Good morning one and all,
As I am exploding my budget on airtime, I’m having to rein in my internet use a little hence no post yesterday. Times are hard.
To set the scene, as I pen this update, the sun is beating down outside and James is sat on the other side of our small living room come kitchenette in a cloud of flour making chapattis. He has been threatening to do so for the last 4 weeks but until today always found a reason not to: lack of time, materials etc. So last weekend I picked up the necessary chapatti flour and this week Benson made us a rolling pin so now there is no more excuses. He looks a little like a minstrel right now … are we allowed to say that anymore?
Following the excitement of the tea factory, the last couple of days have been filled with more traditional work… the work I am used to doing in Paris. At the start of the week I was asked to produce a document which presents how St. Anna must adapt in order continue to grow and serve its students and the community over the next 10 years. So on Thursday evening I started the loftily entitled “St. Anna Day Care Centre – Strategic Plan 2010-2020: A roadmap for the coming 10 Years”. Catchy title eh!
My story board is still broad brush, but to sum it up, the St Anna Day Care Centre was started in 1994 as monthly fellowship meeting for the elderly. Now over 15 years old, the centre is unrecognizable from its humble beginnings, and its role has changed considerably.
Before defining in detail what needs to remain the same/change/be done, my plan is first to revisit the existing vision of St. Anna with the teachers and governors:
. Core purpose: Why do we exist?
. Core values: What are the ideals that underlie the school and its actions?
. Envisioned Future: Does the vision of St. Anna established in 1994 still fit with that of today and furthermore 2020? If not what is the desired future state of the school? Where are do we wish to go?
Armed with the answers to the above questions and almost certainly a new vision, I will zoom in on the pillars of the school that together should deliver this new vision:
i. Structure & Organization: How will the school need to be structured and organized
ii. Stakeholders: How will we work with, and address and balance the expectations of the different groups?
a. Students
b. Teachers
c. Community
d. Sponsors
e. Partners
f. Education authority
iii. Infrastructure & Projects: What will need to be built, developed and undertaken to deliver the vision?
iv. Finance: How will the school and all its pillars be financed?
The answers to these questions will form the basis for our Strategic Intent i.e. what it is we have to do: a set of overarching measurable, time-limited goals that we should commit to achieving.
Impressed?!
What else has been happening? Hmm? This morning I was up at the crack of dawn to meet with my namesake the stone mason to walk the short distance to Jane’s place (the lady whose house is collapsing). We had agreed earlier in the week to go so he could cast his professional eye over the place and decide the best course of action: repair or rebuild. John the school tailor asked if he could tag along…maybe he fancied the walk, maybe he thought he could darn the holes her house, but whatever his motivation he brought mangos with him so he was more than welcome.
It had rained hard over night so the ground was very heavy going. By the time we had got to the school gate, it felt like walking with ski-boots on. Looking down at my feet I saw had brought most of the school grounds with me. Matthew and John didn’t seem too bothered, so I stamped my feet and carried on.
We found Jane sat on the ground peeling maize. She welcomed us with a smile of recognition and some bananas. Jane gave Matthew the guided tour pointing out the worst areas of erosion & subsidence which she had valiantly but unsuccessfully tried to plug with plastic bags.
Ever since I first met Matthew and greeted him in Kikuyu, he has been convinced I speak fluently, so having eyed-up the house he started to shout instructions to me. I personally find it quite comical, but seeing as the situation was serious I approached John for translation. Here is what Matthew was telling me:
. Her house could be repaired, but for the amount of work required, you might as well re-build it.
(I agreed and that was our decision right there)
. The new house is to be 30ft x 15 ft divided into 4 rooms
. We will require 900 bricks at KES7/brick (KES6,300 or £63)
. Transporting the bricks will cost the same again (KES6,300 or £63)
. Labour will be estimated and he will get back to me on Monday with the quote.
By my reckoning, we might be able to build Jane a new home for under £200!
I showed Matthew what I had noted down so he could double check, and he is now more convinced than ever that I speak Kikuyu.
When got back home from Jane’s about an hour ago, I set to work completing the design for the school & community library. Having thought more about converting the container into a library and the cost estimate I got from the States, I started to ask around locally and on Thursday found a company in Nairobi that do the same. They only require a design to give us a quote, so yesterday afternoon before football I began to design a library (floor plan, windows, separator panels, shelves etc.) It was great fun.
The design brief is as follows: “To convert the existing 20ft x 8ft container at St. Anna Day Centre into a library accessible to the school and community alike. It should be both a place to check out books and have a reference section; it should therefore also be able to receive 2 or 3 at a time people in relative comfort”.
The non-technical specs are simple enough:
i. Container: 20ft x 8ft
ii. Windows:
a. Cut into 3 walls (north, east & south facing) allowing sufficient light to enter
b. Must be possible to open windows, ideally with sliding mechanism
c. Protection bars for each window
d.Ideally made from PVC (the north side of the container looks onto the school playing field)
iii. Light fittings should be included. Possible deepening of the ceiling framework for connection/plug to be built in
iv. Power supply for computer
v. Thought must be given to airing/cooling/ventilating the container, possibly through a coating of some description
With it duly completed I shot it off to Nairobi and now await the quote. It goes without saying that I will let you now the full SP when I get a response.
Having had such fun doing the library, I am now starting the design for Jane’s house!
Before I sign off, I wanted to let you know that for those of you who have agreed to sponsor a child on the waiting list and who have already set-up the monthly transfer, the child should start arriving at the school next week (if the child isn’t already at the school that is). If you recall the story of Allen and Annette, they arrived on Wednesday of this week…and were greeted with 3 full days of exams! It’s that time of the term.
I hope you realise the difference you are making to their lives. The £17 it costs to put a child through school is half of what most parents or guardians earn in a month. One of the guardians of an existing student (Peter Mbugua) was so happy he brought me a bucket of mangos! I counted 53. We shared them with the children last night.
Oooh disaster for the chapattis…we are out of gas apparently! Well, that’s the afternoon errand sorted.
Kwihoka inyuthe muriega (I hope you all are well)
Saturday, 27 February 2010
Thursday, 25 February 2010
Tea
Yesterday was to be spent with the carpenter Benson discussing the finishing touches to the workshop (security) and the pending jobs (rabbit hutch, rocking chair, possible fruit drying racks etc).
But all that will have to wait as Benson has much more importance issues to deal with. When Benson and I spoke Monday, I remarked that he seemed a little distracted and asked if there was anything the matter. Benson confided in me that last Thursday his cousin & her husband had died. Expressing my sympathies, I inquired whether they had died in a road accident. It was then that Benson came out with the horrific revelation that they had been murdered! I don’t think I have ever been so shocked in my entire life. Please don’t judge me too harshly if I tell you honestly that it is so shocking that I found it difficult to believe.
I met Benson this morning at the central Mutatu station in Murang’a to cover his €8 return fare home. The funeral is on Friday and he will come back to the school on Monday.
Back to yesterday. Whilst having breakfast, there was a knock at our door and the beaming face of Mr. Jackson appeared around it.
- “Moriega! (hello to more than 1 person i.e. James and me), I am stopping by to keep in touch, isn’t it!”
We insisted that Mr Jackson join us and we all enjoyed a hearty breakfast of fried eggs on toast, sweet potatoes and banana yoghurt all washed down with tea.
- “What is it that I can be doing for you, Mr. Matthew?” inquired Mr Jackson… so we agreed to meet again next week to explore some more and document Mr. Jackson’s stories of colonial times and the strive for independence. I also gave him a pile of literature on drying fruit as this is a new project we are considering for the school and the community. In the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king!
As Mr Jackson exited, in came the school welfare teacher Jane (of pre-wedding fame) to inform us that a visit to the local tea factory had been arranged for the Swedes at 10h45 and that were welcome to join them. As anything involving tea trumps all other activities, we immediately cleared our agendas.
By 11h30 we were in the school bus and driving into the hills to the north of the school (1500m – 2000m). As we climbed higher the landscape & vegetation on either side of us transformed into a rolling sea of the most glorious jade green. As far as the eye could see, the hills were a blanket of tea bushes, punctured only every now and then by the brightly coloured clothes of the tea pickers who scurried between them. Even the air had filled with the familiar scent of tea. It was a dream come true.
After 25 minutes or so, we exited the main road and followed the sign posts for the Kiru Tea Factory. 10 more minutes of bumpy track brought us to the gates of the Kiru Tea Factory Company Ltd, PO Box 187, Kiriaini.
The security guard greeted us and presented us with the Do’s and Don’ts. We returned his greeting, shook hands and exchanged a few words about football. And with the security formalities completed we drove into the compound. For those of you interested the Dos and Don’ts were:
Do:
. Register at the gate
. Report to the office first if interested in touring the factory
. Use proper PPES when at the production floor (no idea what that means but I’m sure we complied)
Don’t:
. Enter if you are suffering from a communicable disease e.g. cough, runny nose
. Shake hands when at the factory floor and avoid hanging clothes
. Touch tea with bare hands and don’t touch machines (oops and oops)
Once inside we were ushered in to the office of the factory manager Mr. John Mwega.
- “Would you like to take tea before or after the visit?” asked Mr Mwega
- “How about both?” I replied … so that was settled.
Tea in hand, Mr. Mwega told us about the company and the factory. Here is what I noted down:
. The Kiru Tea Factory was founded in 1993 following the merger of 2 other tea factories (Chinga and another I didn’t catch)
. The Kiru Tea Factory is “a new beginning from a successful past”
. The vision of the factory is to: “aim at being the best tea factory in the production, processing, dispatching of high quality tea free of food safety hazards in Africa and beyond”.
. Mr. Mwega took over as manager in 2008
. The factory has 143 salaried employees
. The factory’s biggest clients/markets are: Britain, Pakistan, Egypt & the Sudan
. The factory’s catchment covers 12 acres or 4.86 hectares of tea bushes owned by 7200 farmers (suppliers)
. A tea bush yields on average 0.9kg of tea. The target is 1.1kg
. The factory has a production capacity of 15 million kg / year
. 1kg of tea pays ca. KES12 to the farmer. At the end of May the farmer gets and extra KES5 for each kg. Then there is a bonus in December should the world market price allow. Last year the farmers received an additional KES21 for each kg…seems to be a better deal than the coffee growers get.
. Last year the world tea market suffered a short fall of 100 million kg owing to drought in Kenya & Sri Lanka. Also the civil war in Sri Lanka didn’t help. This sent prices soaring to $6/kg on the world market (hence the hefty bonus in December). This year prices have fallen back again to $3/kg as El Nino (not Torres) has brought rains and therefore increased yields / supply.
. Tea is hand-picked (only) by the locals picked all day from 07h00 to 16h00 when it is weighed at the weighing centre before being moved to the factory.
Presentations and Q&A over, we were handed over to Mr. David Irungu the production manager and our guide for the visit. We donned our long white coats and hats, and looking not unlike a bunch of flashers, we followed Mr. Irungo to the first stage of the process.
1)Offloading, Weighing & Inspection
At one end of the factory, the trucks roll in loaded with bags of handpicked tea leaves. These are unloaded and hung on hooks to be weighed again (if you remember, they have already been weighed at the weighing centre in the field…keep up). At this time, the tea leaves are also visually inspected to ensure quality.
The hooks are attached to a conveyor which carries the bags of tea into a large 2 floored hanger filled with large metal troughs.
2)Withering
The withering troughs measure about 10 metres long and 2 metres wide. They are aligned in 2 rows of 20 and cover the whole surface area of the hangar. They contain a mesh like rack upon which the tea leaves are placed
The tea leaves are spread out in the withering toughs and left for anything from 8 – 16 hours in order to reduce the moisture content of the tea from 70% to 20%. Air is blown underneath the racks to assist in the process. Mr. Irungo told us that sometimes steam is also applied to assist the process. The scientists among you may help me understand how applying steam reduces water content.
The withering troughs can process up to 60k kg / day
Once the withering process is completed and the moisture content is down to about 20%, the tea leaves are ready for the next process. Cutting
3)Cutting
Or to give it is technical name CTC – Cutting, Tearing, Crushing.
The tea leaves are brushed out of the withering troughs and onto a conveyor belt which carries the leaves through a series of machines that CTC.
Each machine CTCs the leaves smaller & smaller and finer & finer. The leaves must be much smaller in preparation for the fermentation process.
4)Fermentation
It is during the fermentation process that the tea starts to look a little more like that stuff in your tea bag.
The CTCd tea leaves are turned slowly for 90 minutes as they pass through the controlled fermenting unit. This machine adds O² and strictly controls the air flow and temperature.
