Born in 1987 in Malawi, William grew up in a village with no electricity or running water, and in a family that barely survived on the food it grew with a little left over to pay for school. After a terrible drought in 2001, William had to drop out of school because his family could no longer afford his school fees. He kept educating himself by going to the library and reading everything he could. One day, he found a book on windmills and determined he'd build one. So he did. Starting with scrap parts he found in light bulbs and radios. William built the first windmill he or his village had ever seen. And it worked, generating electricity for his family and his neighbors.Williamkamkwamba.com
If we go down the rabbit hole of our unconsciousness and try to unravel the knotty points of our life story we may encounter a bunch of hidden niceties or emotional stowaways. Forgotten details in the windmill of our mind may daintily reveal, where things might have gone wrong. (“I wonder what went wrong.”)
Not enough youths fighting windmills. And the old are fearful, jaded or dead. Do not ask me what to do. I am just as cowardly as you. And do not tell me it is enough to speak the truth; that it is bravery enough. Every mountain leveled to the ground, every forest burned, every man, woman, and child who lost their shanties to arsonist fires were defended to the heavens—with words.