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.