This process kicks starts a natural enzyme in the tea that slowly changes the colour of the leaves from green to yellow to brown. It also begins to smell much more like tea.
After 90 minutes in the fermenter, the leaves are ready for drying.
5)Drying
As the drying process is very dusty, we all now had to put masks on.
The drying machine looks a lot like those toasters hotels have which spit your slice out at the end The leaves are dried to stop the fermenting process and ensure the tea characteristics are sealed in. This process takes about 30 minutes at 150°c. Any hotter and the tea will burn; any cooler and mould can develop.
At the end of drying, the leaves look pretty much like what you have in you tea bag. But as the leaves may still contain some undesirable particles the leaves must now be sorted
6)Sorting
To sort the tea leaves, they pass through a series of revolving fibre extracting cylinders which capture any foreign bodies.
Magnets are also used to pick up any metal chips that may still be in the tea (factory target, zero metal chips at the final magnet in the packing area).
The remaining pure leaves must then be graded.
7)Grading
Basically the tea leaves are shaken though a gigantic vibrating sieve with meshes of different sizes ranging from large at the top to very fine at the bottom (just like the soil grading tests we did at work!).
There are 7 grades or sizes, however according to Mr. Irungo, size 2 (the second largest…although still quite small) is best. The largest is apparently more expensive, but you need much more to make tea.
Once graded, the tea is stored in tanks according to grade for a maximum of 12 hours before being packed.
8)Packing
The tea leaves are then poured into foil lined bags of 75kg and bundled onto pallets ready for shipping to the tea auctions of Nairobi. They have a 3 year shelf life.
9)QC
Our final stop was in the QC room which smelt like the inside of a giant tea pot. In this room a cross section of tea is checked every hour. This enviable task falls to the management and supervisors.
And that my friends is the process of making/refining tea.
Our visit was concluded with a final cuppa and the signing of the visitors book; my entry simply read "please keep up the good work as I love tea".
I do.
But all that will have to wait as Benson has much more importance issues to deal with. When Benson and I spoke Monday, I remarked that he seemed a little distracted and asked if there was anything the matter. Benson confided in me that last Thursday his cousin & her husband had died. Expressing my sympathies, I inquired whether they had died in a road accident. It was then that Benson came out with the horrific revelation that they had been murdered! I don’t think I have ever been so shocked in my entire life. Please don’t judge me too harshly if I tell you honestly that it is so shocking that I found it difficult to believe.
I met Benson this morning at the central Mutatu station in Murang’a to cover his €8 return fare home. The funeral is on Friday and he will come back to the school on Monday.
Back to yesterday. Whilst having breakfast, there was a knock at our door and the beaming face of Mr. Jackson appeared around it.
- “Moriega! (hello to more than 1 person i.e. James and me), I am stopping by to keep in touch, isn’t it!”
We insisted that Mr Jackson join us and we all enjoyed a hearty breakfast of fried eggs on toast, sweet potatoes and banana yoghurt all washed down with tea.
- “What is it that I can be doing for you, Mr. Matthew?” inquired Mr Jackson… so we agreed to meet again next week to explore some more and document Mr. Jackson’s stories of colonial times and the strive for independence. I also gave him a pile of literature on drying fruit as this is a new project we are considering for the school and the community. In the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king!
As Mr Jackson exited, in came the school welfare teacher Jane (of pre-wedding fame) to inform us that a visit to the local tea factory had been arranged for the Swedes at 10h45 and that were welcome to join them. As anything involving tea trumps all other activities, we immediately cleared our agendas.
By 11h30 we were in the school bus and driving into the hills to the north of the school (1500m – 2000m). As we climbed higher the landscape & vegetation on either side of us transformed into a rolling sea of the most glorious jade green. As far as the eye could see, the hills were a blanket of tea bushes, punctured only every now and then by the brightly coloured clothes of the tea pickers who scurried between them. Even the air had filled with the familiar scent of tea. It was a dream come true.
After 25 minutes or so, we exited the main road and followed the sign posts for the Kiru Tea Factory. 10 more minutes of bumpy track brought us to the gates of the Kiru Tea Factory Company Ltd, PO Box 187, Kiriaini.
The security guard greeted us and presented us with the Do’s and Don’ts. We returned his greeting, shook hands and exchanged a few words about football. And with the security formalities completed we drove into the compound. For those of you interested the Dos and Don’ts were:
Do:
. Register at the gate
. Report to the office first if interested in touring the factory
. Use proper PPES when at the production floor (no idea what that means but I’m sure we complied)
Don’t:
. Enter if you are suffering from a communicable disease e.g. cough, runny nose
. Shake hands when at the factory floor and avoid hanging clothes
. Touch tea with bare hands and don’t touch machines (oops and oops)
Once inside we were ushered in to the office of the factory manager Mr. John Mwega.
- “Would you like to take tea before or after the visit?” asked Mr Mwega
- “How about both?” I replied … so that was settled.
Tea in hand, Mr. Mwega told us about the company and the factory. Here is what I noted down:
. The Kiru Tea Factory was founded in 1993 following the merger of 2 other tea factories (Chinga and another I didn’t catch)
. The Kiru Tea Factory is “a new beginning from a successful past”
. The vision of the factory is to: “aim at being the best tea factory in the production, processing, dispatching of high quality tea free of food safety hazards in Africa and beyond”.
. Mr. Mwega took over as manager in 2008
. The factory has 143 salaried employees
. The factory’s biggest clients/markets are: Britain, Pakistan, Egypt & the Sudan
. The factory’s catchment covers 12 acres or 4.86 hectares of tea bushes owned by 7200 farmers (suppliers)
. A tea bush yields on average 0.9kg of tea. The target is 1.1kg
. The factory has a production capacity of 15 million kg / year
. 1kg of tea pays ca. KES12 to the farmer. At the end of May the farmer gets and extra KES5 for each kg. Then there is a bonus in December should the world market price allow. Last year the farmers received an additional KES21 for each kg…seems to be a better deal than the coffee growers get.
. Last year the world tea market suffered a short fall of 100 million kg owing to drought in Kenya & Sri Lanka. Also the civil war in Sri Lanka didn’t help. This sent prices soaring to $6/kg on the world market (hence the hefty bonus in December). This year prices have fallen back again to $3/kg as El Nino (not Torres) has brought rains and therefore increased yields / supply.
. Tea is hand-picked (only) by the locals picked all day from 07h00 to 16h00 when it is weighed at the weighing centre before being moved to the factory.
Presentations and Q&A over, we were handed over to Mr. David Irungu the production manager and our guide for the visit. We donned our long white coats and hats, and looking not unlike a bunch of flashers, we followed Mr. Irungo to the first stage of the process.
1)Offloading, Weighing & Inspection
At one end of the factory, the trucks roll in loaded with bags of handpicked tea leaves. These are unloaded and hung on hooks to be weighed again (if you remember, they have already been weighed at the weighing centre in the field…keep up). At this time, the tea leaves are also visually inspected to ensure quality.
The hooks are attached to a conveyor which carries the bags of tea into a large 2 floored hanger filled with large metal troughs.
2)Withering
The withering troughs measure about 10 metres long and 2 metres wide. They are aligned in 2 rows of 20 and cover the whole surface area of the hangar. They contain a mesh like rack upon which the tea leaves are placed
The tea leaves are spread out in the withering toughs and left for anything from 8 – 16 hours in order to reduce the moisture content of the tea from 70% to 20%. Air is blown underneath the racks to assist in the process. Mr. Irungo told us that sometimes steam is also applied to assist the process. The scientists among you may help me understand how applying steam reduces water content.
The withering troughs can process up to 60k kg / day
Once the withering process is completed and the moisture content is down to about 20%, the tea leaves are ready for the next process. Cutting
3)Cutting
Or to give it is technical name CTC – Cutting, Tearing, Crushing.
The tea leaves are brushed out of the withering troughs and onto a conveyor belt which carries the leaves through a series of machines that CTC.
Each machine CTCs the leaves smaller & smaller and finer & finer. The leaves must be much smaller in preparation for the fermentation process.
4)Fermentation
It is during the fermentation process that the tea starts to look a little more like that stuff in your tea bag.
The CTCd tea leaves are turned slowly for 90 minutes as they pass through the controlled fermenting unit. This machine adds O² and strictly controls the air flow and temperature.
This process kicks starts a natural enzyme in the tea that slowly changes the colour of the leaves from green to yellow to brown. It also begins to smell much more like tea.
After 90 minutes in the fermenter, the leaves are ready for drying.
5)Drying
As the drying process is very dusty, we all now had to put masks on.
The drying machine looks a lot like those toasters hotels have which spit your slice out at the end The leaves are dried to stop the fermenting process and ensure the tea characteristics are sealed in. This process takes about 30 minutes at 150°c. Any hotter and the tea will burn; any cooler and mould can develop.
At the end of drying, the leaves look pretty much like what you have in you tea bag. But as the leaves may still contain some undesirable particles the leaves must now be sorted
6)Sorting
To sort the tea leaves, they pass through a series of revolving fibre extracting cylinders which capture any foreign bodies.
Magnets are also used to pick up any metal chips that may still be in the tea (factory target, zero metal chips at the final magnet in the packing area).
The remaining pure leaves must then be graded.
7)Grading
Basically the tea leaves are shaken though a gigantic vibrating sieve with meshes of different sizes ranging from large at the top to very fine at the bottom (just like the soil grading tests we did at work!).
There are 7 grades or sizes, however according to Mr. Irungo, size 2 (the second largest…although still quite small) is best. The largest is apparently more expensive, but you need much more to make tea.
Once graded, the tea is stored in tanks according to grade for a maximum of 12 hours before being packed.
8)Packing
The tea leaves are then poured into foil lined bags of 75kg and bundled onto pallets ready for shipping to the tea auctions of Nairobi. They have a 3 year shelf life.
9)QC
Our final stop was in the QC room which smelt like the inside of a giant tea pot. In this room a cross section of tea is checked every hour. This enviable task falls to the management and supervisors.
And that my friends is the process of making/refining tea.
Our visit was concluded with a final cuppa and the signing of the visitors book; my entry simply read "please keep up the good work as I love tea".
I do.
Wednesday, 24 February 2010
Goodbye the Swedes
Over the last 2 days our Swedish visitors have left St. Anna to continue on their own paths. Yesterday, Maja (pronounced Maya), the young lady who has been here for a week, headed on to Nairobi to meet up with her class-mates. From there they will continue their way to various reserves and national parks studying the animals and conservation for 4 weeks (it sounds top). Maja is studying to be a veterinarian at Uppsala (spelling?) University in Sweden and during her time in Kenya, she will be writing a paper specifically on Vultures! Now if you’re thinking that there isn’t much call for that sort of thing, you’d be wrong. Believe it or not there is even a monthly journal dedicated to them. Maja is a veritable fountain of vulture knowledge, for example, did you know that vultures:
. stick together for life, and take it in turns hunting & minding the nest; even if one of them finds food first think in the morning, they will not swap…your day is your day!
. are naturally immune to anthrax.
. circle in the sky to signal to other vultures that dinner is served below them
. have a separate pouchy / sack thing called a “crop” for storing food to bring back to their young This is not to be confused with regurgitating like wolves or other birds of prey. I am not sure how they choose whether to put food in their own stomachs or the crop; I am awaiting Maja’s clarification on that point!
Fascinating, I’m sure you’d agree. Anyway ... she was fun to have a round and knew a tonne of games. We’ll all miss her (but don’t tell her I said so).
Today with the remaining Swedes, Äke, Göte & Gunilla, we visited a local tea factory (see tomorrow’s blog). But this afternoon, they also began their journey home via a couple of days in the Masai Mara.
It is a fact that I have not had much contact with the Swedes before, but having spent 10 days with and around them I definitely rate them very highly. They are really nice folks.
So, to fill the hole before tomorrow’s summary of today’s events at the tea factory, I propose the following. I am currently reading a book called “Dead Aid – Why Aid is not working and how there is another way for Africa”, and I wanted to share the following extract with you to illustrate the many issues & challenges the continent is facing. If that doesn’t take your fancy, go to the BBC website and read of Sachin Tendulkar’s record double century again South Africa; i’d understand:
“With an average per capita income of roughly US$1 a day, sub-Saharan Africa remains the poorest region in the world. Africa’s real per capita income today is lower than in the 1970s, leaving many African countries at least as poor as they were forty years ago. With over half of the 700 million Africans living on less than a dollar a day, sub-Saharan Africa has the highest proportion of poor people in the world – some 50 per cent of the world’s poor. And while the number of the world’s population and proportion of the world’s people in the extreme poverty fell after 1980, the proportion of people in sub-Saharan Africa living in abject poverty nearly doubled, leaving the average African poorer today than just two decades ago. And looking ahead, the 2007 United Nations Human Development Report forecasts that sub-Saharan Africa will account for almost one third of world poverty in 2015, up from one fifth in 1990 (this largely due to the dramatic developmental strides being made elsewhere around the emerging world).
