Leaving Zion

My days in Kenya, for now, have come to an end. I write this with sadness, though am happy to think about how I spent my time in Kenya: the friends I have made, the experiences I have had, the knowledge I obtained and the generosity and kindness emanating from countless souls. My last few weeks in Kenya were crazy busy as I was trying to wrap up projects and tie up loose ends before leaving the promised land. Though one cannot completely tie up loose ends as the work is continuous, Jah Works never ceases.

I spent my last weekend over at the Rasta farm in Maragua. I arrived on a Sunday and spent the whole day at the market with Ital Wandutu. Though there wasn't much movement in terms of sales, it was good to see the community interaction. I was also awarded the privilege of a drunk follower. He didn’t want to leave my side until he got paid. Apparently speaking more than one word to a foreigner provides ample reason for reward. Lucky for me, Ital Wandutu burned that fire (aka reemed him out). The next day we spent the day at the farm and transplanted avocado seedlings from the nursery to paper bags awaiting planting. The rains have now come to Maragua and we expect another fruitful season. I know they will continue to do good works - I will keep updating on my brothers progress ... onward and upward, from Kibera to Maragua to South Africa - good things are happening here.

Ital Wandutu

I should say a word or two about my close friend, Ras Githaka, founding member of Shiriki (though he wouldn't like it put that way). He was my first contact in Kenya and encouraged me to come out and volunteer. I have worked very closely with him over this last year, and he has been an immense source of information, knowledge and wisdom. In fact, he was always my go-to person should I have a crisis (in which there were a few) or needed quick advice. He was also with me in Kitui for the month I lived on the farm. If anyone wants to know anything about NGOs, agriculture, networking, Africa or African history, Ras Githaka is an encyclopedia of knowledge and one of the most articulate people I have known - thanks for all friend.

Ras Githaka on a treadle pump in Kitui

Next group: I wanted to spend substantial time with my women's group before leaving. They call themselves the Kibera Ladies. I tried to convince them to choose another name, but they could not be swayed, Kibera Ladies it is. Last post I talked about how we were brainstorming ideas for small business income generation. I was eager to get them started on a project before I left and in doing so, I probably rushed them too much. Teaching a group research and data gathering skills is not something that can be accomplished in a few short weeks. Nonetheless, there were three prevailing ideas that emanated positively with the group: making soap, making charcoal briquettes and owning a cereal shop. Making soap was the idea of member Rosinah. It is cheap to make soap, and you don’t need a lot of space for manufacturing. Unfortunately Rosinah did not gather the necessary information for the methodology needed for soap making before I left. Nonetheless, I have communicated with her since being home and the woman are making soap! The cereal store was another curious idea that group member Janet had. The downside to starting a cereal store is that it requires substantial capital start-up costs. I suggested to the group that they start on a cheaper business and once the funds are in place, to go forward with a cereal shop. They thought this was a good idea.

Lucy and Maureen

Now for the third idea: charcoal briquettes. I have long been interested in providing an environmentally friendly alternative to the charcoal that everyone uses for cooking in Kibera. The problem with charcoal is that it is destroying Kenya's forests and eco-systems as people chop down trees and burn them as a means for providing income. Most of this happens illegally and people chop down the trees, burn them, and sell them to middle men buyers who transport them to the major cities. There are many alternatives to charcoal, such as manufacturing charcoal briquettes using agricultural by-products. At the Toi market in Kibera, there is an abundance of agricultural waste that is thrown out. This ranges from rotten fruits, vegetables, banana peels, leaves, sugar cane, corn husks, etc... a goldmine! We found a kibanda (stall) to rent in Kibera, near Toi market, where the women could manufacture or sell whatever they desired and agricultural products were close on hand.

Toi Market

As I was eager to start making charcoal briquettes, me and Lucy, one of my members, spent a few hours digging and hunting through the garbage in Toi. Though not all the members were sold on digging through garbage to make charcoal briquettes, I did have a couple members who were on board. This must have looked a bit bizarre, a "muzungu" (white person) digging through the garbage at the biggest market in the slums. Luckily there was an abundance of sugarcane bagasse right on the surface which we collected and transported to our kibanda. We also managed to find people that were throwing out banana peels, so took a whole ghunia (sack) of that. We found furniture stores who sold us a ghunia of sawdust for one dollar. Dirty and tired, we had a nice assortment of bi-products to try out. Covered in Kibera garbage, I walked away tired, dirty, but satisfied.

I drew up a design of the type of machinery that was needed to make the briquettes to a local welder in Dagoretti. It involved making a hand-held cylinder with a removable lid that could be pounded by a hammer (or in my case a rock) to make a solid briquette. You put your products inside the cylinder and then pound the lid down on top of it to make a nice round briquette. I then went to our kibanda in Kibera to experiment on making briquettes using sawdust and rotten bananas and peels. As I worked away, my local Kibera community members came by to see what I was up to. One response I particularly remember was: "well muzungu - you are trying..." Not sure about the succeeding part, but trying I was.

The briquettes need a couple of weeks to dry before you can cook with them. Also, it is the rainy season at the moment, so drying may take even longer. Unfortunately I had to leave before we could try to cook with the briquettes, but I know the kibanda will be awaiting when I return. Another method that can be used to make briquettes involves burning sugarcane bagasse and corn husks using an oil drum strategically cut with small holes in the bottom and a big hole in the top. I researched the procedure and equipment needed for this project and went to my right hand man: Shuba, to see where I could obtain the supplies. There is a large market downtown where one can purchase oil drums - I went downtown, bought an oil drum, got it strapped to the roof of a Kibera matatu, and went to deliver the goods.

