When she was 10, Anastacia Kimtai, a village girl from Kabianga, Kericho walked into the National Bank in Kisumu holding her father’s hand. She wore her long floral Sunday dress, ironed to within an inch of its fabric life.
Never having been to any town bigger than Kericho, she was astonished by all the officious hubbub of the banking hall, of the men in suits, ties, and crisp white shirts. “They look like angels,” she gasped. When she immediately declared that she wanted to be a banker, her father chuckled and asked, “You mean you want to marry a banker?” She looked at him and said, “No, I want to be a banker.”