Life expectancy has stagnated - Africa is the only continent where life expectancy is less than sixty years; today it hovers around fifty years, and in some countries it has fallen back to what it was in the 1950s (life expectancy in Swaziland is a paltry thirty years). The decrease in life expectancy is mainly attributed to the rise of the HIV-AIDS pandemic. One in seven children across African continent die before the age of five. These statistics are particularly worrying in that (as with many other developing regions of the world), roughly 50 pre cent of Africa’s population is young – below the age of fifteen years.
Adult literacy across most African countries has plummeted below pre-1980 levels. Literacy rates, health indicators (malaria, water borne diseases such as bilharzias and cholera) and income inequality all remain a cause for worry. And still across important indicators, the trend in Africa is not just downwards: Africa is (negatively) decoupling from the progress being made across the rest of the world. Even with African growth rates averaging 5 per cent a year over the past several years, the African Progress Panel pointed out in 2007 that growth is still short of the 7 per cent that needs to be sustained to make substantial inroads into poverty reduction.
On the political side, some 50 per cent of the continent remains under non-democratic rule. According to the Polity IV database, Africa is still home to at least 11 fully autocratic regimes (Congo-Brazzaville, Equatorial Guinea, Eritrea, Gabon, The Gambia, Mauritania, Rwanda, Sudan, Swaziland, Uganda and Zimbabwe). Three African heads of state (dos Santos of Angola, Obiang of Equatorial Guinea and Bongo of Gabon) have been in power since the 1970s (having ascended to power on 2 December 1967, President Bongo has recently celebrated his fourtieth year in power). Five other presidents have had a lock on power since the 1980s (Compaore of Burkina Faso, Biya of Cameroon, Conte of Guinea, Museveni of Uganda and Mugabe of Zimbabwe). Since 1996, eleven countries had been embroiled in civil wars (Angola, Burundi, Chad, Democratic Republic of Congo, Republic of Congo, Guinea Bissau, Liberia, Rwanda, Sierra Leone, Sudan and Uganda). And according to the May 2008 annual Global Peace Index, out of the ten bottom countries, four African states are among the least peaceful in the world (in order, Central African Republic, Chad, Sudan and Somalia) – the most of any one continent.
. stick together for life, and take it in turns hunting & minding the nest; even if one of them finds food first think in the morning, they will not swap…your day is your day!
. are naturally immune to anthrax.
. circle in the sky to signal to other vultures that dinner is served below them
. have a separate pouchy / sack thing called a “crop” for storing food to bring back to their young This is not to be confused with regurgitating like wolves or other birds of prey. I am not sure how they choose whether to put food in their own stomachs or the crop; I am awaiting Maja’s clarification on that point!
Fascinating, I’m sure you’d agree. Anyway ... she was fun to have a round and knew a tonne of games. We’ll all miss her (but don’t tell her I said so).
Today with the remaining Swedes, Äke, Göte & Gunilla, we visited a local tea factory (see tomorrow’s blog). But this afternoon, they also began their journey home via a couple of days in the Masai Mara.
It is a fact that I have not had much contact with the Swedes before, but having spent 10 days with and around them I definitely rate them very highly. They are really nice folks.
So, to fill the hole before tomorrow’s summary of today’s events at the tea factory, I propose the following. I am currently reading a book called “Dead Aid – Why Aid is not working and how there is another way for Africa”, and I wanted to share the following extract with you to illustrate the many issues & challenges the continent is facing. If that doesn’t take your fancy, go to the BBC website and read of Sachin Tendulkar’s record double century again South Africa; i’d understand:
“With an average per capita income of roughly US$1 a day, sub-Saharan Africa remains the poorest region in the world. Africa’s real per capita income today is lower than in the 1970s, leaving many African countries at least as poor as they were forty years ago. With over half of the 700 million Africans living on less than a dollar a day, sub-Saharan Africa has the highest proportion of poor people in the world – some 50 per cent of the world’s poor. And while the number of the world’s population and proportion of the world’s people in the extreme poverty fell after 1980, the proportion of people in sub-Saharan Africa living in abject poverty nearly doubled, leaving the average African poorer today than just two decades ago. And looking ahead, the 2007 United Nations Human Development Report forecasts that sub-Saharan Africa will account for almost one third of world poverty in 2015, up from one fifth in 1990 (this largely due to the dramatic developmental strides being made elsewhere around the emerging world).
Life expectancy has stagnated - Africa is the only continent where life expectancy is less than sixty years; today it hovers around fifty years, and in some countries it has fallen back to what it was in the 1950s (life expectancy in Swaziland is a paltry thirty years). The decrease in life expectancy is mainly attributed to the rise of the HIV-AIDS pandemic. One in seven children across African continent die before the age of five. These statistics are particularly worrying in that (as with many other developing regions of the world), roughly 50 pre cent of Africa’s population is young – below the age of fifteen years.
Adult literacy across most African countries has plummeted below pre-1980 levels. Literacy rates, health indicators (malaria, water borne diseases such as bilharzias and cholera) and income inequality all remain a cause for worry. And still across important indicators, the trend in Africa is not just downwards: Africa is (negatively) decoupling from the progress being made across the rest of the world. Even with African growth rates averaging 5 per cent a year over the past several years, the African Progress Panel pointed out in 2007 that growth is still short of the 7 per cent that needs to be sustained to make substantial inroads into poverty reduction.
On the political side, some 50 per cent of the continent remains under non-democratic rule. According to the Polity IV database, Africa is still home to at least 11 fully autocratic regimes (Congo-Brazzaville, Equatorial Guinea, Eritrea, Gabon, The Gambia, Mauritania, Rwanda, Sudan, Swaziland, Uganda and Zimbabwe). Three African heads of state (dos Santos of Angola, Obiang of Equatorial Guinea and Bongo of Gabon) have been in power since the 1970s (having ascended to power on 2 December 1967, President Bongo has recently celebrated his fourtieth year in power). Five other presidents have had a lock on power since the 1980s (Compaore of Burkina Faso, Biya of Cameroon, Conte of Guinea, Museveni of Uganda and Mugabe of Zimbabwe). Since 1996, eleven countries had been embroiled in civil wars (Angola, Burundi, Chad, Democratic Republic of Congo, Republic of Congo, Guinea Bissau, Liberia, Rwanda, Sierra Leone, Sudan and Uganda). And according to the May 2008 annual Global Peace Index, out of the ten bottom countries, four African states are among the least peaceful in the world (in order, Central African Republic, Chad, Sudan and Somalia) – the most of any one continent.
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
Senior Ladies Day
Today was Senior Ladies Day at St. Anna. Apart from the name, that is where any other the comparisons with Ascot end; although that said many did come in elaborate head wear.
Senior Ladies Day was established a long time ago. It is the day when the older ladies of the community are invited to the school & the Bishop’s residence to spend the day together. Judging by the turn out, it is an important event in the Gathuke-ini social calendar; I counted 50+. It used to take place every month, but owing to the ever increasing turn out and associated cost, it is now only every 2 months. It is an occasion to spend time together, catch-up, discuss medical conditions (I saw at least 2 of elephantitis), criticise elected officials and of course, gossip!
The ladies arrive from late morning and are received with tea. Speeches of welcome and introduction swiftly follow, then all take part in a program of exercises to the best of their ability (knees bend, arms stretch ra! ra! ra!). It was nice to think that my Omi (Grandma) does more or less the same thing every Tuesday night with the other residents on her estate. For a moment I had a vision of them all doing it together and gossiping all the while…I am sure the subjects of interest and scandal in Kenya are not that different from those Omi discusses. I wonder if wars could be avoided if we just sat all the elderly ladies down together and let them chat?
I only spent about 2 hours with the ladies during and after lunch but in that time my whole life was extracted from me, dissected, analysed, debated and put to rights. My age and my marital status i.e. not married were of universal fascination. To be 34 and unmarried in Kenya immediately suggests a whole catalogue of problems from mental instability to alcoholism. I tried to assure them that my problems are not as numerous as they thought, but the general conclusion was that I am on the scrap heap… this did not prevent 2 ladies asking me to marry their daughters however. Ha!
In the afternoon, there was singing and dancing; the school children came and performed for them and then for those willing and able, there was a Kenyan version of the conga which circled the garden 2x (the video is ace). Suitably physically invigorated, the arch-deacon of the dioceses then set to work on their minds.
It is now almost 19h00 O’clock and they are still here. Before they leave they will all receive a help package of salt, cooking oil, rice, sugar and matches to take home with them and for the bed-ridden who could not make it here themselves. And this is where I have to leave you to help distribute them.
Senior Ladies Day was established a long time ago. It is the day when the older ladies of the community are invited to the school & the Bishop’s residence to spend the day together. Judging by the turn out, it is an important event in the Gathuke-ini social calendar; I counted 50+. It used to take place every month, but owing to the ever increasing turn out and associated cost, it is now only every 2 months. It is an occasion to spend time together, catch-up, discuss medical conditions (I saw at least 2 of elephantitis), criticise elected officials and of course, gossip!
The ladies arrive from late morning and are received with tea. Speeches of welcome and introduction swiftly follow, then all take part in a program of exercises to the best of their ability (knees bend, arms stretch ra! ra! ra!). It was nice to think that my Omi (Grandma) does more or less the same thing every Tuesday night with the other residents on her estate. For a moment I had a vision of them all doing it together and gossiping all the while…I am sure the subjects of interest and scandal in Kenya are not that different from those Omi discusses. I wonder if wars could be avoided if we just sat all the elderly ladies down together and let them chat?
I only spent about 2 hours with the ladies during and after lunch but in that time my whole life was extracted from me, dissected, analysed, debated and put to rights. My age and my marital status i.e. not married were of universal fascination. To be 34 and unmarried in Kenya immediately suggests a whole catalogue of problems from mental instability to alcoholism. I tried to assure them that my problems are not as numerous as they thought, but the general conclusion was that I am on the scrap heap… this did not prevent 2 ladies asking me to marry their daughters however. Ha!
In the afternoon, there was singing and dancing; the school children came and performed for them and then for those willing and able, there was a Kenyan version of the conga which circled the garden 2x (the video is ace). Suitably physically invigorated, the arch-deacon of the dioceses then set to work on their minds.
It is now almost 19h00 O’clock and they are still here. Before they leave they will all receive a help package of salt, cooking oil, rice, sugar and matches to take home with them and for the bed-ridden who could not make it here themselves. And this is where I have to leave you to help distribute them.
Monday, 22 February 2010
Liverpool FC Goodies!
What with all the excitement of public transport uprisings, pre-weddings and chicken auctions, I completely forgot to mention that late last week I received a parcel. Actually to be precise, on Friday morning I received a little yellow card from the Kenyan Postal Service informing me of the afore mentioned parcel and inviting me to collect it from Murang’a post office at my convenience. Saturday was convenient.
Owing to the remoteness of the school, the sub-standard road surface, and a terrain only a kick start participant (or someone on a mission from god i.e. our motorcycling Evangelist) can get around on, no deliveries are made directly to the school; so we have a PO Box No. (532). This means that we have to go to the local post office to pick things up.
I had only been hoping to receive 1 parcel. I purposefully omitted to say I had been “expecting” to receive, as I have been warned that theft in the postal service is rife and therefore it’s unlikely that anything will ever arrive via this channel. But credit where credit is due, a large padded envelope of goodies from Liverpool FC (pens, posters, stickers etc) was waiting for me.
Having consulted with the multi-talented Mr. Karanja (maths teacher, football coach, choir director), it was decided to give these out this afternoon. So at 16h00 we rdv’d on (what cannot rightly be called) the school field. Mr Karanja had had the bright idea of handing out the goodies as prizes for correctly answered questions.
- “What is Matt’s favourite football team?” began Mr. Karanja, easing them into the program.
- “Liverpool!” screamed Peter Mbugua first.
- “Correct! An LFC pen for Peter. Well done Peter” congratulated Mr. Karanja.
- “Who is the captain of Liverpool?” I continued.
- “Gerrard!”, replied Erastus.
- “Rrrrrriiight! Give Erastus a pen Mr. K”
Glancing into the envelope, we realised that at this rate we would be here until the end of term. But fortunately/tragically (delete as appropriate), this was the limit of their knowledge of LFC so we opted simply to hand out the remaining goodies. Chaos ensued as 200 hyper-excited children swarmed all over us. It took a full 5 minutes and some stern words from Mr. Karanja before a semblance of order was restored.
