1 Corinthians 9:24 (New International Version)
Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but
only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.
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
Dear Lord we pray that we would have the perseverance to
meet the goals before us that You would have for each of us to accomplish. In
Jesus’ name, Amen.