In Kibera I found a welder who was able to cut the holes and make a lid. Though we did not get to start burning before I left, I know the oil drum will be ready and waiting for me when I return. Additionally, the women can begin to experiment with burning the agricultural by-products at anytime to make a charcoal dust. (though I have doubts they will begin this process before my return). Nonetheless, I also managed to contact some different universities already engaged in this procedure with different groups in developing countries. They are willing to partner with us and I look forward to following through and working with them when I am back in Kenya. Here is a demonstration video that I found with a university in the US which I corresponded with. If interested in charcoal briquettes, check it out (cool video) :

As for Soweto academy, I was too scared to go back to that part of Kibera after being chased by gunpoint by the youth gang. They knew who I was and what I looked like and I know they were still looking for us. I figured if I needed to go back there I would bring some serious security with me. Nonetheless, I have made several contacts in Dagoretti who are willing to buy their water. Now it is up to them to follow through and maintain those customers. I would still like to keep looking for donors for the computer proposal back in Canada though - I think I need a bit of God's help to find the right sponsors on this one.

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Shuba and Purity

I am desperately going to miss some of the very flamboyant characters I have come to know and love. Walking through Dagoretti as matatus fly by, Shuba yells out: "Jah Will, get in...." Running and jumping inside the moving vehicle I hear a passenger say something something Mzungu. Always my defenders, the dagoretti youth burn fire "Yeye si mzungu!" (She is not a foreigner). The youth have told me "Jah Wil, your skin may be brown, but your heart is black." While there are obvious differences between my Kenyan brothers and sisters and me, Kenya has become HOME.

Speaking of flamboyant youths, here is a fun project I helped a local youth with. Jah Warrior, whom I have mentioned before, the aspiring artist and musician who is constantly painting, drawing, writing movie scripts and making music. I filmed a music video of him performing his song "bedroom gully" in Kawangware. The song is about the wealthy businessmen and politicians of Kenya who exploit the young women growing up in poverty. There is something surreal about filming music videos in the ghetto. As I was filming in this small little video rental studio with the song blaring in the background, people were walking by, children dancing as they heard the music, I remember thinking: is this real? Am I really here ... how PRIVILEDGED am I that I get to experience this complete other world. Thanks to JAH for providing the bridge. Anyways, this video still needs some editing, but here is a draft of his work.

To keep my foot in the Kenyan door, as I previously mentioned, I need to come up with some methods for generating income. One idea that I am investigating involves buying land. As urbanization increases at a rapid rate in Nairobi, so does the value of land. I am particularly interested in buying land close to Nairobi so that I can potentially live on the outskirts of the city and commute to the town. In addition, I am interested in agriculture and having a small farm. I was not able to buy land before I left, though am trying to maintain some of those contacts to buy land when I return.

In addition, we bought a matatu. Oh yes, those crazy Nissan vans pimped out to the nines with drivers chewing miraa (plant stimulant) and crazy conductors hanging out the door fighting eachother to convince one more passenger to come inside. Matatus are quite a cultural item in Nairobi, they blare music (usually reggae) often come equipped with a TV screen (in which music videos are playing) and sometimes have Christmas lights flashing on and off. I shall continue to report on how this initiative is going, or not going.

The day that I have been dreading, April 19th, came far too quickly. I remember sitting in a bus driving through Kibera with tears in my eyes. I see all these animated people, and the truth is, their lives are not easy, but still, there is such a spirit of energy and LIFE here. Yes, this is combined with burning garbage, sewage trenches, and as already mentioned, a high degree of danger, but also there is music, community, a sense of collective responsibility, and the most beautiful land and people one could ever hope to see.

Some of my Dagoretti youth

It was not fun packing up all my belongings to leave though I was overwhelmed and blessed by the number of people who stopped by or called to say goodbye. In fact, there was a crowd of about fifteen youth hanging out by the road outside my gate which included Jah Warrior, Rajab, Mjomba, Willy Wonder from my Seti CBO and many other youth I have gotten to know in Dago. This community has meant so much to me in these last 6 months, leaving... SUCKS.

After saying goodbye to Dagoretti, I head to Kibera to say goodbye to Costanzia, the Kibera Ladies and Shiriki. First thing, we meet Costanzia who has been patiently waiting for me at her kibanda. She gives me about 15 chapatis as she wants my entire family to try her chapatis. The generosity and sincerity of this beautiful women is overhwleming. Unfortunately, since being home, I have been able to communicate with everyone except for Costanzia, I have hope she is doing well and I will keep trying to get her.

Next stop: the rasta foundation. It is 8:30 pm and I walk into the Haile Selassie Foundation. Everyone is surprised to see me, they thought I had aleady left. Ras Benaiya, Ras Faya Ng'ang'a, Ras Maruri and Ras Makoau are all there. The thing about the Rasta livity that I love, is their complete awareness of being conscientious in every aspect of their life, they have taught me so much about meaningful living. Ras Benaiya walks me back to the road after saying my goodbyes. I have worked closely with him on many projects and he will be our Shiriki representative at the South Africa conference. Ras Benaiaya is fairly small in stature but speaks with incredible authority, truth and burning fire.

Ras Benaiaya, Sara and ME (with head covered)

Final stop, my women's group. This group was a tough one to leave because they have barely gotten started. I constantly kept thinking, how can I leave these women? Nonetheless, they will be okay without me. And, since being home, we have managed to stay in touch, Rosinah keeps me updated on their progress. I am praying for them, I will continue to encourage them, and when I return, will be a present source of support for them should they need it! (I wish I had some better pictures of them, but unfortunately my camera broke my last month in Kenya).

I never would have thought I could have had the experiences that I have had. This year has been a crazy amazing ride - and is not over. Though I am back in Canada now, I know I will be returning to Zion. And when I do, I will be there to stay.

Youth Gangs

Idle youth, minimal education and lack of government policies make for a strong brew of illicit activities. Thus far, I have mainly posted about all the positive choices the youth of Kenya are making. They are forming co-operatives, NGOs and self-help groups, working to uplift the community. However, there is certainly another side to the coin of youth choices in Kenya. In Kibera and Dandorra, there are networks and networks of gangs which circulate around theft, murder, armed robbery, drug addiction and weapons trading. I have never felt unsafe walking through the ghettos, never felt worried, never recognized that indeed, dangerous does exist here.