Eventually the children formed 2 loosely defined lines (picture the French queuing for , … well anything really, and you get the idea) and the remainder was distributed in exchange for a couple of photos holding their prezzies aloft and 200 shaky promises to support Liverpool from now on.
Happy with our afternoon’s work, Mr Karanja and I went to join another teacher, Mr Kerenge, scrumping mangos in our neighbour’s garden. It was like being a kid again. Oh the simple pleasures in life!
Owing to the remoteness of the school, the sub-standard road surface, and a terrain only a kick start participant (or someone on a mission from god i.e. our motorcycling Evangelist) can get around on, no deliveries are made directly to the school; so we have a PO Box No. (532). This means that we have to go to the local post office to pick things up.
I had only been hoping to receive 1 parcel. I purposefully omitted to say I had been “expecting” to receive, as I have been warned that theft in the postal service is rife and therefore it’s unlikely that anything will ever arrive via this channel. But credit where credit is due, a large padded envelope of goodies from Liverpool FC (pens, posters, stickers etc) was waiting for me.
Having consulted with the multi-talented Mr. Karanja (maths teacher, football coach, choir director), it was decided to give these out this afternoon. So at 16h00 we rdv’d on (what cannot rightly be called) the school field. Mr Karanja had had the bright idea of handing out the goodies as prizes for correctly answered questions.
- “What is Matt’s favourite football team?” began Mr. Karanja, easing them into the program.
- “Liverpool!” screamed Peter Mbugua first.
- “Correct! An LFC pen for Peter. Well done Peter” congratulated Mr. Karanja.
- “Who is the captain of Liverpool?” I continued.
- “Gerrard!”, replied Erastus.
- “Rrrrrriiight! Give Erastus a pen Mr. K”
Glancing into the envelope, we realised that at this rate we would be here until the end of term. But fortunately/tragically (delete as appropriate), this was the limit of their knowledge of LFC so we opted simply to hand out the remaining goodies. Chaos ensued as 200 hyper-excited children swarmed all over us. It took a full 5 minutes and some stern words from Mr. Karanja before a semblance of order was restored.
Eventually the children formed 2 loosely defined lines (picture the French queuing for , … well anything really, and you get the idea) and the remainder was distributed in exchange for a couple of photos holding their prezzies aloft and 200 shaky promises to support Liverpool from now on.
Happy with our afternoon’s work, Mr Karanja and I went to join another teacher, Mr Kerenge, scrumping mangos in our neighbour’s garden. It was like being a kid again. Oh the simple pleasures in life!
Sunday, 21 February 2010
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Today was one of our teacher’s pre-weddings. A pre-wedding is not a wedding rehearsal, reflecting upon it now as I sit at home looking at my empty wallet, the best way I can describe it is an exercise in getting as much money as you can out of everyone there (especially the foreigners).
So after lunch, together with our 4 Swedish guests, we made are way to the end of the school track to catch a mutatu into Murang’a. One came fairly promptly and we all piled in for the 15-20 min ride into town.
At the first stop a drunken man got on carrying a chicken in a plastic bag (insert you own gags here). “Habari yako Matthew” … although I couldn’t place him, he clearly recognised me. We exchanged some friendly but unintelligible gobbledegook and then he promptly fell asleep on my shoulder. The chicken meanwhile sat calmly on his lap with his head poking out of the bag suspiciously eyeing his surrounding passengers.
Imagine my surprise then when we got to Murang’a and the drunken man & the chicken crossed the road and accompanied us the short distance to St. James’ primary school where the pre-wedding occasion was taking place. Even more was my surprise when the drunken man deposited the chicken in the corner of the classroom then promptly withdrew. Shortly after I remembered him as one of the guys currently working on the new boys’ dormitory. Best not tell the Bishop & Mama as drunkenness is more than his jobs worth I fear!
For those of you unfamiliar with a pre-wedding agenda, it can be more or less summarised like this:
. Sing
. Pray
. Speeches
. Tea
. Sing
. Pray
. Speeches
. Tea
At this point guests are invited to make donations to help towards the happy couple’s wedding. This was not unbeknown to us as we had been briefed in advance by colleagues at the school. So one by one we all filed by dropping our cash in the box.
Once everyone had paid their respects and money, the master of ceremonies announced the main and for us unexpected event in the proceedings; an auction … and the prize lot? ... You’ve guessed it, the CHICKEN!
I had to have him. So I started the bidding at KES300 (about £3). And that’s where the bidding finished and how I came to be the proud owner of a chicken. Other products where auctioned: sweet potatoes, arrow roots, mangos etc, but I paid little attention as I acquainted myself with my Trevor.
After another round of tea, the final period was a bit of a free for all. People could pay to hear other people sing or not sing. People could pay to tell a story or a poem. Then the whole thing degraded into a farce with people being fined for anything and nothing. I was fined KES50 for making noise. I was then fined another KES50 for clapping. The icing on the cake was when the assembled guests were informed that the tea and biscuits we had previously consumed were also KES50, and all remaining biscuits were KES10 each. But I couldn’t really care as I had a chicken.
Et voila…Trevor took the bus with us back the way he had come and we released him to join the other chickens in the coop. I haven’t yet decided whether to ask Mama to cook him this week. What do you think?
So after lunch, together with our 4 Swedish guests, we made are way to the end of the school track to catch a mutatu into Murang’a. One came fairly promptly and we all piled in for the 15-20 min ride into town.
At the first stop a drunken man got on carrying a chicken in a plastic bag (insert you own gags here). “Habari yako Matthew” … although I couldn’t place him, he clearly recognised me. We exchanged some friendly but unintelligible gobbledegook and then he promptly fell asleep on my shoulder. The chicken meanwhile sat calmly on his lap with his head poking out of the bag suspiciously eyeing his surrounding passengers.
Imagine my surprise then when we got to Murang’a and the drunken man & the chicken crossed the road and accompanied us the short distance to St. James’ primary school where the pre-wedding occasion was taking place. Even more was my surprise when the drunken man deposited the chicken in the corner of the classroom then promptly withdrew. Shortly after I remembered him as one of the guys currently working on the new boys’ dormitory. Best not tell the Bishop & Mama as drunkenness is more than his jobs worth I fear!
For those of you unfamiliar with a pre-wedding agenda, it can be more or less summarised like this:
. Sing
. Pray
. Speeches
. Tea
. Sing
. Pray
. Speeches
. Tea
At this point guests are invited to make donations to help towards the happy couple’s wedding. This was not unbeknown to us as we had been briefed in advance by colleagues at the school. So one by one we all filed by dropping our cash in the box.
Once everyone had paid their respects and money, the master of ceremonies announced the main and for us unexpected event in the proceedings; an auction … and the prize lot? ... You’ve guessed it, the CHICKEN!
I had to have him. So I started the bidding at KES300 (about £3). And that’s where the bidding finished and how I came to be the proud owner of a chicken. Other products where auctioned: sweet potatoes, arrow roots, mangos etc, but I paid little attention as I acquainted myself with my Trevor.
After another round of tea, the final period was a bit of a free for all. People could pay to hear other people sing or not sing. People could pay to tell a story or a poem. Then the whole thing degraded into a farce with people being fined for anything and nothing. I was fined KES50 for making noise. I was then fined another KES50 for clapping. The icing on the cake was when the assembled guests were informed that the tea and biscuits we had previously consumed were also KES50, and all remaining biscuits were KES10 each. But I couldn’t really care as I had a chicken.
Et voila…Trevor took the bus with us back the way he had come and we released him to join the other chickens in the coop. I haven’t yet decided whether to ask Mama to cook him this week. What do you think?
Saturday, 20 February 2010
Matatu Fracas
Following Thursday’s marathon day with Mr. Jackson, I decided to take it a little easier yesterday. Although 200 kids are pretty tiring, 6+ hours in the unforgiving Kenyan sun is an altogether different proposition.
Having received a couple more sponsorship requests over the last 2 days, the school secretary and I spent the morning going through the waiting list and pulling together the individual stories of each child. For those of you who have made requests, we will be getting back to you this week with names, photos and details.
The rest of the day I spent with class 5 recounting as many of Aesop’s fables I could remember:
. The Ant & the Grasshopper
. The Lion & the Mouse
. The Bundle of Sticks
. The Wind & the Sun
. The Wind & the Sun:
The Wind and the Sun were disputing which was the stronger. Suddenly they saw a traveller coming down the road, and the Sun said: "I see a way to decide our dispute. Whichever of us can cause that traveller to take off his cloak shall be regarded as the stronger. You begin."
So the Sun retired behind a cloud, and the Wind began to blow as hard as it could upon the traveller. But the harder he blew the more closely did the traveller wrap his cloak round him, till at last the Wind had to give in despair.
Then the Sun came out and shone in all his glory upon the traveller, who soon found it too hot to walk with his cloak on.
Moral of the story? … Kindness is more effective than severity
The kids also love songs; all the more so if they have accompanying hand movements or steps e.g. He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands, Heads Shoulders Knees & Toes, etc. They also adore poems, tongue-twisters and games. So for those who plan to come down, think back to your school days and brush up on all of them. Yesterday I also taught them “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pepper”…they think it’s the best thing ever!
As today is Saturday, and Saturday is market day, today we went to market. The whole trip passed fairly uneventfully except for the fracas on the Mutatu on the way home. The operators of the bus had unilaterally decided to double the price of the return trip fair seeing as how few people were travelling from town today. This information they neglected to share with the passengers until they were aboard and the journey well underway.
When time came to collect money, the announcement was met with universal disapproval (except from yours truly who was oblivious to the cause of the drama now unfolding). Having been briefed, I can truly say we then spoke with one voice. If tomatoes had been to hand, they would have been flung. The driver immediately pulled over to continue the disagreement on the side of the road where he could give the matter his undivided attention. Passengers disembarked, heads were scratched, voices raised, hands were waved, defensive and not so defensive postures were assumed. I was particularly satisfied with my contribution of ‘here here’ from the back of the mêlée.
After a few minutes of lively debate, we all got aboard again and continued our journey. Although it did not seem to me that the matter had been resolved. And sure enough at the next stop, the pantomime began again. But this time I was ready … By the next stop I had remembered my Kiswahili phrase “there is something wrong with the bill” – “Kuna kose kwenye bili” and used it to optimum (and probably annoying) effect. “
“Kuna kose kwenye bili”
“Kuna kose kwenye bili”
“Kuna kose kwenye bili”
I am not sure if anyone took any notice of me, but I certainly felt more involved in proceedings. Once again after a few minutes, we all got back on the bus to continue the journey. Whether or not we got onboard as the matter had been put to bed once and for all, or whether they all just wanted the English man to shut up, I do not know, but I carried on the day with an improved opinion of myself.
So there you go … those ridiculous phrases you see in guide books really can come in handy.
Anyway, it is Saturday night and I am sat with a couple of moths and half a dozen mosquitoes for company. If you are out, please have a cold one for me.
Tomorrow I have a pre-wedding to go to.
Toodle-oo
Having received a couple more sponsorship requests over the last 2 days, the school secretary and I spent the morning going through the waiting list and pulling together the individual stories of each child. For those of you who have made requests, we will be getting back to you this week with names, photos and details.
The rest of the day I spent with class 5 recounting as many of Aesop’s fables I could remember:
. The Ant & the Grasshopper
. The Lion & the Mouse
. The Bundle of Sticks
. The Wind & the Sun
. The Wind & the Sun:
The Wind and the Sun were disputing which was the stronger. Suddenly they saw a traveller coming down the road, and the Sun said: "I see a way to decide our dispute. Whichever of us can cause that traveller to take off his cloak shall be regarded as the stronger. You begin."
So the Sun retired behind a cloud, and the Wind began to blow as hard as it could upon the traveller. But the harder he blew the more closely did the traveller wrap his cloak round him, till at last the Wind had to give in despair.
Then the Sun came out and shone in all his glory upon the traveller, who soon found it too hot to walk with his cloak on.
Moral of the story? … Kindness is more effective than severity
The kids also love songs; all the more so if they have accompanying hand movements or steps e.g. He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands, Heads Shoulders Knees & Toes, etc. They also adore poems, tongue-twisters and games. So for those who plan to come down, think back to your school days and brush up on all of them. Yesterday I also taught them “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pepper”…they think it’s the best thing ever!
As today is Saturday, and Saturday is market day, today we went to market. The whole trip passed fairly uneventfully except for the fracas on the Mutatu on the way home. The operators of the bus had unilaterally decided to double the price of the return trip fair seeing as how few people were travelling from town today. This information they neglected to share with the passengers until they were aboard and the journey well underway.
