Editor's Note [Volume 25 No. 4 (2025)]

https://doi.org/10.18697/ajfand.141.ED167

Tribute to the late Anderson Lumumba Barwa Shiare (my baby brother)

Micah 6:8 “He has told you, O mortal, what is good, and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.”

What can I say about my baby brother Lumumba? He was 16 years younger than I.

When he came, my elder sister Diana, now late, and I were over the moon, and he ended up having many names: Charles, Anderson, Shikanda after Mama's dad, and Shiare after Papa’s dad.

We spoiled Lumumba, at least we tried to. He was our Teddy bear. Mama's dying in 2004 and Papa's in 2006 turned the reins of Leadership over to him. And with a strong, focused partner, my sister in Law Ruth, together they have turned this home into what it is today.

Death is truly a thief that often comes in the middle of the night to steal your most treasured one. Uncle Sheik, Uncle Lumumba, as his nephews and nieces would call him, stayed close to them as the only Khotsa (uncle). They are devastated; they lack words to describe the loss they feel.

I have buried siblings and parents, and other loved ones. This one has come like a dagger thrust into my chest that does not quite kill me. To say the least, Lumumba and I were very close. He was my work manager, my philanthropic work overseer, and the Barwa family representative in functions such as funerals, weddings, and others. He most of the time used the green Toyota that I had bought for Papa in 2005. It was 4-wheel drive, quiet, smooth, and narrow enough to traverse narrow roads in rural areas, and he took good care of it.

The Elukhambi Health Center next to our home was supported financially by donors (Beyond Borders of Utah, USA), and because Lumumba and I worked on it closely, following the Government's protocols and inspections, it cost about one-third what it would have. It now serves people from near and far.

We would sit and talk at length about family issues. And on many occasions, I would tell him, “Mwanawefu (my dear brother), you know you will bury me.” God must have thought I was mocking Him. God the Supreme, God the All knowing, and God the All loving. I am sorry, but my brother should not have gone before me. He still had a lot to accomplish on this earth, a lot. I believe he has been reassigned elsewhere. There surely must be a better world elsewhere.

Meanwhile, as his family and close friends we are left in a lot of pain. A lot of pain. What hurts me is not so much that Lumumba has left us, but the broken healthcare system in this country that we have witnessed during this journey. The pain I saw in him and wished I could take away, the unnecessary delays and lack of empathy, lack of love and care I witnessed despite all the efforts by those who cared for him. For many healthcare workers, patients are just numbers; they die, and life moves on.

My heart bleeds and continues to bleed, and it must be because I excruciatingly feel the loss, like never before.  At the same time, though, I feel his spirit is resting. He finished his business in this cruel and unpredictable world. When you think of what the world did to Jesus, a beloved son of God, who are we? Just simple, heartless, and undeserving mortals, terrible sinners that we are.

God wants us to be kind, loving, show empathy and be caring to others, and support the lowly. That is what our parents instilled in us. So, for me personally, I have a huge responsibility to continue to carry the torch that God has put in my hands and pass it when my time comes.

To our parents and other loved ones who have passed on, I know you have received Lumumba well, into the house of God. I have that faith. To Lumumba's friends, mourn him well and remember him fondly. To my family, aki poleni sana. It is like a dream. To mourners here, friends of the family, we can only say murio muno (thank you so much) for all the support now and over the years, emotional, spiritual, technical, and financial. We are together. I am sure you will be happy to hear that I have decided to SURRENDER ALL to Jesus and the Almighty Saviour, otherwise, the burden would be too strong to carry. Fare-thee-well baby brother. Fare-thee-well.

May Khakaba (the Giver) keep you in a nice, blissful place, which you have earned. I loved you so much. I know I will grieve for a long time to come. My life will never be the same without you.

All will be well. Amen
Prof. Ruth Khasaya Oniang’o
Big sister

Prof. Ruth Khasaya Oniang'o
Founder and Editor-in-Chief, AJFAND
ORCID ID: https://orcid.org/0009-0005-8344-9093

Please enjoy the 14 well reviewed articles we have carried in this issue of AJFAND.