The Leaps of Joseph Lemasolai Lekuton

by Mary Tamer

If Joseph Lemasolai Lekuton, Ed.M.'03, were a betting man, chances are he would have given up on his life plan long ago.

With insurmountable challenges placed in his path time and time again, Lekuton has continued to defy the odds, gaining a seat in Kenya's Parliament last July after the unexpected death of popular MP Titus Ngoyoni. Not only did Lekuton gain more votes than his opponent -- Ngoyoni's widow, Mary -- but he defied rivals and elders in deciding to run in the special election in the first place.

As his friends and colleagues will tell you, saying no to Lekuton serves the same purpose as putting a rabbit in front of a greyhound at the racetrack; it will only make him run faster in the forward direction.

"Joseph is someone who has been developing his vision for a number of years," says Professor Fernando Reimers, Ed.M.'84, Ed.D.'88, director of HGSE's International Education Policy (IEP) Program, "and he will make a diff erence wherever he goes."

But what fuels the relentless drive of Joseph Lemasolai Lekuton, a man who can rightly lay claim to the titles of cow herder, warrior, award-winning author, beloved teacher, humanitarian, and now Parliamentarian? The true answer may be known only to Lekuton himself.

"You know I am still a teacher in my heart," Lekuton told his former students at the Langley School in Virginia during a farewell visit in September. "It's never about yourself. It has to be, 'What can you do for someone else?' That is how you keep your dream alive."

A Boy's Life

While he may not have a specific record of his birth, Lemasolai Lekuton's future as a Masaai warrior and nomadic cow herder was his inherent destiny by the time he was born some 40 years ago in a northern region of Kenya. His people, the Ariaal, are a subgroup of the Masaai and live a traditional rural life in a semi-arid region, an area now plagued by the worst drought since 1965.

Nearly 90 percent of the livestock there have been lost, and Lekuton's mother, once the proud owner of nearly 300 cows, is now left with only 20 to 30 head.

In a country where 50 percent of the people live below the poverty line, where unemployment hovers at 40 percent, and where the average annual income is $1,100, Lekuton's early years spent in a cow-dung hut -- as now widely reported in mass media from the Washington Post to NBC News to People magazine -- was a simple and plain fact of his existence. Education was not a planned part of a warrior and herder's life, and with an illiteracy rate among the Ariaal of nearly 99 percent, it was never expected that Lekuton would go to school, let alone make it to the United States or Harvard.

"My mother has no idea what Harvard is," Lekuton told the Harvard Gazette in June 2003, just days before his graduation. "Other people enjoy my success coming to Harvard, and she has no idea. My whole family cannot comprehend what's going on. They don't even know what school is."

Lekuton's initial shot for an education was "an accident." His older brother was the one chosen to attend a missionary school 50 miles away but fled -- to a hyena's den, no less -- after only a few days. Fortuitously, Joseph, as he came to be called by the missionaries (Lemasolai is his Masaai name), went instead, returning home every few months as he gained knowledge of people and places far beyond the realm of his tribe.

"I think I was six when I was chosen to go to school, but I'm not sure because I don't really know my age," Lekuton told the Washington Post in 2003. "The moment I went to school it was a whole different world. I had never seen books or candy before. I had never worn shorts, just the red cloth (like a loincloth). A big difference between school and the hut was that no rain came through the roof in school. I was used to sleeping in the hut with my family. But at school you sleep with more than 50 students in the (dormitory). It was cold in the dormitory because there was no fire. We always had a fire in the hut."

Having gained the attention of former Kenyan President Daniel Toroitich arap Moi through his skills on the soccer field, Lekuton was later admitted to an elite preparatory school in Nakaru as a beneficiary of Moi's. He arrived on his first day in tattered, dirty clothes, having ridden for two days in the back of a cattle truck soaked with cow's urine. As he arrived at the school's foreboding gate, he was pegged as a beggar and told by a uniformed guard that he didn't belong there. Lekuton was emphatic in his message to the guard that he was indeed exactly where he deserved to be.

"Walking through these gates," he told NBC News, "was like a miracle for me."

