When Nashon Pkiach lines up for the 800 metres at the World Under-20 Championships in Oregon, he will experience two firsts simultaneously: his debut on the international stage and his first-ever flight on an aeroplane. It is the kind of detail that transforms a sporting achievement into something closer to a parable about talent, persistence, and the distances that still separate rural Kenya from the rest of the world.
“I still cannot believe that I won. My heart is still beating fast,” Pkiach said after securing his place on the national team, his words carrying the weight of a journey that began not on a professional track but in the forests near his home in West Pokot County, one of Kenya’s most remote and underserved regions.
During his early secondary school years, Pkiach’s training bore no resemblance to the structured programmes enjoyed by athletes in Kenya’s established running institutions. As a day scholar, he worked during the mornings and headed into the forest by two in the afternoon. His gym was the canopy above him. His weights were tree stumps, which he would pull and drag as improvised resistance training.
“I used to pull tree stumps as part of training. Sometimes when I think about it, I cannot believe I have achieved all this. I was the only one training in our village,” he recalled.
His early competitive career was marked by experimentation. He began in the 200 metres, progressed through sub-county, county, and regional competitions, and eventually reached the nationals, where he finished third. He shifted to the 400 metres, ran relays, and dabbled in the 800 metres, searching for the event that would best harness his abilities. By Form Three, the 400 metres seemed to be his calling, but one person saw something different.
Luke Saina, coach at Sang’alo Boys, had been watching Pkiach closely and believed the two-lap race could unlock a dimension of his talent that even the athlete himself did not recognise. “Earlier this year, I told him to focus on the 800m and leave the 400m, and he responded very well to the training,” Saina said. What impressed the coach was not just physical ability but character. “If you give him a training schedule, he ensures he completes it no matter how difficult it is. He is also very disciplined and responsible. Whenever I am away, he guides the rest of the athletes.”
The breakthrough came at the Kip Keino Classic Under-20 competition, where Pkiach finished third in the 800 metres with a time of 1:47.15. That performance convinced him to commit fully to the event. At the World Under-20 trials, after running 1:49 in the semi-finals and missing his target of 1:46, he refused to let disappointment define his campaign. In the final, he clocked 1:46.11 and won.
“Our target coming into the trials was 1:46, and he delivered. I believe with more training, he can improve to 1:45,” Saina said with measured confidence.
Pkiach’s story resonates because it defies the increasingly professionalised pipeline that produces most elite Kenyan runners. While athletes at established sports programmes benefit from structured coaching and facilities, Pkiach built himself from nothing, guided by instinct and a coach who recognised raw potential. His journey from a boy training alone in the forests of Chorwai Village to a national representative preparing to board his first flight is a reminder that athletic talent does not always announce itself in the places where people are looking.
As he prepares for Oregon, the question is no longer whether Pkiach belongs on the world stage. It is how many others like him remain undiscovered in the forests and villages of rural Kenya, training alone with whatever they can find, waiting for someone to notice.
Image Source: GHANAMMA