My "Other Brother"

I always wanted a little brother, and once I turned 30 I got my wish, I just didn’t know he would be Kenyan.

You learn a lot about someone when you travel to Africa with someone, and Eli. Eli and I have done that trip twice and are almost certain to do it again. Somewhere along the line I started calling him my “Other Brother.”

It started off as a bit of a joke during our 2009 mission trip because every other man we met in Kenya Eli would introduce to us as “My other brother.” Yes the guy has a big family, and yes tribal relations are strong in that part of Kenya, but I started getting the feeling that Eli was related to half of Kenya. For the record I believe there are seven brothers and I think I’ve met four of them?

So when we got back to the states I started introducing him as, “This is my other brother Eli.” The joke has sorta stuck.

I’m not the sort of person who hands out nicknames or family titles to people. I know other people have surrogate mothers, fathers, cousins and nephews but I’m pretty much content with the family I have. With Eli we’ve definitely reached a different sort relationship I’ve not really had in my adult life.

We’ve crossed the equator together; experienced the joy of new life and stood with each other through tragedy. Together I think we’ve made a good team and have reached a level of understanding and simpatico that I didn’t expect when we started Mwangaza. I know that with him I’ve managed to accomplish more good things in the last three years than I have in the prior 31, and that’s what family does; you make each other a better person.

Caption: Eli and I on Lake Victoria last month