When time came to collect money, the announcement was met with universal disapproval (except from yours truly who was oblivious to the cause of the drama now unfolding). Having been briefed, I can truly say we then spoke with one voice. If tomatoes had been to hand, they would have been flung. The driver immediately pulled over to continue the disagreement on the side of the road where he could give the matter his undivided attention. Passengers disembarked, heads were scratched, voices raised, hands were waved, defensive and not so defensive postures were assumed. I was particularly satisfied with my contribution of ‘here here’ from the back of the mêlée.
After a few minutes of lively debate, we all got aboard again and continued our journey. Although it did not seem to me that the matter had been resolved. And sure enough at the next stop, the pantomime began again. But this time I was ready … By the next stop I had remembered my Kiswahili phrase “there is something wrong with the bill” – “Kuna kose kwenye bili” and used it to optimum (and probably annoying) effect. “
“Kuna kose kwenye bili”
“Kuna kose kwenye bili”
“Kuna kose kwenye bili”
I am not sure if anyone took any notice of me, but I certainly felt more involved in proceedings. Once again after a few minutes, we all got back on the bus to continue the journey. Whether or not we got onboard as the matter had been put to bed once and for all, or whether they all just wanted the English man to shut up, I do not know, but I carried on the day with an improved opinion of myself.
So there you go … those ridiculous phrases you see in guide books really can come in handy.
Anyway, it is Saturday night and I am sat with a couple of moths and half a dozen mosquitoes for company. If you are out, please have a cold one for me.
Tomorrow I have a pre-wedding to go to.
Toodle-oo
Friday, 19 February 2010
Day with Mr. Jackson
Yesterday morning I had a date with Mr. Jackson (the man drinking tea in the middle of my facebook profile photo). We had agreed the day before that he would come and fetch me at 09h00 and take me to see where he lives and meet his wife.
The concept of “African time” that prevails here is such that when someone says 09h00, they actually mean 09h45. So at 09h40 I made my way up to the school to see Mr. Jackson striding into the grounds. Thinking about it now, living in France is actually excellent preparation for living in Africa…if you want your meeting to start at 09h00 in France, tell everyone it is starting at 08h00 and they’ll all turn up at 09h00.
The formalities over, we made our way back down the school track towards the road. Appealing to my spirit of adventure Mr. Jackson revealed his plan for the day. “We will be having an exploration isn’t it?! I will show you houses, farms, rivers, gardens…we will be like Livingstone and Speke … Livingstone died in Africa!”*. As I tried to disregard last remark, I couldn’t help recalling I promised my Grandma I wouldn’t have any adventures or climb any trees.
As we walked Mr Jackson waved his stick around like he was conducting the surrounding countryside. He pointed out every land mark and home, and everyone we met, he named them. He then put me into a terrible state of mind by announcing: “I will now tell you what your forefathers did to us in colonial times”. I never know quite how you are supposed to react to a statement like that. Of course I am ashamed for the way we treated many indigenous peoples but at the same time, I didn’t do it. He proceeded to tell me how from 1954 – 1963 the British created the village of Mutuya by displacing the peoples of 7 villages: Kahinga, Gatare, Gaturumbari, Gatunguru, Mbuya, Karega and Kangwaci. Mutuya was a gated community where all the residents of the other villages were forced to live, and if you were found outside after 18h00 you were shot (you’d probably be given and ASBO today).
With a definite sense of pride, Mr. Jackson explained that the tribes of the central province of Kenya were fierce warriors and resolved to cause as much trouble for the British as possible. Indeed most of the Kenyans campaigning for independence (including Kenyatta the first post-independence President) came from this part of Kenya.
In the company of Mr Jackson, we walked across the hills and valleys of Gatheki-ini (our sub-location). We walked along a road made in 1952 by Chief Haber Githaigo to the Wathege Coffee Factory (if he is still around, he should come back and repair it). Wathege Coffee Factory is where the residents of the 7 villages take their coffee following the harvests of August – December. They each receive KES20/lb (£0.20, $0.31, €0.23) from the factory owner, then, if sold on to the brokers for much more, they sometimes receive KES10 or so more per kilo. When I checked the ICO Composite Indicator Price of coffee last night, it was trading in New York at $1.24/lb; that’s a 400% mark up on the original price paid to the farmers.
There is a genuine sense of anger amongst the local coffee farmers as they too have made this simple calculation. It is the brokers who are considered the villains, skimming all the profit for what they (rightly?) see as little to no work
By 12h00, the sun was beating down and I was glad to arrive at Mr. Jackson’s home. I met his wife Violet who showed me inside and insisted I take some lunch. As we ate our lunch of mangos and tea, I asked him about his life.
Mr. Jackson was born in 1947, the son of a local chief. After finishing Theka technical college he got his first job in 1968 as a plant mechanic at the local police department. After a couple of years, he moved on and became a bus conductor. It was during this time that he met his wife Violet who was taking his line everyday to her job as a typist in Murang’a. Their first date was over breakfast in Murang’a.
As their romance blossomed the time came to go and see her father and his father. Kikuyu tradition dictates that all parties must agree to the alliance; if any disapproves the deal is off. Fortunately for our young lovers everyone was very happy with the arrangement and in 1971 they were married in a mass ceremony (many couples at the same time).
Mr. Jackson left his job as a bus conductor in 1972 and joined the Cooper Motor Corporation (of Mini fame). During his time at CMC he worked on the President’s Rolls Royce and the first Jaguars to be imported into Kenya. Working his way up to shop steward, in 1999 he received his certificate of merit for 25 years of service and a handshake. He retired in the same year and since then he has been keeping busy doing odd jobs at St. Anna and tending to his garden.
When the time came for us to continue, Violet presented me with a bag of mangos and made me promise to come again. I thanked her for her hospitality and told her that now I can find my own way, I will be back soon.
As we left, Mr. Jackson showed me proudly around his garden and introduced me to his goats (Migule, Dune, Wamwitha, Tuthu & Kirima) and his cows (Gathima & Mwangaza). I made him promise me to call his next cow Daisy.
He led me further into his garden to see his plants and vegetables; few of which I recognised, and finally his bee hives hanging high in the trees. He put them up there after his first colonies were exterminated by “thugs” spraying Doom (a household pest killer) into them! There are clearly mindless idiots the world over.
I lost track of the number of homes and people we visited. We met Mr Jackson’s last surviving uncle, referred to as father (all uncles are referred to as father here). We visited guardians of children at St. Anna. We visited Jane again (the lady whose house is being washed away) but this time she looked much worse than last week. Her mouth had become covered with abscesses and she had a cut on her forehead as if she had had a fall. Whereas last week she was alert, she did not seem at all conscious of our presence. We met Wilson & Samwel who live with and look after their parents Joseph MButu & Florence Njoki. We met Grace & Leah who live together and are learning to survive without their husband Jeremiah who died in August of 09.
Just when you think you have seen the worst possible living conditions, you see something else. Everyone appears to me to be suffering from the same issues as they struggle to survive. In an economy still predominantly based on agriculture there are simply very few jobs and opportunities for people to find any work other than casual labour.
With no work and no income, families continue to work what little land they have in order to feed themselves. They grow and harvest what they can to eat (invariably bananas and maize) and if they are fortunate enough to have land to spare they may cultivate a few cash crops: coffee & macadamia. If they are very fortunate they will have a cow or two and may be able to sell some milk.
With no welfare state, no social security, no pensions (state or private pension) you are obliged to work when and where you can in order to continue to make ends meet and feed yourself and your family. There is no chance of sitting back and enjoying your golden years…there are no golden years. In many cases you have lost your children to HIV-AIDS and so you have inherited your childrens’ children. You now need to feed, clothe and put them through school. If you need medical treatment and don’t have the money, you must go without. The best you can hope for is for one of the faith based organisations to step in.
Their daily lives and living conditions are punishing and most people look older than they are. However, although their lives are a continual struggle, they have not lost their dignity and there is even something noble about their stoicism and their greater hope. You cannot help being humbled in their presence for they are only poor in the material sense of the term.
Our final call was to Mr. Samson Karanja who had recently lost his mother. The family had all gathered to mourn and, as they live off the beaten track the diocese’s motorcycling evangelist had also come to address them during this time. Although we only planned to pay our respects, we were invited to join them for tea. And so as we sat under the mango tree sipping our tea, we listened to the vicar read chapter after chapter of the bible. Now, recent experience has taught me to always have a few words ready on the off chance someone calls upon you to address the congregation, and true enough no sooner had the vicar closed his bible he turned to Mr Jackson and me to say a few words. Playing for time, I respectfully deferred to Mr. Jackson who gave an impressive 5 minute eulogy. An impossible act to follow, I gave a succinct but heart felt few lines thanking them for receiving me and expressing my sorrow at their loss.
After all speeches were concluded, we said our goodbyes to Samson and his family and started to make our way home. By this time Mr. Jackson and I had been walking for over 6 hours, so when the evangelist offered to give me a ride home on the back of his motorbike, I gladly accepted.
Thanking Mr. Jackson sincerely for a great day, looking after me and taking the time to show me around, we parted, agreeing to meet again soon to talk about dried fruit; we have a tentative plan to set up a fruit drying centre at the school. As he clearly knows everyone in the area, I cannot think of anyone I better qualified to act a liaison with the local farmers.
Finally before I sign off, news of Joyce. Joyce had her scan at Thika hospital yesterday and the results were clear which we are all happy about. However she continues to lose consciousness. The doctors told our nurse it is just residual effects from the bang on her head. Thoughts?
Night night xx
* Livingstone died in May 1873 in the swamps around Lake Bangweulu. Speke didn’t fair much better, he accidentally shot himself whilst hunting in Wiltshire on 18. September 1864
The concept of “African time” that prevails here is such that when someone says 09h00, they actually mean 09h45. So at 09h40 I made my way up to the school to see Mr. Jackson striding into the grounds. Thinking about it now, living in France is actually excellent preparation for living in Africa…if you want your meeting to start at 09h00 in France, tell everyone it is starting at 08h00 and they’ll all turn up at 09h00.
The formalities over, we made our way back down the school track towards the road. Appealing to my spirit of adventure Mr. Jackson revealed his plan for the day. “We will be having an exploration isn’t it?! I will show you houses, farms, rivers, gardens…we will be like Livingstone and Speke … Livingstone died in Africa!”*. As I tried to disregard last remark, I couldn’t help recalling I promised my Grandma I wouldn’t have any adventures or climb any trees.
As we walked Mr Jackson waved his stick around like he was conducting the surrounding countryside. He pointed out every land mark and home, and everyone we met, he named them. He then put me into a terrible state of mind by announcing: “I will now tell you what your forefathers did to us in colonial times”. I never know quite how you are supposed to react to a statement like that. Of course I am ashamed for the way we treated many indigenous peoples but at the same time, I didn’t do it. He proceeded to tell me how from 1954 – 1963 the British created the village of Mutuya by displacing the peoples of 7 villages: Kahinga, Gatare, Gaturumbari, Gatunguru, Mbuya, Karega and Kangwaci. Mutuya was a gated community where all the residents of the other villages were forced to live, and if you were found outside after 18h00 you were shot (you’d probably be given and ASBO today).
With a definite sense of pride, Mr. Jackson explained that the tribes of the central province of Kenya were fierce warriors and resolved to cause as much trouble for the British as possible. Indeed most of the Kenyans campaigning for independence (including Kenyatta the first post-independence President) came from this part of Kenya.
In the company of Mr Jackson, we walked across the hills and valleys of Gatheki-ini (our sub-location). We walked along a road made in 1952 by Chief Haber Githaigo to the Wathege Coffee Factory (if he is still around, he should come back and repair it). Wathege Coffee Factory is where the residents of the 7 villages take their coffee following the harvests of August – December. They each receive KES20/lb (£0.20, $0.31, €0.23) from the factory owner, then, if sold on to the brokers for much more, they sometimes receive KES10 or so more per kilo. When I checked the ICO Composite Indicator Price of coffee last night, it was trading in New York at $1.24/lb; that’s a 400% mark up on the original price paid to the farmers.
There is a genuine sense of anger amongst the local coffee farmers as they too have made this simple calculation. It is the brokers who are considered the villains, skimming all the profit for what they (rightly?) see as little to no work
By 12h00, the sun was beating down and I was glad to arrive at Mr. Jackson’s home. I met his wife Violet who showed me inside and insisted I take some lunch. As we ate our lunch of mangos and tea, I asked him about his life.
Mr. Jackson was born in 1947, the son of a local chief. After finishing Theka technical college he got his first job in 1968 as a plant mechanic at the local police department. After a couple of years, he moved on and became a bus conductor. It was during this time that he met his wife Violet who was taking his line everyday to her job as a typist in Murang’a. Their first date was over breakfast in Murang’a.