The Langley Years

The connection made with then-President Moi proved to be a fruitful one on many counts for the young Lekuton. According to numerous press reports, not only did Moi cover his secondary school tuition, but the former president also listened when Lekuton told him about the plight of his people as they battled drought and famine. Upon his graduation from the preparatory school, Moi assisted Lekuton in gaining a job at a Kenyan bank that ultimately led to his next great leap -- his 1989 admission to St. Lawrence University in the United States. While his tuition was covered by a scholarship for African students, his plane fare was not, and his mother -- along with members of their tribe -- sold off more than 70 goats and cows to pay his way to New York.

It was shortly after his arrival in the States that Joseph met Kathleen Colson, a graduate of St. Lawrence who had traveled extensively in Kenya, even to the remote northern part where Lekuton was raised and where tourists rarely venture. The two became friends, and Lekuton became a regular guest at her family's home for Thanksgiving and other holidays.

"Joseph has this unbelievable charisma," says Colson, who serves as the executive director of the Boma Fund, an organization that works with community groups in Kenya to alleviate poverty and to support projects beneficial to the local people. "He's so adaptable, and he hit the ground running [in the United States] pretty quickly."

And he learned how to bet, says Colson, though not in a manner common to most Americans.

"He loves basketball, so my husband Doug, and Joseph would watch basketball games together and they would have these bets," she says. "Joseph would offer a typical African bet: whoever loses can't eat for two days." It was a gamble that Colson's husband was often hesitant to make.

In four years, Lekuton graduated from St. Lawrence with both a bachelor's in economics and government and a master's degree in education. He pursued work as a teacher, landing at the Langley School in McLean, Virginia, a preschool-through-eighth-grade institution where the tuition runs approximately $22,000 per year. Lekuton's transition to the pristine setting of Langley -- nestled in a city with a median income exceeding $120,000 that serves as home to U.S. senators, cabinet members, and Vice President Dick Cheney -- was more seamless than one might expect.

"So when you straddle these two cultures," asked Kerry Sanders of NBC News to Lekuton, "can you choose which one is closest to your heart?"

"Love them both equally," replied Lekuton. "Equally."

As a teacher of history and social studies, Lekuton also loved sharing his stories of life in Kenya, captivating his audience with his colorful tales of tribal existence on the plains while imparting the importance of serving as good citizens in a global society.

"My first encounter with Joseph was as a Langley board member," says Jeri Eckhart Queenan, whose four children all attended Langley. "I was in the back of his classroom on board visiting day and I was totally drawn into this conversation I will never forget. He had a small group of seventh- and eighth-graders and he was engaging them in a discussion of what is civilization. I didn't want to leave, it was so inspirational."

Lekuton's talks about Kenya and the plight of her people soon evolved into an action plan. At Langley he had made a point to travel home during each school break, and he decided to organize school trips to Kenya in the summer months; at first taking groups of 20 to 30 parents and students that quickly grew to groups of 100 by his final year. While the traditional Kenyan safari was a component of the two-week excursion, a greater part was providing needed services to the Masaai and others. Monies were raised to buy livestock, holes were dug for water systems and latrines, and books and supplies were provided for area schools. For Queenan and her family, their 2004 trip was nothing short of a life-changing experience.

"For me, seeing people who live in abject poverty has just stayed with me, and it is incumbent upon all of us to close that gap," says Queenan, a strategic planning consultant for nonprofits who is now devoting more of her time to African in the United States and there are billions of people who live on less than $1 or $2 a day. It's our obligation to solve that problem…and it's a very difficult and intractable problem, but I think it's our obligation. It has become my passion."

Queenan's 13-year-old son, C.J., was similarly affected.

"I think what we couldn't anticipate was how the trip would affect his values," says Queenan. "C.J. was a typical McLean kid who really enjoyed the finer things in life. When we were in Kenya, we worked in a school with no running water and no bathrooms. My son spent four hours digging a hole for a latrine in 100-degree heat with a broken shovel, and he came out of that hole a different kid. He's much more focused on helping others, and he says he wants to go back to Africa to help people there."

