How My Son Started Talking Again After Months of Silence

I remember the first time Brian said, “Mama.” He was just over a year old, and it was like music to my ears. But what I did not know then is that a time would come when I would do anything just to hear that word again.

Brian was a happy, active boy. He used to sing along to cartoons, shout when playing with his cousins, and always asked questions that made us laugh. But something changed when he turned three. He stopped speaking completely. It wasn’t sudden like falling down. It was slow. First, he reduced his words, then mumbled a lot, and before we knew it, there was nothing. Just silence.

At first, we thought maybe it was just a phase. Children go through phases, don’t they? But weeks turned into months. We took him to several hospitals in Nairobi. Doctors ran tests. Some said it was trauma. Others suggested therapy. We tried everything. Speech therapy. Toys. Cartoons in English and Kiswahili. Nothing worked.

One day, as we sat in Kenyatta Hospital’s waiting bay, a woman who had overheard us talking leaned over and said, “Mama, there are other ways to help our children too. Not everything is solved in hospital.” I was confused. She wrote a number on a piece of paper and just said, “Try calling here. It helped me with my daughter.”

I kept that paper in my handbag for two weeks. I don’t know what I was afraid of. Maybe disappointment. But the night Brian wet the bed and didn’t even cry about it, I knew something was wrong. My child was just… shutting down. So I took my phone and sent a text. It said, “Hello, my son is 3 years old and he has not spoken in months. Please help us.” That’s all. A simple cry for help.

The next day I got a reply. We had a short call, and I was asked to explain more about Brian’s past. When he started speaking. When he stopped. What kind of dreams he had. If he was afraid of anything. Then, I was guided through a few steps. There was a small herbal mixture I was told to prepare, and I was given prayers to say in the morning and at night while holding Brian close. There was also a cleansing bath I had to give him just once.

The first night, I did not expect anything. But Brian slept better than he had in weeks. No restlessness. No midnight screams. On the third day, I was making tea in the kitchen and heard a small voice behind me say, “Mama, chai.”

I froze. I thought I imagined it. But he was there, smiling. I cried. I dropped the cup I was holding. I picked him up and just cried. That day he said three words. By the end of the week, he was back to short sentences.

It has been months now. Brian is fully back. In fact, sometimes I joke that he is trying to make up for the time he was quiet. He sings, laughs, asks questions, and plays with joy.

I never thought I would find help from a number written on torn paper. But here we are. That small step changed our lives.

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