I thought I would be writing this article from my space. This is because I had decided to move out i.e. leave my parents’ home. Well, it did not happen. This was my second attempt at doing so. The first ended in a conversation with the Old man that I can only describe politely as condescending. Any attempt to try and explain why I am moving out was met with the harshest of stares. Perhaps some elaboration is in order. I am the first born. I believe I have mentioned this before; there is this unwritten rule among the Kalenjins that the first born son is the father’s right hand man. He is the one who runs errands at the father’s whims. Do not mind that the young man has a mind of his own and ambitions to pursue. This is momentarily shelved when carrying out orders from father. Needless to say, that first attempt at securing my niche in this beautiful planet was peremptorily shattered. I did not harbour any hard feelings. I did not have a job and the thought of coming back to my parents asking them too bail me out repulsed me. Furthermore, the Old man had built a two-bedroom house for the boys- complete with a spacious bathroom and kitchen. I am sure he envisaged my wanting to try my wings out there after graduation. He was also in the process of expanding his farming enterprises. After thinking hard and long, he tied me down by building quarters nearby. “Why go out to rent when he has a two-bedroom house all to himself?” he must have mused. I held my horses. At my second attempt, I still did not have a job. However, I had enough money to sustain me for three months comfortably or four if lived in frugality. I figured this period would be enough to seek and find some sustainable employment. There was lots of tension at home. I still wanted to move out but not without the blessings of my parents. I held my horses. It was later on that it dawned on me why all my efforts have been hitting a brick wall. Some time back, I had confided in a friend about my plans for the aforementioned quarters. I wanted to it to be a harbour for the weary traveller, weary at heart and body. I had read of Dr. Francis Schaeffer, the director of L’Abri fellowship in Huemoz, Switzerland. His story moved me. Many nights were spent at his home engaging in discourse on spiritual truths. His guests were from different faiths, endowments, races and nationalities. This seeking of spiritual truth combined with the clean air of mountainous Switzerland, contributed immensely to the sound health-spiritually and physically-of L’Abri visitors. I thought of the ideal location of Eldoret, how convenient it would be to hold those nights of discussion with truth seekers as Dr. Francis held at L’Abri. Now I figure the reason why I wanted to move out was to be at par with my peers. Most of them are out there leaving a mark in their workplaces. I can brood over my situation, play the blame game, and risk developing ulcers over circumstances external to me…or I can pose for a moment, figure out what is it that holds me back, and upon realising that I have an unfulfilled promise to my heavenly Father, go ahead and deliver. I choose the latter; it is what any prudent child of God would do.