Early life & family
I was born on 11th November 1993 in Kitale, Trans-Nzoia County.
I was raised by my late father, Desterio Maelo, and my mother,
Joyce Maelo, who is still with us today. I come from a large
family — about 49 children from three mothers — and growing up
in poverty shaped everything I would become.
Education against the odds
I joined Kabuyefwe Primary School, and later joined
Kamsinga Boys for my secondary education after emerging among the
top three students in the district. In 2013, I joined the
University of Nairobi to pursue Special Education, and was later
awarded a Second Class Honours degree.
But the truth is, I could not have reached that level on my own. Because of the
poverty at home and the size of our family, it was well-wishers
who stepped in — many people contributed to make sure I could attain that
education. That lesson stayed with me: that when people come together, they can
carry someone forward who could never make it alone.
Hustling in Nairobi
After university, I hustled hard in Nairobi. I was trying to help my mother, who
was struggling in poverty, raising my siblings in a mud house in
the village. And it wasn't just my own family — I was also trying to support some
of my neighbours in the village whenever I could.
A mother's sacrifice
Around 2019, I shared with my mother my vision of moving further
to Mombasa to help others who couldn't afford education. My
mother, who was a small-scale farmer, accepted and prayed for me. When I left home
for Mombasa, the fare my mother raised for me came from selling sweet
potatoes — she raised 3,000 Kenyan shillings to enable
me to travel.
Arriving in Mombasa
I arrived in Mombasa stranded. I did not know where I was going to live or how to
start a new life in a new town. I chose to walk around town and share my hardship
story, hoping someone would hear me or understand me. But people misunderstood me.
Some thought I was a thief. Others thought I was a beggar.
By good luck, I met a private security guard at Mama Ngina Grounds.
His name was Joel, and he lived at Likoni Ferry.
He was the one who gave me a place to stay — a small store where he used to keep
his charcoal. That small room became my first home in Mombasa.
The news from home
One month later, I received devastating news. The mud house where my mother lived
had collapsed at night. My mother was badly wounded and taken to
hospital in critical condition. I needed to travel back home to Kitale — about
990 kilometres away — but I could not manage to return. I could
not even see my mother in that condition.
That moment broke something in me — but it also lit a fire. I had seen what
poverty does to a family. I had experienced what it means to have nothing and no
one. And I had learned what a single act of kindness can do — like a security
guard offering a charcoal store to a stranger.
The vision takes root
That fire became the vision for Eagle Wings Lighthouse Academy.
If well-wishers could carry me through school, then I could become a well-wisher
for others. If one man could give me shelter when I was stranded, then I could
build a place where children could find safety, learning and hope.
And then I met Bella — a newborn girl who had been dumped in a
sack bag, just a few days old — and
her story became the spark that turned the vision into action. What began with one
child grew into a school that now serves dozens of learners from all backgrounds,
on a brand-new campus built by partners who believed in that same vision.
This is why we do what we do. Not because it is easy, but because
we know what it means to have someone believe in you when you have nothing.