Sample this: You are a young white girl, barely 18, from a rich background and in college in your native America. You meet fellow college mate from Africa and you are completely taken in by his physique and charisma.

You get hooked to him and two years later, you are man and wife. Soon after, you give birth to a son.

A year after the son’s birth, your husband is shot dead by gangsters. As his traditions demand, the body is flown to his country of origin thousands of miles away for burial.

Would you keep ties with his relatives, and even host some back in your country? 35 years later, would you consider building a traditional house for your son in his late father’s land when he is already a modern man with his own family and working in an international organisation?

Or even buy a piece of land in his father’s village and develop it to the tune of millions of shillings?

Not through yet. For the love of his people and culture, you write a book and dedicate it to your late husband’s village. You then channel proceeds from the book to uplift the village’s schools.

In a country where many young, so-called modern wives shun their in-laws rural homes even when they live only a few kilometres away, this may seem like a hard task.

Indeed many of these modern Kenyan wives, hardly have any ties with their husbands’ rural villages or relatives.

Since these women do not visit the in-laws when their husbands are alive, it would be almost unthinkable that they would step into their late husband’s rural home when he is gone.

That is why we thought Linda’s story has strong lessons for local Kenyan women on how to live with and appreciate their in-laws.

Linda Tilton Okatch, 64, has easily done all the above. She was barely out of teenage when she met an equally young Thadayo Okatch from Kolo village in Rusinga Island at George Washington University in Washington DC in 1963, two years after the young man had arrived in the US from Kenya on a scholarship to study political science.

Okatch had gone to America in 1961, courtesy of a scholarship, popularly known as academic airlifts, spearheaded by then cabinet minister, Tom Mboya.

She had been introduced to him during a students party by Alphonce Okuku, a brother of Tom Mboya, whom she had known earlier and who was also from Rusinga.

Linda instantly fell, in love with him.

“Okatch was handsome and always stepped out dressed in a suit and a tie. He knew how to make a woman feel special and loved. I was overwhelmed when we started going out. He was also generous,” Linda reveals.

At that time, inter-racial relationships were not as accepted as they are today and when their relationship became known because they could no longer keep it a secret, Linda’s parents were not amused.

Her mother was particularly incensed that her only daughter would “let the family down in such a big way” by dating an African man.

Her father, then a government lawyer in Washington, was quite accommodative and it is him who gave her the courage to take the love to the next level.

“My mother and stepfather (her parents were divorced) even chased me away from home. I had to live with Okatch in an apartment outside the university,” she says.

She had joined the university to study art and after dating for two years, they decided it was time to get married.

“We had our first baby in 1967 and by this time, I had made up my mind that this was the man I wanted in my life,” she says.

We named our son Jafri Otieno. But Linda’s bliss was not to last. Like many Kenyan students who moved to the US at that time, Okatch loved partying.

One day, in the wee hours of the night, he was attacked by a gang of black boys as he left an entertainment spot. They demanded money from him. When he failed to produce it, they shot and he died on the spot.

Soon after the murder, Okatch’s body was flown to Kenya for burial. Though Linda had wanted to accompany it, it was not possible.

“Otieno was very small and i needed more preparations.” she says.

At the time of his death, Okatch was studying at the University of Missouri, Kansas City.

Her first encounter with the Okatch family came a week after the burial when she flew in together with her son.

“I had to come and see where my husband was buried. I felt the urge to visit and mourn with his family. It was unfortunate that we were meeting for the first time under such circumstances but I prayed a lot for the family, “says Linda.

At Rusinga, what she found was a devastated family.

“Okatch’s mother had eleven children and eight had died. Only three were remaining and all the family’s hopes had lain with Okatch,” she says.

The first thing that caught her attention was the way his people mourned their dead.

“I had packed Okatch’s suits thinking they would be used by relatives but I found them hang around the grave,” she recollects.

The family accepted me and my baby and before long, a strong bond would be cemented between her and the family  as they included her in all aspects of their life.

“We would often have our meals of fish and brown ugali in the open and I completely felt part of the family,” she says.

She had initially thought of coming back when Otieno was about five years and able to talk but the urge to come back overwhelmed her and she made her second trip in 1970.

