William Kamkwamba - The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind: Creating Currents of Electricity and Hope

THE PREPARATION WAS COMPLETE, so I waited. The muscles in

BEFORE I DISCOVERED THE miracles of science, magic ruled the

WHEN MY FATHER, TRYWELL, was a young man, HE was

IN JANUARY 1997, WHEN I was nine years OLD, OUR

THE YEAR I TURNED thirteen marked the beginning of a

DURING THIS TIME OF trouble, I discovered the bicycle dynamo.

DECEMBER ARRIVED WITH HEAVY clouds, black as oil, that gathered

THE NEXT WEEK, I received information better than any Christmas

NOT LONG AFTER THE radio report, my mother came home

MOST STUDENTS AT KACHOKOLO Secondary and Wimbe Primary stopped going

AS THE SCHOOL TERM approached, my father said nothing about

THE NEXT DAY AFTER lunch I began putting everything together.

AS I EXPLAINED TO Rose, the windmill wouldnt work without

AFTER ALL THESE LONG months, Id hoped that my fathers

IN EARLY NOVEMBER 2006, some officials from the Malawi Teacher

WHEN WE ARRIVED AT the airport in Arusha, Soyapi helped

IN JUNE 2008, I traveled to Cape Town, South Africa,

T HE PREPARATION WAS COMPLETE, so I waited. The muscles in my arms still burned from having worked so hard, but now I was finished. The machinery was bolted and secured. The tower was steady and unmoving under the weight of twisted steel and plastic. Looking at it now, it appeared exactly as it wassomething out of a dream.

News of the machine had spread to the villages, and people were starting to arrive. The traders spotted it from their stalls and packed up their things. The truckers left their vehicles along the roads. Everyone walked into the valley, and now gathered in its shadow. I recognized these faces. Some of these people had mocked me for months, and still they whispered, even laughed. More of them were coming. It was time.

Balancing the small reed and wires in my left hand, I used the other to pull myself onto the towers first rung. The soft wood groaned under my weight, and the compound fell silent. I continued to climb, slowly and assuredly, until I was facing the machines crude frame. Its plastic arms were burned and blackened, its metal bones bolted and welded into place. I paused and studied the flecks of rust and paint, how they appeared against the fields and mountains beyond. Each piece told its own tale of discovery, of being lost and found in a time of hardship and fear. Finally together now, we were all being reborn.

Two wires dangled from the heart of the machine and gently danced in the breeze. I knotted their frayed ends together with the wires that sprouted off the reed, just as Id always pictured. Down below, the crowd cackled like a gang of birds.

Quiet down, someone said. Lets see how crazy this boy really is.

A sudden gust muffled the voices below, then picked up into a steady wind. It took hold of my T-shirt and whistled through the tower rungs. Reaching over, I removed a bent piece of wire that locked the machines spinning wheel in place. Once released, the wheel and arms began to turn. They spun slowly at first, then faster and faster, until the force of their motion rocked the tower. My knees buckled, but I held on.

Dont let me down.

I gripped the reed and wires and waited for the miracle. Finally it came, at first a tiny light that flickered from my palm, then a surging magnificent glow. The crowd gasped and shuddered. The children pushed for a better look.

Its true! someone said.

Yes, said another. The boy has done it.

B EFORE I DISCOVERED THE miracles of science, magic ruled the world.

Magic and its many mysteries were a presence that hovered about constantly, giving me my earliest memory as a boythe time my father saved me from certain death and became the hero he is today.

I was six years old, playing in the road, when a group of herd boys approached, singing and dancing. This was in Masitala village near the city of Kasungu, where my family lived on a farm. The herd boys worked for a nearby farmer who kept many cows. They explained how theyd been tending their herd that morning and discovered a giant sack in the road. When they opened it up, they found it filled with bubble gum. Can you imagine such a treasure? I cant tell you how much I loved bubble gum.

Should we give some to this boy? one asked.

I didnt move or breathe. There were dead leaves in my hair.

Eh, why not? said another. Just look at him.

One of the boys reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of gumballs, one for every color, and dropped them into my hands. I stuffed them all in my mouth. As the boys left, I felt the sweet juice roll down my chin and soak my shirt.

The following day, I was playing under the mango tree when a trader on a bicycle stopped to chat with my father. He said that while on his way to the market the previous morning, hed dropped one of his bags. By the time hed realized what had happened and circled back, someone had taken it. The bag was filled with bubble gum, he said. Some fellow traders had told him about the herd boys passing out gum in the villages, and this made him very angry. For two days hed been riding his bicycle throughout the district looking for the boys. He then issued a chilling threat.

Ive gone to see the singanga, and whoever ate that gum will soon be sorry.

The singanga was the witch doctor.

Id swallowed the gum long before. Now the sweet, lingering memory of it soured into poison on my tongue. I began to sweat; my heart was beating fast. Without anyone seeing, I ran into the blue gum grove behind my house, leaned against a tree, and tried to make myself clean. I spit and hocked, shoved my finger into my throat, anything to rid my body of the curse. I came up dry. A bit of saliva colored the leaves at my feet, so I covered them with dirt.

But then, as if a dark cloud had passed over the sun, I felt the great eye of the wizard watching me through the trees. Id eaten his juju and now his darkness owned me. That night, the witches would come for me in my bed. Theyd take me aboard their planes and force me to fight, leaving me for dead along the magic battlefields. And as my soul drifted alone and forsaken above the clouds, my body would be cold by morning. A fear of death swept over me like a fever.

I began crying so hard I couldnt move my legs. The tears ran hot down my face, and as they did, the smell of poison filled my nose. It was everywhere inside me. I fled the forest as fast as possible, trying to get away from the giant magic eye. I ran all the way home to where my father sat against the house, plucking a pile of maize. I wanted to throw my body under his, so he could protect me from the devil.

It was me, I said, the tears drowning my words. I ate the stolen gum. I dont want to die, Papa. Dont let them take me!

My father looked at me for a second, then shook his head.

It was you, eh? he said, then kind of smiled.

Didnt he realize I was done for?

Well, he said, and rose from the chair. His knees popped whenever he stood. My father was a big man. Dont worry. Ill find this trader and explain. Im sure we can work out something.