I was walking down to Kibera to collect some water samples that I was preparing to distribute around Dagoretti corner. I brought Shuba along with me to help carry some water. We were walking the scenic backroads down behind the Nairobi show grounds. Soweto Academy is located in the Soweto area of Kibera, and is right on the outskirts of Kibera where the slum ends and Ngong forest begins. Having walked this route several times before, I proposed we take the back road into Soweto. The back road is made up of dirt roads where cars pass and apartments are constructed, a place that was allegedly reported to be dangerous. However, there were women collecting firewood, children passing through, men carrying water jugs. It was a beautiful day and I was practicing my Swahili as we walked and talked down to the school, I felt safe.

The back road dividing Ngong road from Kibera

Out of nowhere I look up and the next thing I see there are 4 youth men surrounding us with guns. Right before he spoke, the leader cocks the gun, bullets are visible: “get down! Get down!” Shuba knows exactly what is going on and gets on the ground first, I follow. The men are speaking fast and excitedly in Cheng “where’s the money, where’s the money?” Unfortunately, I had only brought 50 shillings (about seventy five cents), and immediately regretted that I didn’t have more money to appease our robbers. They went through each and every pocket looking for money “where is it, where is it?” Looking into their eyes, it was evident they had taken substantial drugs. They stepped on Shuba’s back so he couldn’t move and checked all his pockets also. Not satisfied with a mere 50 shillings, they took my backpack and left us sitting there by the road. I breathed a big sigh of relief.

Should we run out of here? They took my phone and my keys. Shuba told me they would drop my keys, and we could pick them up as soon as they had walked a considerable distance away. After waiting a few minutes, we went back to the road so I could pick up my keys, which sure enough, were waiting in the dirt. Still shaky, we begin walking away from the back road towards Kibera. Thank God they didn’t do anything else to us. Here, there are no limits to what youth gangs, high on drugs, conscience compromised, will do.  

We start walking back to Kibera. I look behind me and spot four young men. “Are those the same four youth?” There were four men quickly coming down to the hill towards us.  “Yes, just keep walking, don’t run…” so we walk trying to maintain calm, I look back again and the youth are now running towards us. Shuba grabs my hand and yells “we go, Jahwil, we go!” I lose my sandals and attempt to keep up with Shuba who has a death grip on my wrist. We are running flat out down hill through bumpy rocky dirt roads. I knew I couldn’t keep balance and thought that if I fall, they will surely catch me. Too late, I fall and roll hard. Shuba picks me up, grabs my hand “we go, we go”. Again, running downhill, full-out, with one hand being pulled by a super fit Kenyan youth, I lose my balance and fall again hard. This time we have reached the bottom of the hill. Shuba stops, sees me on the ground, comes back to pick me up and we run. Barefoot, we reach the base of the slums. We hear shouting in Cheng behind us. The translation “Now its your turn, first we are going to deal with you (Shuba) and then we will get to her, now you are not going to get off so easy, this time we are going to do bad things”. Luckily I couldn’t understand what they were saying at the time.

Outskirts of Kibera

The people on the outskirts of Kibera have seen what is going on and are scared. Everyone looks wild eyed as we pass them. They run inside their houses and close the doors. I can sense their fear and how powerless these people feel. We hear someone yelling behind us “you can stop now, they are not coming after you”. Shuba looks behind, they are just trying to trick us, they are still coming, running, guns in the air. My clear headed friend takes us through a labyrinth of slum houses and trenches. Both my feet are bleeding and as I run I step in dirty sewage, though I don’t care, I am scared. “Can we hide somewhere” snaking in and out alleys and trenches, Shuba telling me “don’t stop”. He later explains to me that if you try to hide, they will find you in someone’s house and they will be able to do whatever they want with you. Also, you can’t run straight as these gangs are known to shoot, you must zigzag until you are out of danger. Looking back, the youth are no longer within our sight. Thank God, we make it up to Kibera drive, the main road in Kibera.

My feeling is that the immediate danger has passed; nonetheless, we are not about to stick around long enough to know if the gang was still looking for us. Both of us are coughing hard after that extreme burst of activity. The lungs don’t know what hit them and I am wheezing and sweating, and feel the pain of my sprained hip and scratched up feet. Limping, barefoot, covered in dirt and blood, we walk out of Kibera. Now that the danger has passed, concerned citizens are inquiring as to what happened “what is wrong? You are hurt? Let us help you”. Shuba brushes them off, we are fine, Jahwil, let’s get out of here.

I don’t feel safe until we hit the main road ‘Ngong road’ and I see the abundance of cars and even police (whom I don’t normally care for, but am grateful for now). After a long walk back, we finally make it to Dagoretti. Walking through the doors of my house, we tell my roommate, Mai, what had happened. She takes care of us for the rest of the afternoon. We clean-up and though I am incredibly sore, I am incredibly incredibly THANKFUL. Thankful for this opportunity to be in Kenya, for my friends and family, for Shuba who saved me that day, thankful for LIFE.

April has come

I am wishing everyone a thoughtful Easter weekend this year. In Kenya, the churches have been celebrating since Friday morning. You can hear them worshiping from the early morning way into the night. The church in Kenya is big business. In fact, for individuals who have no means of supporting themselves, some will write sermons and then deliver them on the buses. People will pay 10 - 50 shillings after the sermon has commenced and the bus preacher can move on to another vehicle. I always find it somewhat amusing that one can be a preacher hustler. That aside, whatever your faith or religion is, there is great value in taking some time and recognizing the creator, respecting life, respecting the great fortunes you have in being born in this world, and accepting the huge responsibility that each person has been given.

