light remains as a guide
for others to follow.
"I learned I was not, as most Africans believed, the victim
of my circumstances but the master of them." --Legson Kayira
Excerpted from "Unstoppable" Copyright 1998 by Cynthia
Kersey
Cynthia Kersey
cynthia@unstoppable.net
Cynthia Kersey is a nationally-known speaker, columnist and
author of the bestseller, "Unstoppable." Visit her website
at:
http://www.unstoppable.net