When the opportunity for a sabbatical neared in 2002, Lekuton decided to spend his year at HGSE as a master's candidate in the IEP Program. The Langley School and its parents were supportive of the
move, helping Lekuton financially with one stipulation: that he would return to teaching for two more
years once he completed his program.

"Right before he was due to come back, there was a rumor flying around campus that he was going to break his sabbatical agreement," says Queenan. "I was at my daughter's graduation ceremony in June, and Joseph had just graduated from Harvard the day before. He had been his class speaker at Harvard and he drove all night to make it back to Langley for their graduation. He came and sat next to me and I said, 'Joseph, I heard you may not be coming back. Is that true?'

"He looked at me and said, 'My word is my honor. I am coming back.' That's when I knew he was the man to combat corruption in Kenya."

Life in Politics

When news of Lekuton's Parliament win spread among those who knew him, few were surprised that their friend had begun his long-planned ascent into Kenya's politics.

"I think many of us were aware that he had a desire to go back to Kenya and gain elected office," says Queenan. "He has been laying the groundwork for several years…he stayed in close contact with his village…he brought a lot of resources and has continued to try to work on the root problems…. He is an extraordinarily gifted person and Africa needs him."

"I think what makes Joseph so unique among Kenyans is his desire to give back to his people. has always been motivated by that," says Colson, who also oversees Cows for Kids, a nonprofit livestock program started by Lekuton after he wrote his award-winning memoir, Facing the Lion: Growing Up Masaai on the African Savannah (see story). The program gives female cows to children and their families in northern Kenya. The milk and livestock produced by each cow helps pay for school fees and healthcare needs.

"After he won the election, he was immediately sworn in and then spent the next two months up north, spending time with his people," says Colson. "I talked with one of his friends…there's no formal communication up there…and he told me, 'You know how he is. He goes into a village and stays up all night listening to them talk.' That's Joseph. He just has such incredible passion.

His passionate actions have led to a number of accolades and prestigious awards, including Kenya's Order of the Grand Warrior, "a presidential award for exemplary service to his nation" according to the Cows for Kids website, as well as the title of a National Geographic Emerging Explorer for 2006.

Thanks to Colson, Lekuton's face has also become synonymous with Kenya, as images she took of him and later sold to Getty Images are now used by the country's tourism industry -- on billboards, in magazine advertisements, and even on the luggage carts at Jomo Kenyatta Airport in Nairobi.

For his IEP friends, who remain in touch with Lekuton via e-mail and the occasional cell phone call, they are hardly surprised by trajectory of their former classmate from teacher to statesman, with a future poised for even more. If Lekuton were to run for president one day -- and many suspect he will -- he would follow in the path of former President Moi, a man who helped Lekuton on his path to education and who had also worked as a teacher for nearly 10 years before his own entrée to political life.

"I'm very excited for him because I think it's rare for someone to have that kind of power and potential," says Ilana Umansky, Ed.M.'03, an international education consultant. "I feel really excited for him, really excited for our field and for Kenya to have someone who can make exciting change there. It's a great opportunity."

"He has the potential to achieve whatever he puts his mind to, whether it is the presidency or something else," says Mei Mei Peng, Ed.M.'03, of the United States Agency for International Development. "What's really impressed me the most about Joseph is the positive attitude he has; a positive spirit and will. He's realistic about challenges and issues, but he's very positive about finding solutions, and he has a lot of hope for things to work out."

"A number of people here got organized to help him, and that speaks volumes…because we believe in him and what he's doing," says Queenan. "Quite a few of us involved in these larger issues in Africa see Joseph as a really critical piece to ending poverty in his region. I spent the whole summer studying different models of development and poverty amelioration, and Joseph is key. He is someone who is engaged at the local level who can engage the NGOs as well as politicians in the United States.

"I think he can have an enormous impact in five years, and I do believe he is part of the solution for Africa."

About the Article

A version of this article originally appeared in the Winter 2007 issue of Ed., the magazine of the Harvard Graduate School of Education.

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Photgraphs by Linda Crumpecker and Jon Chase/Harvard News Office