I am very excited to report that my Satelite group: Kush-Ites Family is now a fully registered CBO (Community Based Organization). There were several layers of bureacracy we had to wade through in order to achieve this goal. It involved writing up a constitution, establishing a mandate, holding an election, and running around from office building to office building to get permission from the Chief and the District Officer. I spent many mornings waiting in long line-ups to talk to the Chief. When I finally got the chance to speak with the Chief, I was, thankfully, full prepared. I had all the documents and details that we needed to register. I met him with the Chairman of our CBO, Joseph Maina, and we diligently explained what the CBO was setting out to accomplish. The Chief was looking for a bribe and was trying to make us look bad. This is how our conversatin went:

You must have three copies of the members list
Yep, we do
Well you can't just register, you need meeting minutes and a Constitution
Yes, we have it here
You need to get an application form
Yes, it is right here
Well.... you need to go and buy some folders for us to store it in
..... Right

We spoke to the Chief on Friday who told us to come back on Monday so that he could review the Constitution. ... Right. Anyways, on Monday we returned with folders in hand, only to find out that our original copies, that we had left with the Chief, were misplaced. Several hours later - they were found and away we went to he Ministry of Social Services to send in all our documents for registration. Fastforward two weeks: we received our certificate and are a fully registered Dagoretti CBO. We are now undergoing research to establish some income generating ideas. We have discussed and looked into various businesses such as: Building and renting out trappers (forms for building), outside catering (tents, speakers, etc...), garbage collection, car wash, restaurant, chicken/goat/guinea pig rearing, charcoal businesses, among others. We have yet to come up with an idea that we want to follow through on, but the research and ideas keep coming each week. There is a saying in Swahili: Subira kuvute heri. Patience brings success. Of course, at some point patience turns to stagnation, and nothing gets accomplished.

While I am never short on things to do, a new project has emerged. A project that I just couldn't say no to. I was walking through Kibera and stopped to buy some sakuma from a mama selling from her kibanda along the main drive. Being a mzungu (foreigner), I regularly hear pleas for assistance. This particular mama told me she had a daughter who had finished Form 4 (Highschool), but had no job, no opportunities, and needed some help. She asked if I could help her daughter out. I told her that I would be back tomorrow, and to bring her daughter so that we could talk. Sure enough, the next day, her daughter (Lucy) is waiting for me at her mom's kibanda. I tell Lucy that if she is serious about doing something, she should bring 5 friends together and we could pool our resources and discuss some options. We decided to meet the following week.

Lucy (foreground) and Mwendi (background)

I made up a members form to get the girls contact information, interests, abilities, skills, and limitations. I handed the forms out at our meeting, and sure enough, there were 5 young women (all young mothers) eager and willing to do SOMETHING. At that first meeting, it was revealed that the women were interested in forming a self-help group. A self-help group is a formally registered group in Kenya whereby its members work together to help one another out. We are now working on registering the group, we are short 3 members for registration (total members is now 7). We have already written our Constitution and have established regular meetings and weekly dues. Once we find three more members who are serious and willing to join the group, we will start the bureacratic process of meeting Kibera's Chief and ministry offices. We have also come up with a number of income generating ideas. The women have been diligent in doing their business research and we have struck many businesses off the list that are not looking profitable. Currently we are looking into three ideas: making charcoal briquettes, opening a cereal shop, making and selling soap. In fact, this morning, I am heading out to Karioko market to see how feasible it will be to make charcoal briquettes.

At Lucy's house in Kibera (our meeting place is a little cramped)

Though I have spent considerable time with my two community organizations (Kush-Ites and Kibera Ladies), I am still very much a member of Shiriki organization. In fact, I have some very exciting news to report. I previously mentioned that we had entered a blog competition about Youth in Agriculture. I found the blog competition online, and thought it would be an interesting way to record our progress, train staff on blog creation all the while sharing our ideas and methods with the world. The competition has now closed and though we didn't win, we were the runners up in East Africa!!! This means that they are going to pay for one of our members to travel down to South Africa to network about agriculture, meet other youth with similar mandates, and receive the runners up prize. Praises to the Most High... I am so excited about this outcome. It is always nice to see projects come to fruition. I am off to the Maragua farm this Easter weekend to see the progress that has been made there.


The water is running over at Soweto Academy. The water pump has now been fixed, and I have been helping Elsie market the water to different shops, stores and Health clubs in Nairobi. I have not spent too much time in marketing before, so this was new territory for me. However, I found it enjoyable to talk about Soweto Academy, and how the water profits go back into the Kibera community. I have signed up many new shops from my Dagoretti community with the HELP of several KUSH-ITES members who have taken me around, exhausting their connections in the Dago community.

Mama making mandazis Dago

For those of you who follow my updates, I know it must sound like I am involved with many different things. I have used this year as a time to scope things out, learn about the language, culture, lifestyle and challenges of living in Kenya. I have more that I wish to update, but this morning, I must get going. Wishing everyone many many blessings.

Reaching the summit

Mt Longonot summit

Sitting in a matatu at 8 o clock at night, waiting in traffic to get home, I get a text. I read: "usi sahau kuhusu kesho asabuhi" Translation: don't forget about tomorrow morning! Right, I promised one of my neighborhood youth, Shuba, that we would go hiking up Mt. Longonot tomorrow morning. Though in the moment I felt tired and my first reaction was to look for an excuse of why I couldn't go, upon failing to come up with one, I awoke early the next morning and had a fantastic day.

Shuba at the summit

Mt Longonot is a dormant volcano located in the Rift Valley. You can take public transportation from Nairobi to the village of Longonot, and then walk to the base of the Longonot National Park. It takes about one hour to reach the rim of the volcano (a very steep and gruelling hour). Add another hour to make it to the highest point of the volcanic ridge. Though we collapsed at the top, it was victory all the way. We continued along the 2 mile volcanic rim surrounded by butterflies. It was surprisingly cool, and though my muscles ached the next day, it was a much needed day away from the city.