Linda was so determined to return to Kenya that in an interview with The Kansas City Times on February 13, 1969, she said, “My son and I are returning to Kenya, to live there permanently. I do not know when exactly we shall go there or even how, but we are definitely going back for good someday.”

“I will take you back there soon,” she always told him when he asked where his father’s home was.

It was not only Linda who yearned for the company of her Kenyan relatives. Okatch’s cousins had come to respect her and appreciate her as one of their own.

In 1990, one of the relatives went to the US to look for her.

“She stayed with me for several days. I think her coming to look for us was a show of great love,” she says.

The following year, Linda was back in Rusinga to reciprocate the visit.

Since 2000, Linda has never spent a year without visiting Rusinga. By this time, she had mooted the idea of moving into the village and living there permanently.

From these annual visits, things moved fast. In 1992, she discussed with Otieno, then 23, the possibility of him visiting Kenya.

With the help of a friend, Otieno got some internship at the United Nations Environmental Programme (UNEP) in Nairobi.

During his four- month stay, he made several trips to Rusinga to discover as much as possible all he could about his father’s land. He also learnt some Dholuo.

Otieno would later do a Master’s degree in African Studies from the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA).

“He has always told me the interest was spurred by his love for Africa and her people,” says the proud mother.

Today, Otieno J. Okatch runs a set of businesses in California on top of being executive director of PALS, INC, an organisation that provides management services to adults with developmental disabilities.

He is a man proud of his heritage. Five years ago, mother and son bought a three-acre beach plot on Rusinga Island where they are putting up an ultra-modern beach club.

“Wayando Beach Club is an investment that means I belong here permanently,” she says showing us where it is located, a kilometre from Okatch’s home.

When Saturday Magazine team caught up with her in Nairobi during a visit to the city last weekend, Linda was preparing to fly back to the island where she also does organic farming.

At the village, Okatchi’s three brothers are no more but their widows keep Linda good company when she is around. They are Stella, Esther and Janet.

“There are other younger relatives and we get along well,” she says.

Though the family had allowed her to “use some land for whatever purpose she wanted”, Linda found it more prudent to buy her own land and develop it.

It is here that she is building a traditional house (simba) for Otieno.

“He is a Luo son and it was important that he adhere to some cultural practices,” says Linda. She isn’t through with paying homage to her husband’s ancestral roots.

A photographer and artist by profession, Linda has just published a book titled Rusinga Island, which tells the socio-economic story of the island.

The book captures the beauty of life on the island and candidly lays bare the struggles that local people go through as they fend for themselves.

“By powerfully telling this story in pictures, I wanted to keep the record for posterity,” says Linda. Proceeds from the book sales will go to yet- to-be identified schools on the island.

Linda is able to speak some Dholuo and is content that the relationship she has with the locals will further enhance her language skills.

“Next time I come, I will not leave. My complete relocation to this country is almost sealed,” she says.

She is confident that Otieno will one day be a bigger man that he is today, because “he is as intelligent as his father”.

bmuiruri@nation.co.ke

One in every seven married couples between 25 and 35 may end up in divorce, experts say.

Some attribute this gloomy prospect to the extinction of the alpha male, while others blame the increasingly independent Kenyan woman. Others cite the neglect of cultural traditions.

But family lawyers, marriage counsellors, separated spouses, clergy and sociologists agree on this: Marriage is hard work and, contrary to popular belief, love alone is not enough to see young couples walk arm and arm into their twilight years.

Take Ben Kihara and Catherine Wanjiku. They met at a friend’s wedding and hit it off immediately. On the surface, they looked like every other young Kenyan couple eager to embrace life and spend the rest of their days together.

Unfulfilled promises

From the church steps on their wedding day, they seemed to share a common destiny. So, before family and friends, they vowed that only death would part them. But after nine years, two children and a number of unfulfilled promises, they could not wait and called it quits.

Experts say the separation rate among Kenyan couples continues to rise, but today’s divorces are much younger.

Last year, 569 divorce cases were filed in Nairobi alone on grounds varying from adultery to cruelty.

In 2005, the figure was 458. Data from the Milimani Commercial Court, which handles divorce cases for marriages conducted in churches in Nairobi, shows that 387 divorce cases were filed last year.

In addition, the High Court Registry recorded 182 divorce cases from civil marriages conducted at the Attorney-General’s chambers over the same period.

