Kibera

On Monday I had the opportunity to meet Kristin’s friend Fred who helps run the Joy Divine Children’s Organization, a boys’ orphanage in Nairobi. He and his friend Kevin picked up Sara, Kristin, and I, and we made the drive into Nairobi to visit both the orphanage as well as Kibera – the largest slum in East Africa. Though the most recent census results aren’t available, people estimate its population is well over one million. Fred introduced us to Beatrice, a woman who is a part of a network between orphanages and schools within the slum, and she was gracious enough to show us three of them.

The environment throughout Kibera was something that’s difficult to describe; even with pictures. We wound around a maze of dirt roads with tin, mud, and lean-to “buildings” lined up along the narrow alleyways. Dogs picked through piles of trash lining any free space, and there seemed to be people everywhere.

The first school we stopped at was a two-story structure with wooden ladders leading up to additional classrooms and bedrooms. It was started by one woman who took in two orphaned babies she’d found on the street. Eventually there were more children, and there was a realization that they needed some form of education if they were to have any hope. But as with most people living in Kibera, few have access to government schooling. Though it’s “free”, parents are responsible to pay for books and uniforms, which don’t necessarily come at an affordable price. The school we were at – as well as the others we visited – was an informal school. They aren’t government funded, or even official schools, but they follow the Kenyan curriculum in hopes that students may be able to test into high school.

When we arrived, the children were having their lunch break. They were all served beans and maize (ugali is given each day for dinner). Besides finding the funding for food and basic medicines, we were told that one of the greatest challenges the group faces is holding on to staff members. They are paid little, if anything… so if they do come through as volunteers, many don’t stay more than a matter of months or a few years.

This particular school is serving over three hundred students. They had kids sleeping on three-tier bunk beds with four or five of them sharing one twin-sized mattress. It was incredible to see the sheer mass of need these people have. They were hoping for any kind of help – pencils, school supplies, medicines, anything.

The second school we saw was constructed of mud and wood structures with a second story where many of them slept on mats with one or two blankets on them. The rooms were tiny, and the entire place had a particular stench that took a little bit of getting used to. But like everywhere else we visited, the kids were shy yet happy to see us. Excited, they greeted our hellos with “habati!”

The last informal institution we saw was the largest. With classrooms in colorfully painted containers, it had 450 students on-site (with 13 staff members), and the headmaster kept stressing that there were more who wanted to come, but there was simply no more space.

The whole scene was overwhelming. It’s difficult to even comprehend how many people are living in the conditions we were seeing. Few if any of them have access to clean water, and crime and violence is a major issue. Government housing is being built around parts of the slum’s perimeter in an effort to keep it from expanding farther while providing better living environments, but we were told that many people who move into the housing aren’t used to the style of living and end up back in the slums where they grew up.

It’s hard to imagine a change to a problem so big – the idea of finding a sustainable means of help that would truly make a difference seems nearly impossible. Yet that’s the key. These people really do need help, but they’re in need of more than just school supplies here or there or some trash clean-up crews. I really believe organizations like these informal schools are offering hope for something more in the future.

Once we were finished in Kibera, we headed to Joy Divine, the orphanage Fred is connected with. The set up is quite a bit different than Into Abbas Arms, with ten or so more kids and all of them boys – with the youngest being six years old. It’s a two-story building set up with three staff workers who take care of the laundry, cooking, and housework. Before we headed out, Fred and his mother (the orphanage’s founder) were gracious enough to serve us a delicious meal of stew, greens, and chipati – my favorite!

Back here at IAA, the weather seems to be getting a little colder as each day goes on. (At night, Sara, Kristin, and I have a good time gearing up with layers of socks and long sleeves under our pile of blankets on each of our beds.) The other day, Anne taught a few of us to do laundry by hand, though it was inconvenient that it started raining that afternoon so we all made the mad dash outside to collect as much as we could from the lines before they were completely soaked.

One of my favorite places to be during the day is the “upper” kitchen, where all the Kenyans cook for the staff as well as the older kids. There’s nearly always something to be doing - whether it’s washing dishes, cleaning, chopping, or sorting some type of bean, potato, carrot, or cabbage. And with all the cooking going on, its also one of the warmest places on site, which is a definite bonus! All the women who work here come in and out between their jobs throughout the day, and though I definitely can’t understand the conversations they have among themselves, I love the environment. They are so happy to be doing what they’re doing, they’re relaxed, and some of the sweetest, most friendly people I’ve ever met. This is something I’ve been fortunate to witness often throughout Kenya. People are so happy to have what they’re given, and both here and at the slums, they praise God for what they have and use every effort to give all that they can to make a difference in so many kids’ lives. And much of what they’re doing is hard work. Like Lydia told me today while we were mopping, Kenyans do everything with their hands.

When the older kids are around in the evenings, I’m still loving providing some homework help, or just a fun chat if need be. Last night I was helping Sheilah (a sixth grader and the oldest girl living here on site) out with some of her math homework, and when we finished she took it upon herself to give me some homework to do myself. I now have a list of twenty or so words in Kiswahili with a little note at the bottom, “you have to know all these words”. I’m sure she’ll be checking up on my progress.