Butterflies were everywhere

Me at the summit

My shoes have travelled the world with me, and though I know they are almost done, I can't bear to throw them away. I couldn't help but take a picture of the wear and tear. Sadly, they will not make the trip back to Canada.

Kenya has an abundance of beautiful women from the young children dancing in the streets, to the older mamas selling vegetables along every residential street. The vegetables taste so sweet, much more flavour than the ones back in Canada (sorry, but true). This is my favourite mama to buy vegetables from. My favourite meals to cook involve buying greens such as pumpkin leaves or sakumawiki (kale), etc... and cooking them up with tomatoes, carrots, garlic, ginger and any other locally available vegetables. Mix the following together, possibly add some beans or soy for protein, and walaa: the most delicious vegetable creations you can imagine.


There is a local dance class that I attend. Though the class targets children, anyone can attend and get involved in the enthusiasm that is African dance. This class takes place in Kibera and was organized by a phenomenol young woman named Anna. She is an 18 year old young mother of two raising her children alone (not uncommon in Nairobi). She is skilled with the drum, with dance and with song. Here is a video of the class that I shot last Saturday. Their vision involves buying uniforms and marketing themselves to perfrom at local events and shows. What they lack in resources, they make up for in enthusiasm, joy and talent!

I continue to work with the youth and am helping them start their own businesses. This last week I had the opportunity of spending considerable time with Costanzia, my beautiful young friend from Tanzania. Again, Costanzia is a young mother with a 2 year old daughter. She is raising her daughter by herself and ever since I have known her, has been engaged in work involving long hours (10 hours a day), hard work (cleaning, cooking, washing) and very low pay (ranging from 75 cents to $1.50 per day). After speaking with Costanzia at length, it was revealed that she would like to open up a cafe of her own. She has worked for other women at kiosks for years, and has the skills, abilities, customer relations and know how to start up her own business. This week we decided it was time to get this started. Costanzia found a kibanda to rent, we made a list, a budget, and bought all the necessary supplies.

Buying supplies for her restaurant

Costanzia's kibanda

 There is another young women I have become involved with. Her name is Francisca. Another single mother raising a 5 year old son on her own, and pregant with her second child. She has had many complications with this pregnancy, and fortunately, I have been able to help her with some of the necessary procedures. She is a skilled salonist, and though she is unable to work at the moment due to her troubled pregnancy, she is planning on getting back to work as soon as her baby has been born. She lives in the Kawangware slums.

Fransisca with her son and nephew

I have now shared a small glimpse into the lives three young women. All mothers, all raising their children on their own. This begs the question of why?  The young women that I know are intelligent, focused, hard-working and constantly planning for the future for themselves and their children. Yet, why is there this overwhelming pattern of young pregnancies, father abandonment, and single mothers living in poverty? The emergence of single mothers has become a social norm in Nairobi. One reason involves the under-use of contraceptives and the pressure placed on young women to prove their love to their boyfriends. Despite Kenya's extremely conservative outlook on pre-marital sex, the irony is that young pregnancies are prevalent everywhere. Further, while abortion is illegal in Kenya, this doesn't mean it doesn't happen. Instead, women undertake this dangerous procedure themselves removing their pregnancies and abandoning the fetus in one of Nairobi's garbage dump sites. The result of increased urbanization, and the subsequent weakening of traditions and customs combined with poverty has resulted in this occurrence.

Johnstone, the principle of Soweto Academy once said to me "There is one thing that African men are very good at: getting women pregnant and dissapearing." In addition, the young women always seem to speak about their children's estranged fathers as their husbands. Apparently there is this idea that they are "married". Though no documentation exists, nor is the father present, there is an overhwleming desire to be married, especially among the urban poor. I assume some discussion took place that the couple is married, the pregancy commences, the child is born, the man dissapears (presumably acquiring another "wife" elsewhere).

Nonetheless, the women remain responsible, positive and incredibly hard working to provide for their families. In fact, there are numerous microfinance organizations that primarily target women and women's groups. I have had several lengthy discussions with one microfinance organizations in particular called TUDEP (Tujikuze Development Program). This group provides loans to women who are part of a women's group. The loans are incredibly low interest, and works on a system of group accountability. In addition, they only provide loans to women. I talked with a credit officer who told me that the men, in general, are much less likely to pay back the loan then women. Interesting ... Microfinance is big business in Kenya, though one challenge remains. As small microfinance institutions grow, they are struggling to find the capital necessary for company expansion.

Soweto Academy continues to push onwards and upwards. I am anxiously awaiting response from the Safaricom Foundation to hear whether or not the computer project will be funded. I was told three weeks ago that I would receive a response. How wonderful would it be to begin teaching ICT to these young women. I would love to be able to volunteer my skills and expertise in the computer classes as well. Alas, it is in God's hands. As for the water bottling company, the focus has changed from obtaining external funding to marketing the water. Great, I spend too much time at my computer already, let's get out there and sell some water! I have offered my assistance for this endeavor and have added two new clients to Soweto's roster. Hopefully by my next post we will have added many more.

Shiriki organization is also doing great. Through hard work, know-how, and community help, they have begun the construction of a well on-site. In addition, the harvest continues in Maragua and fresh maize, cowpeas, beans and soya have been ripe for the picking. There is nothing as good as nourishing on your home-grown fruits, vegetables and grains. In addition, we have been sending out a funding proposal to obtain machinery, materials and a workshop for the shoe industry. While resources continues to be a challenge, and the shutting down of the music studio was hard felt, everyone continues working together to uplift the urban and rural communities.

While I commonly write about my experiences from a very positive standpoint, there are harsh realities that Kenya's communities face on a daily basis that I struggle with. Substance abuse is an enormous problem among Nairobi's youth. One of my favourite Dagoretti youth is a regular drug addict. He used to be a Dj and constantly talks in Dj mode "Sista Joelle, mzuri SANA, Blessed Love, Blessed Love, Mzuri SANA". My first impression of him was judgemental and somewhat annoyed. Yet, I have seen this young man perform incredible acts of kindness that made me think of the good samaritan. Another youth-man was badly beaten up and left on the side of the road a couple weeks back. While everyone simply walked over, around or beside him, this guy picked him up, brought him to shelter, nursed his wounds, and brought him food and water. 

