AJWANG A BRENDAH- 🇰🇪

Mother; Medical doctor ; Bibliophile; aspiring physician; lover of arts;

[Arsenal @Arsenal]

The Arsenal. Your Premier League champions.

[Barack Obama @BarackObama]

Raila Odinga was a true champion of democracy. A child of independence, he endured decades of struggle and sacrifice for the broader cause of freedom and self-governance in Kenya. Time and again, I personally saw him put the interests of his country ahead of his own ambitions. Like few other leaders anywhere, he was willing to choose the path of peaceful reconciliation without compromising his core values. Through his life, Raila Odinga set an example not just for Kenyans, but across Africa and around the world. I know he will be missed. Michelle and I send our deepest condolences to his family and to the people of Kenya.

[AJWANG A BRENDAH- 🇰🇪 @AjwangABresh]

@OneLuckyGirl_28 Financial breakthrough

[AJWANG A BRENDAH- 🇰🇪 @AjwangABresh]

@KenyaPower_Care It is now 7.43pm and we still Don't have power in Okore

[AJWANG A BRENDAH- 🇰🇪 @AjwangABresh]

@KenyaPower_Care is the weapon fashioned against me storing breastmilk for my baby, it will not prosper. We must exclusively feed on breastmilk for 6 months

[AJWANG A BRENDAH- 🇰🇪 @AjwangABresh]

Nikiulizwa naishi wapi na niseme 'kwa furnace' , nitakuwa na makosa kweli?

[Sema Ukweli @SemaUkweliKenya]

My name is Annete Githinji and I want to share with you about the day that I almost lost my life. It was on 2nd November 2022, when my then ex-boyfriend Billy Mudavadi Kisia was staying at my apartment in Clayworks, Kasarani area.

We were still on good terms at the time and occasionally spoke on the phone. My ex had called and told me he was having issues with his rent and had been kicked out by his landlord, and since I had been staying with my parents during the month of October and hadn’t moved back to my apartment yet, I told him he could stay there for a few days as he organized himself.
He arrived at mid-day on 1st November and after letting him in, we talked for a while before I departed to my parents’ home. The next day, he asked me to come over with some food during the day, as there was no food at my apartment. I made breakfast and took it to him at around 11 a.m.
We talked for a while as he ate then after he was done, he turned to me and asked how I had been doing. Unaware of the repercussions at the time, I proudly informed him that I had moved on from our once-abusive relationship (he had a habit of putting his hands on me). This response seemed to have rubbed him the wrong way as he immediately reached for my phone and dialed the number of the person I was seeing at the time. He then proceeded to interrogate both of us about our relationship and upon gathering what he felt was sufficient information to render a verdict, he turned all his attention back to me.

He instructed me to kneel down while I begged him for forgiveness, pleading, hoping he wouldn’t hurt me but my pleas fell on deaf ears. Once I got on my knees, he kicked me twice in the face and then proceeded to stamp my back with his foot. He pulled me up, as I hunched over holding my face, and kicked me in the stomach twice, then held my face up to him and started hitting it with a closed fist. All the while he was smiling at me.

I tried protecting myself as best I could but he easily swept my hands away and continued punching me in the face. At some point, I pretended to faint but playing dead only works on a predator that’s had its fill. I remember lying on the floor, seeing the carpet completely covered in the blood I was coughing up as he continued to beat me relentlessly. Calling out for help only incensed him further and my neighbours couldn’t hear me anyway, since my apartment was a penthouse unit.

At one point I reached for my Meko top grill and struck him with it as I tried to distract him but to no avail. He threw me onto the bed and got on top of me as we struggled for the grill. He then put his knee of my neck and tried to choke me. I remember making my peace with God as I gasped for air. I looked him dead in the eye hoping to catch a glimpse of the man I had fallen in love with but he was no longer there. In his place was this man I didn’t recognize. I eventually let go of the grill top and he immediately struck me on the head with it, cracking my skull in the process. As he was about to deliver the final killer blow, I instinctively raised my right hand to cover my face and the impact landed on my arm, breaking it immediately.

I remember the blood running down my face as I looked at my face in the mirror, unable to recognize the reflection looking back at me. Holding my shattered arm, I even asked him to take me to the hospital several times, as I realized the level of damage that had been inflicted upon my person, but my pleas fell on deaf ears.

At around 5 p.m. my youngest sister called me twice and after my ex allowed me to answer her call, I told her I was at my house in Kasarani collecting my clothes for the cold season. The aim of the message was to ensure that everyone was aware I was in Kasarani, in the event that things took a dark turn.