As their romance blossomed the time came to go and see her father and his father. Kikuyu tradition dictates that all parties must agree to the alliance; if any disapproves the deal is off. Fortunately for our young lovers everyone was very happy with the arrangement and in 1971 they were married in a mass ceremony (many couples at the same time).
Mr. Jackson left his job as a bus conductor in 1972 and joined the Cooper Motor Corporation (of Mini fame). During his time at CMC he worked on the President’s Rolls Royce and the first Jaguars to be imported into Kenya. Working his way up to shop steward, in 1999 he received his certificate of merit for 25 years of service and a handshake. He retired in the same year and since then he has been keeping busy doing odd jobs at St. Anna and tending to his garden.
When the time came for us to continue, Violet presented me with a bag of mangos and made me promise to come again. I thanked her for her hospitality and told her that now I can find my own way, I will be back soon.
As we left, Mr. Jackson showed me proudly around his garden and introduced me to his goats (Migule, Dune, Wamwitha, Tuthu & Kirima) and his cows (Gathima & Mwangaza). I made him promise me to call his next cow Daisy.
He led me further into his garden to see his plants and vegetables; few of which I recognised, and finally his bee hives hanging high in the trees. He put them up there after his first colonies were exterminated by “thugs” spraying Doom (a household pest killer) into them! There are clearly mindless idiots the world over.
I lost track of the number of homes and people we visited. We met Mr Jackson’s last surviving uncle, referred to as father (all uncles are referred to as father here). We visited guardians of children at St. Anna. We visited Jane again (the lady whose house is being washed away) but this time she looked much worse than last week. Her mouth had become covered with abscesses and she had a cut on her forehead as if she had had a fall. Whereas last week she was alert, she did not seem at all conscious of our presence. We met Wilson & Samwel who live with and look after their parents Joseph MButu & Florence Njoki. We met Grace & Leah who live together and are learning to survive without their husband Jeremiah who died in August of 09.
Just when you think you have seen the worst possible living conditions, you see something else. Everyone appears to me to be suffering from the same issues as they struggle to survive. In an economy still predominantly based on agriculture there are simply very few jobs and opportunities for people to find any work other than casual labour.
With no work and no income, families continue to work what little land they have in order to feed themselves. They grow and harvest what they can to eat (invariably bananas and maize) and if they are fortunate enough to have land to spare they may cultivate a few cash crops: coffee & macadamia. If they are very fortunate they will have a cow or two and may be able to sell some milk.
With no welfare state, no social security, no pensions (state or private pension) you are obliged to work when and where you can in order to continue to make ends meet and feed yourself and your family. There is no chance of sitting back and enjoying your golden years…there are no golden years. In many cases you have lost your children to HIV-AIDS and so you have inherited your childrens’ children. You now need to feed, clothe and put them through school. If you need medical treatment and don’t have the money, you must go without. The best you can hope for is for one of the faith based organisations to step in.
Their daily lives and living conditions are punishing and most people look older than they are. However, although their lives are a continual struggle, they have not lost their dignity and there is even something noble about their stoicism and their greater hope. You cannot help being humbled in their presence for they are only poor in the material sense of the term.
Our final call was to Mr. Samson Karanja who had recently lost his mother. The family had all gathered to mourn and, as they live off the beaten track the diocese’s motorcycling evangelist had also come to address them during this time. Although we only planned to pay our respects, we were invited to join them for tea. And so as we sat under the mango tree sipping our tea, we listened to the vicar read chapter after chapter of the bible. Now, recent experience has taught me to always have a few words ready on the off chance someone calls upon you to address the congregation, and true enough no sooner had the vicar closed his bible he turned to Mr Jackson and me to say a few words. Playing for time, I respectfully deferred to Mr. Jackson who gave an impressive 5 minute eulogy. An impossible act to follow, I gave a succinct but heart felt few lines thanking them for receiving me and expressing my sorrow at their loss.
After all speeches were concluded, we said our goodbyes to Samson and his family and started to make our way home. By this time Mr. Jackson and I had been walking for over 6 hours, so when the evangelist offered to give me a ride home on the back of his motorbike, I gladly accepted.
Thanking Mr. Jackson sincerely for a great day, looking after me and taking the time to show me around, we parted, agreeing to meet again soon to talk about dried fruit; we have a tentative plan to set up a fruit drying centre at the school. As he clearly knows everyone in the area, I cannot think of anyone I better qualified to act a liaison with the local farmers.
Finally before I sign off, news of Joyce. Joyce had her scan at Thika hospital yesterday and the results were clear which we are all happy about. However she continues to lose consciousness. The doctors told our nurse it is just residual effects from the bang on her head. Thoughts?
Night night xx
* Livingstone died in May 1873 in the swamps around Lake Bangweulu. Speke didn’t fair much better, he accidentally shot himself whilst hunting in Wiltshire on 18. September 1864
Wednesday, 17 February 2010
Joyce
I have just heard that Joyce will be going to Thika for a scan tomorrow. Apparently, the paediatrician she saw today was surprised the doctor she saw yesterday didn't recommend the same.
I'm back...sorry for the radio silence
First of all, apologies for not having updated my blog yesterday. I realise that for many of you they have become an indispensable part of your day:
. Seb: whilst stuck on the RER
. Towz: in the cab on the way home
. Fabien: as you fly to and from Manchester
. Guillaume: when you should be listening to that bloke who replaced me
. Jeb: as you walk Blue
. Des: in your supplier management meetings
. Mike: as you sing along to Brooks & Dunn and rev your engine looking for some one to race at the lights
. Stu: as you hunt high and low for that Columbian arms dealers lost Bottero (have you tried the back of the sofa?)
. Junior: as you load the nuclear fuel rods into the reactor (you really shouldn’t you know)
. Ali: whilst dropping the kids off at the pool
What can I say? Sorry for the void left in your day…I ran out of airtime.
So what has been happening? Well, we currently have 4 Swedish visitors/sponsors with us. The 2 guys, Äke (pronounces Errke) and Güte (pronounced Yerrte) are both retired now but now work as carpenters. Gunbritt is a retired dermatologist and Gunilla a practicing nurse.
They arrived this past weekend and will be with us for the next week, so James and I have been charged with showing them around, introducing them to the children and incorrectly translating everything they ask ;-) ... of course we're not!
The day before yesterday the guys went to Nairobi to purchase a large all-in-one electric planer/circular saw/drill machine. I don’t know how much it cost but it sure weighed enough when we unloaded it last night. It’s gonna be a nightmare to get back to Sweden! Only joking, it’s for our workshop of course! 3 cheers for the Swedes …
Yesterday morning the machine and all who sail in her were blessed by bishop.
The ladies have been spending most of their days with our new school nurse. One thing is funny though, since the new nurse arrived at the end of last week, everyone has become sick. Really, until she joined us no-one was ever sick, and now…well, the kids are dropping like flies; there is practically a queue outside the dispensary. If anyone has one of those ticket number distributor machines, we’re interested.
One of our children does really appear to be sick however. I learned yesterday that over the past few days, Joyce (class 8) has lost consciousness 2x here at the school. It turns out a few weeks ago she slipped in the bathroom and banged her head. The school nurse and the 2 Swedish ladies took her to hospital yesterday for some initial tests and the doctors diagnosed her condition as psychosomatic.
Well, Joyce lost consciousness again yesterday late on and so the ladies were taking here again today to the hospital demand a more thorough examination. If I need to go and “talk” to whoever, believe me I will. I’m not sure if the local hospital in Murang’a has the equipment to perform a scan of some kind, but if not we will make arrangements to get her to Thika or Nairobi. I will keep you all posted.
Yesterday afternoon we all paid a visit to St. Michael’s High School at the other end of our school track. The high school only opened 3 weeks ago and currently has 1 class of 24 students. We met the head master and the children, 8 of whom were at St. Anna last year and although not on the curriculum, I was asked if I would teach French. Sacré bleu…les pauvres enfants!
Not that I will refuse, but I was saved by my 4pm phone call to a company called Stack in Rhode Island to discuss working together to transform one of our shipping containers into a library and the other (if it ever arrives) into a clinic or teachers’ quarters. It looks like we’re gonna need about $7,5k per container… which when you consider the cost of doing the same with traditional materials isn’t too bad. They have the added advantage of being moveable and modular, so should we wish to expand we just plop another on top. Hmm…need to think it through a bit more.
Meanwhile as your general education is of great concern to me, I feel you should know that all of my adventures are taking place against the backdrop of a degrading political situation. To cut a long story short, after 2007’s disputed elections, President Kibaki & Prime Minister Odinga formed a coalition government. This has limped along from one argument to another for the last 2 years or so, and last Sunday appears to be the final straw for one of them. The prime minister suspended 2 ministers accused of corruption (corrupt MPs? Surely not!) only for President Kibaki to re-instate them a few hours later. The agriculture minister is alleged to be complicit in the disappearance of $26m earmarked for Maize, and the education minister in $1m destined for schools.
The Prime Minister has now decided he can no-longer work with the President and called for Kofin Annan to mediate (he must know I have my hands full) as there is a real chance of the coalition collapsing should this dispute not be resolved. More worrying as they both represent different ethnic groups there is then the risk of it all kicking off again (at this point I will be having a whip round for a flight home).
Finally, as you may have read in my last post, I have begun making a series of videos to show different aspects of the childrens’ daily lives here at the school e.g. dorms, fetching water, washing, cooking, picking mangos, the cross-bar challenge etc. If there is anything in particular you feel you would like to see, Thursdays are video day so please let me know and we will add it to the list. I probably won’t be able to upload them to the blog until I pop home in April, but they should be worth the wait.
Tuonane kesho (see you tomorrow)
PS: I found a good stick on the track at the weekend so over the last couple of days I have been sanding it down to make myself a walking staff. Tomorrow I will varnish it and then I will be able to tread the hills and valleys like a ginger Gandalf.
. Seb: whilst stuck on the RER
. Towz: in the cab on the way home
. Fabien: as you fly to and from Manchester
. Guillaume: when you should be listening to that bloke who replaced me
. Jeb: as you walk Blue
. Des: in your supplier management meetings
. Mike: as you sing along to Brooks & Dunn and rev your engine looking for some one to race at the lights
. Stu: as you hunt high and low for that Columbian arms dealers lost Bottero (have you tried the back of the sofa?)
. Junior: as you load the nuclear fuel rods into the reactor (you really shouldn’t you know)
. Ali: whilst dropping the kids off at the pool
What can I say? Sorry for the void left in your day…I ran out of airtime.
So what has been happening? Well, we currently have 4 Swedish visitors/sponsors with us. The 2 guys, Äke (pronounces Errke) and Güte (pronounced Yerrte) are both retired now but now work as carpenters. Gunbritt is a retired dermatologist and Gunilla a practicing nurse.
They arrived this past weekend and will be with us for the next week, so James and I have been charged with showing them around, introducing them to the children and incorrectly translating everything they ask ;-) ... of course we're not!
The day before yesterday the guys went to Nairobi to purchase a large all-in-one electric planer/circular saw/drill machine. I don’t know how much it cost but it sure weighed enough when we unloaded it last night. It’s gonna be a nightmare to get back to Sweden! Only joking, it’s for our workshop of course! 3 cheers for the Swedes …
Yesterday morning the machine and all who sail in her were blessed by bishop.
The ladies have been spending most of their days with our new school nurse. One thing is funny though, since the new nurse arrived at the end of last week, everyone has become sick. Really, until she joined us no-one was ever sick, and now…well, the kids are dropping like flies; there is practically a queue outside the dispensary. If anyone has one of those ticket number distributor machines, we’re interested.
One of our children does really appear to be sick however. I learned yesterday that over the past few days, Joyce (class 8) has lost consciousness 2x here at the school. It turns out a few weeks ago she slipped in the bathroom and banged her head. The school nurse and the 2 Swedish ladies took her to hospital yesterday for some initial tests and the doctors diagnosed her condition as psychosomatic.
Well, Joyce lost consciousness again yesterday late on and so the ladies were taking here again today to the hospital demand a more thorough examination. If I need to go and “talk” to whoever, believe me I will. I’m not sure if the local hospital in Murang’a has the equipment to perform a scan of some kind, but if not we will make arrangements to get her to Thika or Nairobi. I will keep you all posted.
Yesterday afternoon we all paid a visit to St. Michael’s High School at the other end of our school track. The high school only opened 3 weeks ago and currently has 1 class of 24 students. We met the head master and the children, 8 of whom were at St. Anna last year and although not on the curriculum, I was asked if I would teach French. Sacré bleu…les pauvres enfants!