I have heard stories about friends shot down by police or local gangs, yet I have only seen a glimpse of this brutality. I listen to their stories, but have no idea what life must be like for them. I can see how real the trauma is, and how difficult it is to talk about. During the post-election violence of 2007, these youth have witnessed and experienced atrocities. Here is a story I was told:

During the post-election violence I never went out at at night, and had to be extremely careful during the day. It would be better to stay underground all the time, but we needed to find food, so didn't have a choice but to emerge and hustle on the streets. I was walking with my friend when members of the Mungiki called out to us. "What's your name?" "Who are you?" I knew they would recognize our tribe from our names, so I took off running. My friend froze in his tracks, and when I looked back to locate him, I saw him kneeling down in front of them. Using machetes they cut off both his hands. I stood in horror and couldn't watch them finish him off. I froze in shock until I realized they were now running after me. Sprinting hard through the streets of the slums I blindly ran into a dead end. I was cornered against tin shack buildings and the river of sewage 20 feet below. With no where else to turn, I jumped, straight into the sewage. Thanks be to Jah my life was spared that day, though I had to immerse myself in the rivers of human waste, none of the Mungiki jumped after me and I managed to get home to see another day.

I walk through the slums each day, and tolerate the sewage trenches, human waste, sick children, and young prositutes. I see the young mothers struggling to feed their families and turning to prostitution as a means of survival. I empathize, but at the end of the day, I get to go home to my safe, clean, secure apartment. I have a warm bed, food, and a comparitively large bank account. They don't have these luxuries. While I believe I have bridged some sort of a divide by forging meaningful relationships with individuals and organizations from a very different walk of life than mine, I know that we are not the same. Their challenges are not my challenges, their trials are far harsher than my trials, and when they fall, they often fall hard with no one to pick them up. As horrible as it sounds, I can see survival of the fittest taking place before my eyes. Truly, these young men and women are warriors, yet I have seen some of the brightest lights emerge through their lives. It reminds me of a quote I was told yesterday by another street warrior: In every person's soul is the image of God waiting to be seen.

Gaining momentum

My Kenyan experience has changed a great deal from when I first arrived until now. Before leaving for Kenya, I was linked into one organization, Shiriki, and was told that I would be most useful in the rural area of Kitui. If you have followed my blog since the beginning, you know that while I did live out in Kitui for some time, I have spent most of my time in Nairobi. This is of no surprise, as even before I left the northwest, I felt that I wanted to be working with youth in the city’s slums. For some reason, I felt a strong pull in that area. Perhaps it is a calling, OR more likely it is curiosity, fascination with Hollywood’s glamorization of ghetto life, or simply my reservations of leaving behind the comforts of the city (aka hot showers, modern kitchens, tile floors). Either way, I love the hustle and bustle of the city and though there are many downsides, I feel truly content here. This update is a little bit long, so get ready to read!

One thing about cities that has always drawn my attention is city art. Not the type of art you see hung up in art galleries (though I appreciate that too), but the kind of art innovations that occur when people turn trash into something magnificent. This is what I love about Nairobi and the colorful characters that dwell here. Jah Warrior, a young man of 25 years (pictured above), born and raised in the ghetto. While attending high school he was living and sleeping on the street, and eating from the garbage. How, he is a well-known local artist who paints on virtually any medium, writes music and sings at different venues in Nairobi. Though he is still struggling to get by, he maintains an incredibly positive outlook. He has a 2 year old son that he is raising by himself. I am assisting him by helping make a short film about ghetto living. I will post it here when it is complete.

Reading the screenplay for the short film

What update would be complete without mentioning our fine Nairobi police? After filming some night scenes in the fine housing the Kenyan government provides to the citizens of Kawangware, Jah Warrior and Nightsake (an actor in the movie) thoughtfully walk me home. No problem, I arrived home safe and sound, bid farewell and promptly go to sleep. An hour or so passes, and my phone begins ringing. Not uncommon. I ignore the phone, go back to sleep. The phone rings again. Again I ignore. The phone rings a third time and the responsible side of me answers this time. A panicked voice: “Jahwil, they have arrested us, we weren’t doing anything, please come, please come down here”. It is midnight and though I know they will not be released at night, I make my way down to the police station to find out what the charges were. Funny thing, the officer is reluctant to tell me their charges. I go back the next morning bringing a full grocery bag of breakfast for the youth. They are temporarily let out of the holding cell (filled to the brim I might add), and they sit beside me on the bunch. Jah Warrior looks over at me and says the most profound statement “this place is shit”.  ABSOLUTELY. They describe the extremely unhygienic conditions in which they slept in, the room is riddled with lice, and the captive youth have not been given a drop of water. Needless to say, after speaking with the OCS, they are released. 

Indeed, never a dull moment in Nairobi. I love working with Kenya’s young population, listening to their stories, asking them about their talents, skills, strengths, and helping to connect them with ideas, resources and information. Over the last month I have helped several youth work towards obtaining a national ID. In Kenya, it is not possible to get a job in the formal economy without an ID. This is a big challenge for many of the street youth who don’t even know their own birthdays, let alone the information, documentation and confidence required to obtain an ID. As I have come to experience, several bureaucratic procedures must be taken before an ID is granted. These procedures include swearing an affidavit before the High Court, obtaining permission from the Chief, standing in long lines, and wading through the red tape. Despite my complaints, the mission has been a great success, IDs have been granted. The formerly unidentified are Kenyan nationals, ready to contribute to the country’s GDP! Well, we haven’t gotten there yet, but progress is being made.