Outside courts

“The differences were too many. We couldn’t even stay together for the children,” said Ms Wanjiku, a practising lawyer in the city.

As a result, the duo, both 32, came to an understanding that works for them outside the courts and marriage. Ms Wanjiku spends weekdays with the boys since her apartment is closer to their school. Mr Kihara, a hair dresser, has them on weekends and public holidays.

Despite the fact that the two have remained close friends and occasionally get together for old time’s sake, they believe they are irreconcilable. Mr Kihara says the mother of his children was not according him the respect he deserved as the man of the house.

“She couldn’t trust me to make any important decision. When she sought my opinion, she had already made her mind up on the course of action she thought fit, even when she was clearly wrong,” he said.

Divorce lawyers say the statistics recorded in the courts are just the tip of the iceberg.

“Divorce and separation are private affairs, and most people simply opt to go different ways and live different lives. It is a much easier option,” said Nairobi lawyer Stephen Gitonga.

Last year, the Maendeleo ya Wanaume organisation claimed more than a million men were being abused by their spouses.

The organisation’s chairperson Ndiritu Njoka says men are being denied their god-given rights to head their families, to choose how many children they have and to control their wives in and out of the bedroom.

Mr Njoka says both Kenyan men and masculinity are in crisis. As a result, the family unit as we know it is losing its values.

Sociologists say the change in the family unit may be a result of a shift in the value system.

Dr Halimu Shauri of Kenyatta University’s Pwani Campus says society has reinvented itself by creating women out to prove a point and men measuring success in terms of how much money they make. All else, including family, is secondary.

Is this ambitious and assertive woman created by society biting off more than she can chew, resulting in men shunning her in pursuit of a more traditional “wife material” girl?

Or has the man, in his quest for financial freedom, lost what it takes to steer his family in the direction that would put all, including the children, at peace?

“He was not man enough for me. He couldn’t make decisions and could not stand up for what he believes in. Even when I was in the wrong, he couldn’t reprimand me. He was too soft,” Ms Wanjiku said of her former husband.

And if either the men or women fail in their quest to reachtheir goals, then the union is generally doomed.

“Desperation sets in, and the slide into drunkenness or infidelity begins. Eventually, everyone goes his or her own way,” s Dr Shauri said.

Francis Sitati works with a Nairobi law firm. He is 28, an age at which his father was already married and expecting a second child. But he vows he will make no such mistake.

“A baby now will be drama. I want to get married and get a child. But from what I have seen, things can get pretty ugly between the parents even before the baby starts crawling,” he said.

Last year, one of his friends married a workmate, and the two got a baby within the first year of their union. Four months after the birth of a baby girl, she left him.

“The woman only told him that her career aspirations would not go well with him by her side. So it would be better if they went their separate ways. All this was in a note left on their bedroom drawer,” Mr Sitati said. “She left for the United Kingdom, with the child.”

Modern woman

Such realities of life make many men steer clear of the modern woman.

Mr Sitati says he was brought up believing that a wife should do the dishes, wash his clothes and at least cook him a warm meal.

“Where will you get such a person nowadays? They are just too busy for us,” he said.

But Fida chairperson Naomi Wagereka says what some of these traditions obscure are things like domestic abuse.

“An educated woman cannot simply ignore them,” she said.

To others, the loss of age-old traditions is to blame.

“You meet in a bar, date for three months, move in together after six months and get a baby after a year. Two years later you realise you have nothing in common and split up. All this happens because many do not understand the difference between a marriage and a wedding,” said Loice Noo, a counsellor at Amani Counselling Services.

Satisfy relatives

“Some women get married to get babies, then move out. Men, on the other hand, may get married to satisfy relatives that nag them about a wife or to secure a promotion at work,” she said.

The counsellor says couples no longer take time to get to know one another and believe love is all it takes to see them through and ignore obvious hurdles.

Mrs Noo says in the past if a couple was in trouble the whole clan would be at their doorstep. “Nowadays we are answerable to no one.”

Dr Shauri believes that in spite of people always pointing fingers at women whenever things go wrong, men should also shoulder blame for the degeneration of family values.

“A woman will not do all the things you wish her to do if you do not act like a man. Show ambition and give direction. This doesn’t mean you need to bully her around,” he said.

Source: Daily Nation