By Enock Matara
Teacher Daniel Mutai (in red) hands over a wheelchair to a young pupil in need, as fellow students look on with joy and support.
In the quiet morning light at Bomet Township Primary School, Daniel Mutai watched a small boy struggle to crawl across the dusty schoolyard. His knees were bruised, his hands also bruised from the hard ground. While other children moved about laughing and playing, this boy fought to get to class. That moment, Mutai says, changed his life. It wasn’t pity that moved him it was purpose, an urge arose and he felt the responsibility to help the boy.
Daniel Mutai is not a wealthy man. He grew up in poverty, doing manual jobs to fund his education breaking stones and selling firewood just to afford books and school fees. The hardships of his childhood gave him something no money could buy, empathy, a virtue that not many people possess this day. “I know what it feels like to be helpless,” he says. “That’s why I cannot walk away when I see someone else struggling.”
In 2007, as a newly employed teacher, Mutai met his first disabled student a boy whose wheelchair was falling apart. The school had no funds for a replacement, and the boy’s family couldn’t afford one. Without hesitation, Mutai out of his own pocket, bought a new wheelchair. That single act of kindness became the seed of a lifelong mission.
Over the years, he has donated more than 100 mobility aids wheelchairs, crutches, walking frames, and white canes to children and adults across the country. From Bomet to Narok, Kisii to Turkana, he has traveled by public transport, on foot, and on borrowed motorcycles to deliver these life changing gifts.
Some cases stay with him forever. He remembers a visit to Turkana where he met a boy who crawled over 3 kilometers to school every day, his knees raw from the rocks. A neighbor girl would carry him part of the way, but the rest he endured all on his own. “When I saw him,” Mutai says, “I broke down. No child should suffer like that just to learn.”
Mutai doesn’t have sponsors or a foundation with deep pockets at least not yet. He funds most of the work himself, sometimes taking small loans or asking friends for help. “There are days when I don’t have enough for my own family,” he admits, “but I still try to help someone else’s child.” His wife and children support his mission fully, even when it means tighter budgets at home. “They understand that the reward is bigger than money,” he smiles. “It’s in the joy on a child’s face when they sit in a wheelchair for the first time.”
Mutai’s selfless acts have started to gain attention. Local leaders in Bomet have recognized him. The Teachers Service Commission recently commended his work and offered him flexibility in his schedule to allow him to travel more for deliveries. He has also registered a community based organization to attract funding and expand his reach. He has a dream to build a mobility aid center in Bomet, where families from across the Rift Valley can come for free assistance, mobility devices and therapy. “I am just a teacher,” he says. “But I believe every teacher has a role beyond the classroom. We teach by what we do, not just what we say.
When asked of the story making headline of Teacher/Activist Albert Ojwang, he felt that a life cut short especially that of a teacher who shapes and prepares people for the real world was worrying. “life is sacred and should be respected irrespective of the person.” Mutai said.
In a society where disability often comes with stigma, shame, and isolation, Daniel Mutai is building bridges with wheels, one child at a time. He’s not a politician, not a celebrity just a man with a kind heart, strong hands, and an unshakable belief that every child deserves a chance to stand tall.
The boy who crawled into school now moves freely on his new wheels, laughing like other children, learning with dignity. And that, Mutai says, is enough to keep him going.
In Kenya, where stories of corruption and hardship dominate the headlines, Daniel Mutai is proof that true heroes still walk and sometimes, live among us. Indeed, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.