Sammy (One of the youth I am helping to get formal licensing for matatu conducting)

I have also tried to help facilitate some of the youth to start up a small business by providing small loans and information support, though I did require explicit business plans inclusive with budgets (kind of). Anyways, one of the businesses involves the buying of clothes from Gikombe and selling in Dagoretti. Gikombe is the largest marketplace in Nairobi. Mass shipments of your graciously donated second hand clothing items get sent here where hawkers buy crates of unseen clothing which they unwrap, sort, and sell to the vendors. There is money to be made in the second hand clothing market, and if one hustles hard, knows how to find nice clothes, they can make some extra income. The other business loan was for a start-up hoteli in Kibera. The word hoteli is equivalent to the English word café. They are selling typical Kenyan food, working hard, and hoping to turn a profit. Thus far, I have received positive feedback about both businesses, the youth are learning a lot, and though the work is hard, there seems to be a sense of pride in running their own ventures.

Hoteli in Kibera

Though you can sense my enthusiasm in the work I am doing with the youth, I have not forgotten about my two organizations: Shiriki and Soweto Academy. I continue to collaborate, share ideas, hunt for proposals and share in collective discourse with the other Shiriki volunteers. We are still awaiting information on our status in the youth in agriculture blog competition. I have largely passed over the reins in terms of updating the website and the blog to other members of the organization, though I still update and edit as well. On an unfortunate note, due to beefed up security in our country’s capital (triggered by the Al Shabab attacks and election year), the place where the music department operated complete with studio has been shut down. The Kenyan police have ousted the building from public use and we unfortunately need to find another venue for the music works. This has come as a big disappointment for the hard working musicians within Shiriki, though I know there is another plan in store for them, onwards and upwards, though it may take some time for the plan to unfold. The agriculture initiative continues in Maragua: http://shirikiorganization.blogspot.com/ and I am planning to visit the farm again in the near future.

 I also had the opportunity of touring around Dandorra with one of the Shiriki members, Ras Ambassa. I have long been interested in garbage collection due to the immense need present throughout Kibera, Dagoretti and nearly all, but the upscale neighborhoods of Nairobi. What I found there was far from pleasant, progressive, or even humane. Dandorra is Nairobi’s garbage dumping site. No one bothered to dig a landfill here; instead, the garbage is dumped on what was once a beautiful greenscape in Nairobi. Unfortunately, it also houses more than 1 million people. There are no regulations enforced to safely dispose of toxic waste and hazardous materials. In fact, 10% of the population (including children) make an income wading through this garbage. Life expectancy, unsurprisingly but very sadly, in Dandorra is around 45 years. As soon as I alighted from the matatu, the overwhelming smell of garbage permeated the atmosphere. The temperature tipped 30 degrees and there was no escape. Fortunately for me, in a couple hours I was out of there. However, there is no escape for the residents of Dandorra, the hotter the heat, the more toxic the air. Respiratory diseases, cancer, tumours and typhoid are commonplace. 

Nairobi has over four million inhabitants and just one dumping site. There is no legal framework for solid waste management and disposal. More than 2,000 tons of rubbish is dumped in Dandora every day. Dandora covers 30 acres and is located in the center of a poor residential area. It has been there for thirty years. In 2001 it was declared to be at full capacity and a health hazard to the neighbouring population. Chemical, Hospital, Industrial, Agricultural, Urban and Domestic Waste is dumped and left unprocessed. Due to lack of space the people are forced to burn the waste to reduce its volume. Toxic fumes continuously contaminate the air. This issue is closely linked to various interests and illegal activities. 

Child working in the garbage in Dandora

Even still, ``the light shines in the darkness, and darkness has not overcome it`` John 1:5. I was introduced to a local NGO working to improve the livelihoods of the community by providing youth with income generation ideas, connection to information, community participation through sports, and facilitating community clean-up days. And this is what I have come to admire so much about Kenya, youth living in the ghetto recognizing that unity brings strength, by organizing, mobilizing and pooling their human capital, they can make a big impact and effect positive change. There are many groups of young people working together in this capacity, and I am humbled by their work ethic and spirit of hope.

I am still involved with Soweto Academy as well, on a very positive note, the computer proposal has been very positively received by the Safaricom Foundation. They have not yet given me a response on whether or not they will fund the project; however, they currently have the proposal under consideration, and will respond within the next few weeks. 

On another positive note, my brother came to visit me for two weeks in January. My brother, Adam, is a nurse working at a mental health facility in B.C. He volunteered with the health clinic at Soweto Academy, in addition to seeing some of the beautiful (and not so beautiful) Kenyan sites, meeting the infamously friendly Kenyan people, including members of Shiriki, and my neighborhood youth. While visiting me, he went on a gruelling walking safari through the Masai Mara, climbed Mt. Longonot, biked through the rift valley and got lost in the biggest slum in East Africa. Not quite a beach vacation, but a great time for everyone including myself and all that got to know Adam. We did have our indulgences though, which included dining on the finest Ethiopian food, attending a social gathering in my apartment building, and checking out some of Nairobi's museums and city markets. Now that Adam has left, I am constantly asked, how is Adam doing? When is Adam coming back? It is funny how fast time goes by; it feels like Adam was only here for a weekend, though it was two full weeks. 

Adam in the Rift Valley

Another project has emerged: I was asked by some of my fellow Dagoretti community youth members to help out in forming a formally registered Community Based Organization called KUSH-ITES Family. I was asked to help out with this initiative in early January. The very first meeting was held in Satelite at one of the member's homes. There were about 30 people, all youth, and all eager to start up this organization. The meeting commenced with the mandate that we would make a constitution, we would elect board members, and we would register the organization during the upcoming week (fairly ambitious first meeting). As things progressed I was asked to be Secretary, to keep the minutes, and facilitate the registration process. Partway through the meeting, an agitated young man entered the compound. Though he was talking in Sheng (mix of Swahili and English), I could understand that he wanted money for his friend that was being held by the police. The members did not give in to his wishes and he got increasingly agitated, started shoving some of the members, making threats, picking up large rocks. Though everyone seemed pretty calm, it certainly freaked me out. Finally the man left, only to return 5 minutes later, even more agitated. He ran up to the member sitting beside me and pushed him off his chair, started yelling, picked up some rocks, and we all piled out of there. Again everyone was pretty calm, except me. A little shooken up, I exchanged glances with some of the other members and the only consolation I got was "welcome to the ghetto". 