Not that I will refuse, but I was saved by my 4pm phone call to a company called Stack in Rhode Island to discuss working together to transform one of our shipping containers into a library and the other (if it ever arrives) into a clinic or teachers’ quarters. It looks like we’re gonna need about $7,5k per container… which when you consider the cost of doing the same with traditional materials isn’t too bad. They have the added advantage of being moveable and modular, so should we wish to expand we just plop another on top. Hmm…need to think it through a bit more.
Meanwhile as your general education is of great concern to me, I feel you should know that all of my adventures are taking place against the backdrop of a degrading political situation. To cut a long story short, after 2007’s disputed elections, President Kibaki & Prime Minister Odinga formed a coalition government. This has limped along from one argument to another for the last 2 years or so, and last Sunday appears to be the final straw for one of them. The prime minister suspended 2 ministers accused of corruption (corrupt MPs? Surely not!) only for President Kibaki to re-instate them a few hours later. The agriculture minister is alleged to be complicit in the disappearance of $26m earmarked for Maize, and the education minister in $1m destined for schools.
The Prime Minister has now decided he can no-longer work with the President and called for Kofin Annan to mediate (he must know I have my hands full) as there is a real chance of the coalition collapsing should this dispute not be resolved. More worrying as they both represent different ethnic groups there is then the risk of it all kicking off again (at this point I will be having a whip round for a flight home).
Finally, as you may have read in my last post, I have begun making a series of videos to show different aspects of the childrens’ daily lives here at the school e.g. dorms, fetching water, washing, cooking, picking mangos, the cross-bar challenge etc. If there is anything in particular you feel you would like to see, Thursdays are video day so please let me know and we will add it to the list. I probably won’t be able to upload them to the blog until I pop home in April, but they should be worth the wait.
Tuonane kesho (see you tomorrow)
PS: I found a good stick on the track at the weekend so over the last couple of days I have been sanding it down to make myself a walking staff. Tomorrow I will varnish it and then I will be able to tread the hills and valleys like a ginger Gandalf.
Monday, 15 February 2010
Projects - I am working you know!
I had a few texts over the weekend asking me what exactly am I doing. It seems that some of you are sceptical that I am doing anything except playing football and making impromptu speeches. Shame on you and your western cynicism!
So, doubting Thomases, here is the list of projects/activities we currently have on our to-do list. Please note, these are the projects linked directly to the school and not those for individual community members e.g. rebuilding Jane Wanjiku’s washed away house.
i. Child sponsorship: Find sponsors for the 10 children who have been on the waiting list for ages – Status: 90% complete (thanks to many of you)
– Cost: €17/month/child
ii. Rabbits: Establish a rabbit colony (is that the collection noun?) to teach the children the importance of looking after their animals, and to produce meat for the school & excess to be sold.
– Status: 50% (rabbit hutch designed & commissioned), rabbit supplier identified.
– Estimated Cost: €100
iii. Workshop: Set-up the metal- & woodwork shop
– Status: 60% complete (work shed partitioned, ventilation ducts added, power sockets installed, 3 phase electricity supply needed for the some of the more complex machines & welders remains to be acquired; estimated cost
– Estimated Cost: €10k (Aaaah! We are hoping our amazingly generous Swedish sponsors will help us out on this one)
iv. Library: Convert the container on site into a library for the school & community
– Status: 10% (at best). We have the container and tomorrow morning I am speaking to a gentlemen called Josh from a company called Stack based Rhode Island, USA who are experienced in designing and fabricating efficient, sustainable structures from shipping containers. They are keen to helps us on this and the 2 next projects.
– Estimated Cost: €TBD
v. Clinic: Open up a container clinic/dispensary/pharmacy on the school site accessible to the surrounding community as well as the school
– Status: 0%: Container to be located & project to planned and kicked off
– Estimated Cost: €TBD
vi. Teachers quarters: Many of the teachers work until late and cannot then get home. The idea is construct quarters for them, possibly by converting another shipping container, allowing those teachers to stay comfortably over night
– Status: 0%: Container to be located & project to planned and kicked off
– Estimated Cost: €TBD
vii. School Flag: The school currently does not have its own flag so the objective here is to design, fabricate and inaugurate a school flag by the end of T1 (to be chosen from drawings made by the children)
– Status: 33%: Short list of designs chosen from those submitted. More detailed design to be made by each of the chosen children and the winner to be chosen by the teachers and governors. We will then find someone in Nairobi who can design & produce it for us.
– Estimated Cost: €50
viii. Solar Power: Set-up a local solar cell sufficient enough to power the lights of the classes, dorms, assembly hall & kitchen when the national grid cuts off.
– Status: 20%: Competitive quote received. Next steps to be discussed with supplier in France and project plan to be defined.
– Estimated Cost: €3,5k
ix. Waterhole 1: Complete the first waterhole which was never cased properly
– Status: 0%
– Estimated Cost: €TBD
x. Waterhole 2: Drill and furnish a new waterhole
– Status: 0%
– Estimated Cost: €TBD
xi. School Choir: Establish a school choir which can eventually participate in festivals and competitions
– Status: 10%: First practice held last Saturday with Mr. Kuranja (the man in the video on the blog). Practices to be held every week
– Estimated Cost: €0
xi. Musical Instruments: Some of children (especially the boys) are not so keen on singing publicly and therefore hide at the back of the room drumming on desktops, bottles and bits of wood. We would like to procure some proper percussion instruments for them (tom-toms, maracas, triangle etc) and they could then support the choir.
– Status: 0%
– Estimated Cost: €150
xii. School Football Team & Kit: Select a school team which can then play other local teams and in local, regional and why not national competitions.
– Status: 10%: First trials to be held this Thursday, practices to be held every week thereafter. Hopefully there is a kit we can use on the parcel my Mum is sending.
– Estimated Cost: €50 (to adjust kits if needed)
xiii. Videos: We have started to make some short videos to show those outside the school different aspects of the childrens’ lives. I will put these on the blog (when I can get a decent connection) and the school website when it is complete.
– Status: 5%: Weekly video planning established & first subjects listed. Students to participate to in each video are being identified.
– Estimated Cost: €0
xiv. Biogas: Use the natural waste of the 200+ children and teachers (+ me now that I have stocked up on baked beans) to produce methane to fuel the school kitchen stoves
– Status: 0%: Contact made with a company who has already completed a similar project at Meru prison. A first discussion to be organised to learn more
– Cost: TBD (a pretty penny I imagine)
xv. Small scale fruit farmer’s project: Through a project sponsored by the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, we are trying to get our local passion fruit and mango farmers included in supplying their produced to Coca-Cola. This project is from June 2010.
– Status: 0%: Awaiting information including criteria for selection & recruitment to the project
– Cost: €0
xvi. Dry fruit production: Use the surplus mangos & bananas in the area to produce dried fruit which we can give to the children and if possible sell at market
– Status: 0%
– Estimated Cost: €150 one time set-up cost, €10/month recurring cost (for lemon juice)
There you go. Clearer?
Projects do have a habit of being added to the list quicker than they can be completed, so we are applying a certain cost-benefit analysis to them (we have already disregarded the landing strip and the swimming pool). Should any of you (or your companies) wish to help us towards any of them, your assistance is more than welcome.
Love to all,
Geshangi (the boy who likes to wander)
So, doubting Thomases, here is the list of projects/activities we currently have on our to-do list. Please note, these are the projects linked directly to the school and not those for individual community members e.g. rebuilding Jane Wanjiku’s washed away house.
i. Child sponsorship: Find sponsors for the 10 children who have been on the waiting list for ages – Status: 90% complete (thanks to many of you)
– Cost: €17/month/child
ii. Rabbits: Establish a rabbit colony (is that the collection noun?) to teach the children the importance of looking after their animals, and to produce meat for the school & excess to be sold.
– Status: 50% (rabbit hutch designed & commissioned), rabbit supplier identified.
– Estimated Cost: €100
iii. Workshop: Set-up the metal- & woodwork shop
– Status: 60% complete (work shed partitioned, ventilation ducts added, power sockets installed, 3 phase electricity supply needed for the some of the more complex machines & welders remains to be acquired; estimated cost
– Estimated Cost: €10k (Aaaah! We are hoping our amazingly generous Swedish sponsors will help us out on this one)
iv. Library: Convert the container on site into a library for the school & community
– Status: 10% (at best). We have the container and tomorrow morning I am speaking to a gentlemen called Josh from a company called Stack based Rhode Island, USA who are experienced in designing and fabricating efficient, sustainable structures from shipping containers. They are keen to helps us on this and the 2 next projects.
– Estimated Cost: €TBD
v. Clinic: Open up a container clinic/dispensary/pharmacy on the school site accessible to the surrounding community as well as the school
– Status: 0%: Container to be located & project to planned and kicked off
– Estimated Cost: €TBD
vi. Teachers quarters: Many of the teachers work until late and cannot then get home. The idea is construct quarters for them, possibly by converting another shipping container, allowing those teachers to stay comfortably over night
– Status: 0%: Container to be located & project to planned and kicked off
– Estimated Cost: €TBD
vii. School Flag: The school currently does not have its own flag so the objective here is to design, fabricate and inaugurate a school flag by the end of T1 (to be chosen from drawings made by the children)
– Status: 33%: Short list of designs chosen from those submitted. More detailed design to be made by each of the chosen children and the winner to be chosen by the teachers and governors. We will then find someone in Nairobi who can design & produce it for us.
– Estimated Cost: €50
viii. Solar Power: Set-up a local solar cell sufficient enough to power the lights of the classes, dorms, assembly hall & kitchen when the national grid cuts off.
– Status: 20%: Competitive quote received. Next steps to be discussed with supplier in France and project plan to be defined.
– Estimated Cost: €3,5k
ix. Waterhole 1: Complete the first waterhole which was never cased properly
– Status: 0%
– Estimated Cost: €TBD
x. Waterhole 2: Drill and furnish a new waterhole
– Status: 0%
– Estimated Cost: €TBD
xi. School Choir: Establish a school choir which can eventually participate in festivals and competitions
– Status: 10%: First practice held last Saturday with Mr. Kuranja (the man in the video on the blog). Practices to be held every week
– Estimated Cost: €0
xi. Musical Instruments: Some of children (especially the boys) are not so keen on singing publicly and therefore hide at the back of the room drumming on desktops, bottles and bits of wood. We would like to procure some proper percussion instruments for them (tom-toms, maracas, triangle etc) and they could then support the choir.
– Status: 0%
– Estimated Cost: €150
xii. School Football Team & Kit: Select a school team which can then play other local teams and in local, regional and why not national competitions.
– Status: 10%: First trials to be held this Thursday, practices to be held every week thereafter. Hopefully there is a kit we can use on the parcel my Mum is sending.
– Estimated Cost: €50 (to adjust kits if needed)
xiii. Videos: We have started to make some short videos to show those outside the school different aspects of the childrens’ lives. I will put these on the blog (when I can get a decent connection) and the school website when it is complete.
– Status: 5%: Weekly video planning established & first subjects listed. Students to participate to in each video are being identified.
– Estimated Cost: €0
xiv. Biogas: Use the natural waste of the 200+ children and teachers (+ me now that I have stocked up on baked beans) to produce methane to fuel the school kitchen stoves
– Status: 0%: Contact made with a company who has already completed a similar project at Meru prison. A first discussion to be organised to learn more
– Cost: TBD (a pretty penny I imagine)
xv. Small scale fruit farmer’s project: Through a project sponsored by the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, we are trying to get our local passion fruit and mango farmers included in supplying their produced to Coca-Cola. This project is from June 2010.
– Status: 0%: Awaiting information including criteria for selection & recruitment to the project
– Cost: €0
xvi. Dry fruit production: Use the surplus mangos & bananas in the area to produce dried fruit which we can give to the children and if possible sell at market
– Status: 0%
– Estimated Cost: €150 one time set-up cost, €10/month recurring cost (for lemon juice)
There you go. Clearer?
Projects do have a habit of being added to the list quicker than they can be completed, so we are applying a certain cost-benefit analysis to them (we have already disregarded the landing strip and the swimming pool). Should any of you (or your companies) wish to help us towards any of them, your assistance is more than welcome.
Love to all,
Geshangi (the boy who likes to wander)
Saturday, 13 February 2010
Eclectic day
Apologies in advance for the long post hereafter, but so much happened yesterday. Also, I’m really getting into this Blog caper and find myself getting carried away with it from time to time. But I am sure you’ll grant me this small pleasure as it is after all Friday night and I am writing this with zero chance of getting a nice cold beer. Where are you?!
