The History Of The
Margaret Okari Children's Foundation

In 1993 I was driving through Tabaka, in Kisii, Kenya visiting traditional craftsmen from whom I imported soapstone carvings. A man stood on the road, waving his arms in the traditional way a Kenyan asks to hitchhike. I stopped,and he said, "please wait," and ran off into the bush. I waited a few minutes and he did not come, so I got out of my pickup truck and walked towards where he had disappeared. “I thought you said you needed a ride?” I asked him. "I am waiting for my wife who is helping herself” (helping oneself is translated as going to the ladies room), the man answered. Another 10 minutes passed and the man with his wife did not come back.

Suddenly a lady came from the direction the man had disappeared. Pulling me aside, she whispered, “His wife is having a baby.” Lo and behold, as I followed this woman, I noticed a crowd of women under a tree. Together they formed a human hedge around the soon to be mother. As I got closer, I spotted a new-born infant crying as she was being handed to her mother, now lying comfortably under a large tree. The local midwives were working to make her feel comfortable. I quickly hurried to my pickup truck and drove a couple of miles to the nearest market center where I bought several wrap-rounds (fabric) for mother and baby.

When I returned, I found the mother sitting comfortably attempting to breast-feed her newborn baby. I gave the wraps to the "midwife", who bundled up mother and baby. In the meantime, the husband was standing and watching the ordeal from a distance. Men are not allowed near a setting of this nature.

I ended up spending almost two hours there. To honor my patience and help, Ezra and Karen named their little girl Kwamboka. Mother, father and baby were soon ready for me to drive them home. Their home was about 8 miles away. The couple told me that they had been walking to a marketplace, when suddenly the woman went into labor and sat down under a tree to have her baby.

In 1999 Ezra died and his wife Karen died the following year, leaving behind seven children with an aged grandmother, both from the dreaded HIV/AIDS pandemic. Little Kwamboka, then 6, was orphaned, together with her brother Lawrence, then 8. They were both left in the care of an aged grandmother. In 2000 the grandmother, too frail to care for these children, brought them to me and said, "My child, these are now your children, look after them." I took them without hesitation.

I put Lawrence in a boarding school and left little Kwamboka with her aunt, whom I paid to look after, until she was old enough to go to boarding school.

During this same time my sister Margaret, a poor but fearless and tenacious Prayer Warrior, was also taking care of four children orphaned by AIDS. A graduate of Mississippi College for Women, Margaret ran a successful advertising agency in Kenya before she succumbed to Hepatitis C, another illness that is endemic in Africa. Even in her illness, Margaret managed to care for her orphaned children, literally going from house to house asking for food to feed them. People generously donated whatever food they had. Despite her illness, she was a source of strength for her children and for many other families.

Upon her death in July 2000 at age 47, I took over the responsibility of caring for her four orphans. The foundation is named in Margaret's memory. Most of the parents (who come from soapstone carving families) were personally known to me, as I was instrumental in introducing indigenous Kisii soapstone carving to western art collectors. A great majority of the children are from families I have worked with for many years. God has placed me in a position to do good for Kisii, in its greatest time of need. As others in town have learned of my activities, they continue to bring more orphans to me whose parents have died from AIDS. Unfortunately, the need is greater than the foundation can accommodate. That is why we need your help.