KUSH-ITES Family CBO

We have been meeting every Monday, and the objectives of the group include problem solving within the community, facilitating small business ideas, and organizing community events (such as the community event on December 12th that I posted about a couple blogs ago, which was organized by members of this organization). I was tasked with the job of officially registering the organization which involved writing up the constitution, making the list of members, filling out applications and getting approval from the Chief, District Officer and Ministry of Gender and Social Services. While it took me about two weeks to complete everything, I can thankfully say the group is officially registerered and we will be able to pick up our certificate in two weeks. Now the real planning will begin ....

I have only two months left here, not a happy thought. I have gotten to work with many different people in different capacities, I have learned a ton about Kenya, grassroots organizations, learned some Swahilli, and have seen the overwhelming needs evident everywhere. I have started to think about starting an initiative out here. An initiative that could continue to help out the youth, perhaps more formally, through resources, information, mentoring, knowledge and expertise. I am gathering ideas on how to make such an initiative happen and how to make it sustainable. Thus far, these are just thoughts, and this may only commence in the future, but I feel I have found a role here amongst the youth and would like to be able to continue with this work.

Train that takes workers from Kibera to town

Nairobi police

The police have been on a rampage arresting the youth at every corner, street and side road. Imagine you are sitting on a bench near the side of the road. There are several youth gathered waiting for business. They wait to find work conducting in a matatu, they wait to find people who want their shoes cleaned or fixed, they wait to find any available job at all that will give them 30 - 100 shillings (50 cents to a little more than a dollar) so that they can eat.

Two people walk up to the scene. They are young (early twenties), dressed casually, and appear nonchalant. A  question is posed: "what are you guys doing here?", a simple reply: "we are waiting to get work", "Ahhh, so you are idling", "no we are waiting for work", the handcuffs come out, eyes dart for an escape and the youth are off sprinting in any direction away from the police.
 

The police are usually successful at catching one or two people. They haul them down to the police station and come up with a false charge: robbery, public drunkeness, tauting, etc... What the police are looking for ... are bribes. Here are some pictures of police doing what police do best.

 

I decided it was time to have a little talk with the so called Department of Justice. There were a few different police stations on my radar, first stop: xxx Police. I arrived early in the morning (having been there already the previous night and told what time to come the next day). I was alone, and brought some bread, bananas and milk to give to the youth. While they are offered some food by the police, it is very very little. Their holding cell is a small room containing up to 30 people. No showers are offered, and they are required to participate in hard labour during the day: truly pitiful conditions. A youth can spend up to 2 months in that room with no shower, hard labour and minimal food. They sleep on the floor with no blankets, pillows or mattresses.

I walked into the office, and always enjoy the reaction people have to a white woman visiting the police station in the ghetto. I asked to speak to the OCS in which they directed me to wait outside his office. He called me in shortly thereafter, and I told him that I knew the youth, they were good boys, they were not criminals, and we were working together trying to start an organization. No one dared ask me for a bribe. I was later told that this is because the police are scared that I might report them (not an unfounded suspicion). The OCS was extremely friendly with me, and after a series of questions about my work here in Kenya, he ordered the youth to be released. He gave a short lecture to the youth, and we were on our way. As the youth were let out of the cell, the officers in the station kept asking them "Who is this white woman? How do you know her? Why has she come?"

Next stop: xxx police station. Xxx police station is not a pleasant place, though it is located in a much more serene environment than Xxx. The police here are notoriously corrupt and known for brutality and torture. In fact, the IMLU (Independent Medical Legal Unit) has documented 217 cases of torture by the Xxxx police, and 24 cases of extra-judicial killings. I can assure you, this is an underreported number. Therefore, I felt an urgent need to get down there and help in any way possible. Adrenaline pumping, I approached the office and asked to speak to the officer in charge, the OCS. Again, I entered his office and told him I was a youth advocate, and wanted to know why they were being held, what their charges were, and what the official procedure was. I also told him that I work with these youth, they are of good character, and are not criminals. The OCS listened intently, though not quite as friendly as the last one, but again, did not dare ask me for a bribe. He hauled the youth into the room and asked a series of questions about family, livelihood and dwelling place. After he finished asking these futile questions, and lecturing the youth about his "criminal activity", the meeting adjourned and the youth were released later that day. However, I was informed that someone else had been asked to pay a bribe on behalf of the youth, hence they were not freed without feeding the bribery spiral. It is astonishing that the police are targeting the very poor, those that are barely getting by, the bottom of the pyramid consumers. Here is an example of their living place below.

Again, the holding conditions at this police station are atrocious. Everyone is crammed together into a tiny cell, no beds, blankets, or chairs. They are barely fed, and are expected to stay in the cell for as long as it takes to obtain a verdict from trial. I know some individuals who have been kept in remand for two years! Many youth will plead guilty just to avoid the extremely long wait for trial. The levels of corruption never cease to amaze me. Threats, torture, bribes and murder: the police know no boundaries. There is a Department of Anti-corruption in which you can report such acts of corruption; however, one must be careful when reporting officers as retaliation is all too common if they can figure out your identity. For now, my friends are free, though, they are using extreme caution and are avoiding being seen congregating by the roadside.

It is a new day and there is new hope that lives can change, systems of corruption can be brought to justice, and the impoverished can escape the cycles of poverty. I have been honored with the nickname "Jah Will" instead of Joelle. Jah will be done - there are solutions out there, may we be granted the wisdom to find them.