As he continued to assault me, he made the mistake of allowing me to communicate with my people at home. At around 7 p.m. my brother called asking me to immediately take a cab home because he was concerned for my safety. He wasn’t aware that I was with my assailant at the time but was aware that he had a history of abusing me. I told him the same thing, that I was in Kasarani, despite being instructed to tell him that I was along Waiyaki Way, my assailant’s last known address. This angered my ex as he instructed me to call my brother back and inform him that I was on Waiyaki Way at his place.

The assault continued in between phone calls. It was dark now, hours into my abduction and progressive assault. While in the house, I was instructed to shut the door with the padlock, draw the curtains, and keep the lights off to prevent people from knowing we were inside.

He continued the assault, now hitting me wherever his fist would land, on my head, my face, my ears, all the blows were targeted in the areas above my shoulders - all aimed at the destruction of my mind and head.
At around 8 p.m. my very concerned parents, whom I had talked to earlier that day, called asking about my location. I was under strict instructions not to switch to my mother tongue, as my mum usually communicated in Kikuyu. The phone, now on loud speaker, and a very hysterical me on the other end of the line, crying uncontrollably, sent the message home. A message of distress.
I informed my assailant that my mother would come for me, no matter what. (MAMA YANGU LAZIMA AKUJE !) I repeated these words to him for hours on end. My mum is going to come get me. I knew she would.

As the hours passed, the calls from my parents continued coming, now demanding that I send them a pin to my location, since I had previously given them different locations, following instructions from my assailant (Waiyaki Way, NNE Market and Uthiru). He eventually got irritated and insisted that I switch my phone off to keep them from calling again.

The assault on my person neither stopped nor reduced in intensity as he continued to hit me in the dark, blow after blow, further affirming my earlier suspicion that the aim of the attack was to put me in the ground. I was going to die that night. Held hostage in my home, my first ever home, the first time I decided to try life, to fly out of the nest. I was going to die in my small rooftop bedsitter, in a building in Clayworks.

At 10:00 p.m. I heard a voice I had never thought I would hear again, the voice of my mum, now standing outside my door. For the first time that night, I felt like I was going to make it out.

“Fungua mlango ama nivunje”, she said, as she knocked loudly on the door. A few moments later I heard my dad’s voice. A wave of relief washed over me. There was then a conversation over getting my spare keys from the car six floors down. Then silence and ultimately a loud bang on the window, once, then a second time, breaking two window panes. Then the curtain was drawn revealing their faces.

At this point, my assailant had tried to push us into the bathroom to hide from my parents. After refusing to go in, he held me in a corner near the kitchen sink, asking me what we were going to do. Cowering behind me, a bloody, wounded, broken me. Now meant to protect him from the wrath of my parents.

When I saw my parents’ faces, I quickly reached for my house keys, ran to open the door, and escaped outside, revealing myself to my parents. Outside at last, I took in a big breath of air and thanked God for getting me out alive, although barely. I was bleeding from my mouth and the gash on my head, and was holding onto my broken arm.

My mum let out a loud cry, “Umepiga mtoto wangu?”, alerting everyone in the building who had been unaware of the crime that was being committed right under their noses. They all came to witness the scene of the crime, all of them concerned since it wasn’t the first time an alarm had been raised from my home due to assault.

Almost ten hours later, I was out. I was alive. I was grateful. With only one thought on my mind. I had to live through this. I had to stay alive to ensure that I had a future.

My dad was tasked with holding the assailant in my house as we made a beeline for the Kasarani Police Station to report the crime. At the station we were met with excuses that there were not enough officers in the station who could be assigned to make the arrest. The delay led to my assailant running away, bare foot, into the night chased by my dad and our building’s security guard.

In the meantime, my mum asked my brother to accompany me to the St. Francis Community Hospital where, upon examination, they first stitched the gash on my head before I was sent off to the x-ray centre. They scanned my arm before they put it in a cast, then did a CT scan to check the extent of injuries to my head. The scan confirmed a crack in my cranium that would’ve proved fatal had he managed to get another blow in. The words of my attending doctor were, “Umebahatika sana kuwa umefika hapa (you’re very lucky to have made it here), you were knocking on the door of death as it is”.
I was then admitted for a period of what felt like a life time. Further examinations from the ENT showed that both my eardrums were perforated and I was banned from swimming, loud noises, wearing earphones, or doing anything that could compromise the healing process. That was me. Born whole, careful with my person all my life, never admitted for anything up to this point, and all I was left with now was a shadow of my former self.

I would wake up everyday and walk to the mirror and cry as I didn’t recognize the person looking back at me. A psychologist was immediately assigned to my case to ensure that she monitored my mental state, a journey that I have been on from that day to date. I was finally discharged, the swelling having gone down significantly, with two black eyes and my mental health in shambles.

