As our son approached his fifth birthday, a quiet fear loomed in our hearts. While other children his age were forming sentences, calling out “Mum” or “Dad” with ease, our little boy remained silent. Not a single word. Not even a sound that resembled speech.
As parents, nothing prepares you for that kind of silence.
We were confused. Worried. Alone.
In those moments of uncertainty, advice poured in from every direction. Well-meaning friends and other parents—some who considered themselves experts—gave us all sorts of suggestions.
“Take him to a special school.”
“He might have fluency or dysthymia issues.”
“Try this therapy, or that doctor.”
So, we went from one hospital to another, searching for answers. But in many places, the only thing they seemed truly interested in was our money. We left each visit feeling more defeated than the last.
Then one day, everything changed.
At Kenyatta National Hospital, we met a specialist who didn’t speak to us as just another case. He spoke to us as a parent. He looked at our son, then at us, and said something that opened our hearts:
“Do not take him to a special school. Take him to a normal school. He is a good kid. He just needs others.”
That one sentence became our turning point.
We enrolled our son at Rising Angels Star Academy, tucked along Outering Road. At first, we were nervous. Would he adjust? Would the teachers understand him?
Then we met Teacher Maureen, who was in charge of the playgroup. From the very first day, she embraced our son like her own. She didn’t treat him like a child who was behind — she treated him like a child with potential. Then came Teacher Anne, patient and understanding.
Every teacher at Rising Angels Star understood him. Every teacher cared. They were patient. Kind. Encouraging. They didn’t rush him, but they never gave up on him either. From the School Director, to the Headteacher, to the Deputy Headteacher, my son found a home with lots of friends.
Today, our son is in Grade 1.
He speaks.
He constructs full sentences.
He plays.
He’s curious.
He’s happy.
He’s thriving.
Looking back, I realize that sometimes children don’t need fixing — they just need love, patience, and a little faith. And sometimes, the silence we fear is only waiting for the right moment to bloom into words
Related Content: Here’s How You Can You Save For Retirement And Your Child’s Education
