"My name is Phillister Waithera, 31 years old. I live in St. Mulumba Mission Hospital, in Thika town. This is where I and my two children have called home for the last eleven months. We were confined to this institution by the hand of fate that struck and shattered our lives one bright day last December. I remember that fateful morning vividly. I was in the business of selling detergents and I have just been called by a client to do some delivery. While at it I received a call from one of my neighbours that I should go to St. Mulumba Mission Hospital immediately. Despite the caller not delving into more details, my instincts told me things were not right. I rushed to the hospital and a few minutes later an ambulance arrived with my two young boys, Mark and Manasseh, inside. They were severely burnt. Their faces and backs had third degree burns and their condition was critical. By then doctors in public hospitals were on strike hence they couldn’t be taken to Thika Level Five Kenyatta National Hospital, despite the fact that they required admittance to the ICU. On seeing their desperate state, doctors here received them despite the fact that St. Mulumba is yet to have an ICU. For that I will forever be grateful this hospital and its staff. For more than six months I sustained the agony of seeing my kids suffer excruciating pain during wound cleaning and therapy. Mark, the older one, could only sleep on his belly since his entire back was covered with a huge burn wound. Their cries and yells of pain were so heart wrenching for me as a mother. I never had time to sleep or eat since I was tending to both day and night. Nurses and well-wishers would try to assist during which I could catch a few minutes of sleep. But I kept singing to them the words of Isaiah 53: 5 that say “and by his wounds we are healed”. I would loudly pray and encourage and encourage them in their moments of pain. I really appreciate the nurses, the doctors and the hospital because they were, and are still, very accommodating. Despite the fact the bill is now more than ksh2 million, they still continue to offer my children the best treatment. A certain journalist called Wahome Thuku came here in April and helped raise some funds through the hospital’s paybill number. Well-wishers responded well although the bill has since risen up again. The hype created by the publicity then brought us a lot of visitors who would encourage and pray with us. But today there are only very few who come to visit. So sometimes it gets very lonely here. I lost everything in the inferno hence I don’t know where or how I will restart my life again after being discharged from this hospital. Doctors says that Manasseh is now fit to go home while Mark is on his way to full recovery. However, they still require to undergo expensive corrective surgery at some point. My biggest worry is where will we head after getting out of this hospital? Being an orphan I was raised by my aunt. We were displaced by the 2007 post electoral violence from Majani Mingi to Nakuru town where we lived as IDPs. While matters of life led me to Thika, my aunt still lives in the Ndonga Farm IDP camp in Subukia. When the fire accident happened, I had a seven months old baby who couldn’t live with us in the hospital. She now lives with my aunt in the IDP Camp. But in all this, I haven’t lost hope. I know God is on our side and as He says in Psalm 68:5 He is “a father to the fatherless, and a defender of widows”. I know and believe one day I will tell my story as a testimony to encourage those who are hurting like me.