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: 45 Powerful Stories of Perseverance and Triumph from People Just Like You
by Cynthia Kersey
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