So then began the journey to seeking justice. My dad and I visited the police for a medical report from the police doctor at their offices in Upper Hill, where we obtained the P3 form that we presented to the investigating officer in charge of my case. We then collected statements from willing parties within my building and entrusted the police with seeking justice on my behalf.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. No updates. No new reports. Just the usual, “Hatumpati kwa simu (we can’t trace him on the phone)”.

To keep me from losing my mind, we visited the GBV offices at the police station, where I met the counselor and we started our sessions together. We had sessions until early January 2023, when she recommended that I seek help from a psychiatrist who was better qualified to handle my issues.
At this time we had gotten desperate and proceeded to hire a private investigator, who only ended up compromising the case, but we never gave up seeking justice.
In April 2023, our search for help led us to the Quality Assurance office of the police, where we finally got a positive response. Finally, someone was willing to invest in my case. They listened to the plea of a young woman and her mother, who had so far received no help. They listened to me and started their independent investigation.

With people willing to walk the journey with me, I hatched a plan to track my assailant down once and for all. On 24th June, I created a pseudo-account on a popular dating site my ex liked, a fishing ground as I liked to refer to it during our time together. I found him. Finally.

My plan flowed seamlessly and on 27th June, a plan so well executed led to the arrest of my assailant at 5:49 p.m. along Ngong Road. In the lead were the Quality Assurance officers, accompanied by officers from the Riruta Police Station. As I watched thee police cuff my assailant, one Billy Mudavadi Kisia, I felt some sort of relief.
He was detained at the Riruta Police Station and then transferred to Kasarani Police Station, awaiting arraignment in court on Thursday 29th June 2023. After his first appearance in court, he was released on bond of Kshs 200,000.

During this journey I have had to live my life in fear of the things I used to do. I couldn’t leave the house, go to school, or work. I was even afraid of the dark. Tall as I am, I walk down a path constantly watching my back, waiting for him to pounce. I’m living under constant threat from my assailant. I received threatening texts from him on various social media platforms. He even tried contacting my younger sister through her social media accounts, trying any which way to reach me, his victim.

My prayer is that this man does not get a chance to walk away from this, not after all the turmoil he has brought into our lives, not after the long and painful journey I have taken to heal my soul, my mind, and my body.

I do not feel safe anywhere anymore. Please help me to raise the alarm to ensure that justice, long delayed and long denied, is finally delivered. #SemaUkweli

[AJWANG A BRENDAH- 🇰🇪 @AjwangABresh]

@UoN_FHS @Docmureithi Congratulations daktari!! I'm inspired

[Ellen Johnson Sirleaf @MaEllenSirleaf]

At 83, I'm not slowing down yet! We still have work to do to advance #genderequality and ensure that women hold their rightful place as leaders.

[AJWANG A BRENDAH- 🇰🇪 @AjwangABresh]

Rotavirus is the leading cause of diarrheal diseases in children under the age of 5 years. The vaccine has been out of stock in the whole country for over a month. This should get more attention @MOH_Kenya

[Daily Nation @NationAfrica]

Babies at risk as hospitals run out of rotavirus vaccine
#HealthyNation
https://t.co/XGpAFkI8Zv

[AJWANG A BRENDAH- 🇰🇪 @AjwangABresh]

Do you remember when you joined Twitter? I do! #MyTwitterAnniversary

[Big Gabi @Nairoblogistics]

A simple retweet can lead this child to her parents. Kindly help this child get her way back home tweeps.

[Author Sakwah Ongoma @CSakwah]

Story Thread

I almost wifed a kienyeji girl one December. I dogged a bullet. This kienyeji babes was part of the contingent of her village people attending their kin’s wedding in the city. I had known her from the village, which I had left 4 years earlier,

[University of Nairobi @uonbi]

Prof.Fredrick Were has been conferred with a Higher Doctorate Degree of Doctor of Science
#UoNgraduation #UoNclass2021

[University of Nairobi @uonbi]

Name: Idenya Pamela Mandela
Degree: Doctor of Philosophy Degree in Human Anatomy
Faculty: Health Sciences
#UoNclass2021 #UoNgraduation

[University of Nairobi @uonbi]

Prof. Frederick N. Were Doctor of Science (https://t.co/j6ZmXXYWNX) public defence

Date: September 17, 2021
Time: 2 pm
The link will be provided

Title: Impact of Health Systems Research on the Support for In-Patient Paediatric Services in Kenya’s Primary Referral Hospitals

[The_Ace @KorirCollin]

Tell your young cousins not to pursue medicine for its cash. You need better convictions to keep yourself grounded in this profession. Otherwise they'll crack

[sworn countryboy🇰🇪 @Alfie_kithinji]

Go study medicine. Its the best career😀😀😀😀.
Anyway; we shall continue serving humanity.
@MOH_Kenya please pay interns their delayed salaries. Its our only motivation.