I agreed to get up very early this morning and accompany James across the valley to Kiambugi High School for Boys which sits atop the hill opposite us (he’s scared of the vampires :-). I can actually see Kiambugi from my front porch and so, having been here for 2 weeks, it thought it high time that should go and see our scholastic neighbours.
Although it was 07h30 as we walked down our side of the valley I was very happy with my decision to go with James … come 07h35 we were walking up the other side and I was regretting every step. James had a date with the school assembly to talk to boys about “the blessed man” and what he does & doesn’t do (apart from get up at 07h00 to walk across a valley). It really is no wonder that the Kenyans have such powerful legs and are such strong runners when you see the terrain up in this part of Kenya and the journeys the children take to and from school (often barefooted).
Kiambugi is a much larger school than St. Anna … but so are the children; they age from 13 & 18. It has recently been taken over by a new school principal (known as Mr. Principal) who is slowly turning things around from its not so impressive recent past. The school now currently has 260 students but has a capacity of 600.
After the boys had assembled, the traditional raising of the Kenyan flag commenced. Once unfurled the school broke into a stirring rendition of the Kenyan National Anthem. To the tune of the Kenyan National Anthem, the words are:
Oh God of all creation,
Bless this land and nation,
Justice be our shield and defender,
May we dwell in unity, peace & liberty,
Plenty be found within our borders
James then bounded onto the podium and bid the boys a very good morning. Barely had I had time to catch my breath from the hike, when I heard him calling my name. To my surprise he was beckoning me to introduce myself to the boys. Never one to pass up an opportunity to address a crowd (win the crowd and win your freedom), I gladly obliged. Unfortunately my brief introduction started badly, tailed off in the middle and the least said about the ending the better…but apart from that it was excellent. It was however received to generous applause…especially the word Manchester. Indeed, I have found the word Manchester sends most Kenya boys into a kind of fevered delirium. It is deeply worrying for the future of the nation, that most of the young men support Manchester Utd. If Liverpool’s parcel of goodies ever shows up I will begin converting them mark my words.
Back to the blessed man. The main purpose of the visit was for James to talk to the boys about the “blessed man”. For those who are interested, according to James (and Psalms Ch1, V1-3), blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands with sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers. I couldn’t help thinking of my ex-bosses as I listened to James’s speech.
Mr. Principal closed proceedings with the following question to the students: “Your brain & life is an empty book. Are you writing a best-seller or a trashy novel?” Are you indeed?
Following assembly we adjourned to the staff room for tea. Now let me tell you about tea. Many people associate Kenya with coffee, and you’d be right to do so as they produce a lot; we even have some in our garden. But it is a cash crop and destined purely for export. No-one here actually drinks the stuff. They do however drink tea by the bucket, but not quite as we know it. It is prepared with milk … and when I say prepared with milk I mean they put a tea-bag in a cup of hot milk. This makes it difficult to drink without a little sugar. Now, it is a fact that sugar is expensive here and therefore a precious commodity. So when you go and visit a family or a school and they serve you tea with sugar you are honoured (you may be way ahead of me by now). The more they wish to honour you, the more sugar you get in your tea.
I was very honoured this morning!
As I sat in the staff room sipping my sugar, I couldn’t help noticing on the blackboard that the following students left the school on Friday without permission:
. Evanson Mwanga
. Levis Mwanga
. Daniel Mwanga (the whole family?)
. Michael Maina
. Moses Karuiki
. Duncan Mbatha
So if you seen them please contact Kiambugi High School.
We finished our time at Kiambugi with a tour of the school and grounds (they even bake their own bread you know), and a sit down chat with Mr. Principal. He was delighted that we had come to visit. He asked me to sign the visitors book and promise to return frequently to speak to the boys as it makes them feel special and I “will surely be role model for them” (keep your comments to yourself please). Agreeing whole-heartedly, Mr. Principal called for more tea!
To be serious, a visitor from outside Kenya is SO welcome. The fact that you have taken time out to come to their country and further more you are taking time to see & talk with them is really appreciated. It doesn’t have to be formal lessons or something structured, just answering their questions and explaining how life is back home is enough. Note for housemate Matt … I signed you up to give physics classes.
We left Kiambugi promising to return soon (James has just informed me that we will be going on Sunday), and made our way to an old local lady’s home that is beginning to flood and get washed away when it rains. She showed us around pointing out all the places where the she had plugged holes with plastic bags to prevent the water rushing in.
She lives with her two grandchildren who attend St. Anna live in the worst conditions I have seen so far; with no light, little ventilation, and a small kitchen belching out smoke that fills the other rooms.
Although the mason is currently working flat out to complete the boys’ dormitory, we promised to return as soon as possible with him so he can decide what precisely needs to be done: repair or build her new home. I know which one gets my vote.
On the way back to St. Anna, James and I parted ways as he was off to teach a bible class at the public primary school at the end of our track. Just as I was about to get to school, I heard my name being hollered over the hedge and then the face our neighbour Henderson peering around his gate. “Wimwega Mathayo!” (Good day Matthew) … “you must come and see my home and shamba (garden)”. As the man carrying the large machete is always right, I accepted.
Henderson proudly gave me the guided tour of his home and introduced me to his mother with whom he also lived. The Kenya culture dictates that when a boy reaches 13 he is circumcised, and from then even if he still lives with his mother, he must move out into a hut of his own as he is now a man. Henderson must be a least 40.
Having made the acquaintance of his mother, his dog, his cat and his cow, Henderson then asked me if I liked mangos. In case you do not know, January to March is mango season. The trees are practically buckling under the weight and you can pick them off the branches and eat them as you walk. If you cannot reach them you can throw a stick or another fallen mango into the tree to knock down more…just like conkers back home.
Buoyed by my response, Henderson handed me a plastic bag and told me to follow him to the bottom of his garden. There standing majestically at the foot of the hill was the mother of all Mango trees. With a wink, Henderson disappeared up it and began shaking the branches. It was literally raining mangos. In a matter of seconds the bag was overflowing.
As Henderson would not hear of keeping any for himself, I now have 31 mangos in my cupboard. One thing you notice very quickly here is that everyone shares everything. Even though most people have next to nothing, they will gladly share their next to nothing with you. In Paris we have everything and we don’t share anything.
The remainder of the day was a much more sombre affair. The funeral of the watchman’s wife Jane took place in the afternoon. When I arrived at the watchman’s house there was already quite a turnout; I counted about 50 to 60 people.
Rural Kenyan houses are invariably constructed around a central courtyard, and it was here that the closed coffin of Jane had been placed. I took a spot at the back of the congregation from where I could follow the proceedings and waited to the vicar to arrive.
Seated at the front and around the coffin were Jane’s immediately family and close friends including the Bishop & Mama (his wife). It was at this moment that the Bishop caught my eye. What happened next was all a bit of a blur. The next thing I know, I am being ushered to the front of the congregation and told to sit in the vacant seat at the right hand of the vicar. To be clear, I am now nearer to the coffin than the family. I have no illusion of the tremendous honour that was being bestowed upon me, but I did feel a little uneasy all the same. It was only when the watchman smiled at me that I was able to relax again.
I was very glad to see the vicar arrive and the ceremony begin. The service took place in Kikuyu with many people standing to say a few words or sing or recount tales of Jane. I recognised some of speakers as St. Anna school governors, then Mama and then Bishop. I wouldn’t have understood much had Mr. Waigi the school administrator not been translating everything in my left ear. It was just then that I noticed the speakers were getting mighty close to where I was sat, and it was no sooner that I thought to myself, please don’t ask me to make a speech, that the Bishop asked me to make a speech.
With Mr. Waigi translating, I introduced myself to the congregation and recounted the only memory I had of Jane. I told them of our visit to her home last November and the hospitality she had shown us. How we sat right here in the courtyard together and talked and taken photos. I was too ashamed to tell them that she had told us of her ailment and that I had done nothing.
After the speeches, Jane’s coffin was carried to the garden where a grave had been prepared for burial. I paid my respects to the family and departed, promising to come and visit them very soon. And I will.
As I sit on my porch writing this and reflecting on the day, it feels like I have been here for a lifetime. So much seems to have happened. It also seems to me that there is no such thing as routine here in Kenya; everyday is a challenge.
From where I sit I can see St. Anna and hear the children laughing and singing. I can hear the carpenters hammering to complete the workshop; I can see the stone-masons John and Matthew sat on top of an ever growing pile of stones for the dormitory. Across the valley I can see Kiambugi high school and I think of the Principal working hard to realise his vision for the school and the boys.
Obama was right in his state of the union address, “the best anti poverty programme is a world class education” and it occurs to me that maybe we have never been as hopeful about the school & the children as we are today.
I agreed to get up very early this morning and accompany James across the valley to Kiambugi High School for Boys which sits atop the hill opposite us (he’s scared of the vampires :-). I can actually see Kiambugi from my front porch and so, having been here for 2 weeks, it thought it high time that should go and see our scholastic neighbours.
Although it was 07h30 as we walked down our side of the valley I was very happy with my decision to go with James … come 07h35 we were walking up the other side and I was regretting every step. James had a date with the school assembly to talk to boys about “the blessed man” and what he does & doesn’t do (apart from get up at 07h00 to walk across a valley). It really is no wonder that the Kenyans have such powerful legs and are such strong runners when you see the terrain up in this part of Kenya and the journeys the children take to and from school (often barefooted).
Kiambugi is a much larger school than St. Anna … but so are the children; they age from 13 & 18. It has recently been taken over by a new school principal (known as Mr. Principal) who is slowly turning things around from its not so impressive recent past. The school now currently has 260 students but has a capacity of 600.
After the boys had assembled, the traditional raising of the Kenyan flag commenced. Once unfurled the school broke into a stirring rendition of the Kenyan National Anthem. To the tune of the Kenyan National Anthem, the words are:
Oh God of all creation,
Bless this land and nation,
Justice be our shield and defender,
May we dwell in unity, peace & liberty,
Plenty be found within our borders
James then bounded onto the podium and bid the boys a very good morning. Barely had I had time to catch my breath from the hike, when I heard him calling my name. To my surprise he was beckoning me to introduce myself to the boys. Never one to pass up an opportunity to address a crowd (win the crowd and win your freedom), I gladly obliged. Unfortunately my brief introduction started badly, tailed off in the middle and the least said about the ending the better…but apart from that it was excellent. It was however received to generous applause…especially the word Manchester. Indeed, I have found the word Manchester sends most Kenya boys into a kind of fevered delirium. It is deeply worrying for the future of the nation, that most of the young men support Manchester Utd. If Liverpool’s parcel of goodies ever shows up I will begin converting them mark my words.
Back to the blessed man. The main purpose of the visit was for James to talk to the boys about the “blessed man”. For those who are interested, according to James (and Psalms Ch1, V1-3), blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands with sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers. I couldn’t help thinking of my ex-bosses as I listened to James’s speech.
Mr. Principal closed proceedings with the following question to the students: “Your brain & life is an empty book. Are you writing a best-seller or a trashy novel?” Are you indeed?
Following assembly we adjourned to the staff room for tea. Now let me tell you about tea. Many people associate Kenya with coffee, and you’d be right to do so as they produce a lot; we even have some in our garden. But it is a cash crop and destined purely for export. No-one here actually drinks the stuff. They do however drink tea by the bucket, but not quite as we know it. It is prepared with milk … and when I say prepared with milk I mean they put a tea-bag in a cup of hot milk. This makes it difficult to drink without a little sugar. Now, it is a fact that sugar is expensive here and therefore a precious commodity. So when you go and visit a family or a school and they serve you tea with sugar you are honoured (you may be way ahead of me by now). The more they wish to honour you, the more sugar you get in your tea.
I was very honoured this morning!
As I sat in the staff room sipping my sugar, I couldn’t help noticing on the blackboard that the following students left the school on Friday without permission:
. Evanson Mwanga
. Levis Mwanga
. Daniel Mwanga (the whole family?)
. Michael Maina
. Moses Karuiki
. Duncan Mbatha
So if you seen them please contact Kiambugi High School.
We finished our time at Kiambugi with a tour of the school and grounds (they even bake their own bread you know), and a sit down chat with Mr. Principal. He was delighted that we had come to visit. He asked me to sign the visitors book and promise to return frequently to speak to the boys as it makes them feel special and I “will surely be role model for them” (keep your comments to yourself please). Agreeing whole-heartedly, Mr. Principal called for more tea!
To be serious, a visitor from outside Kenya is SO welcome. The fact that you have taken time out to come to their country and further more you are taking time to see & talk with them is really appreciated. It doesn’t have to be formal lessons or something structured, just answering their questions and explaining how life is back home is enough. Note for housemate Matt … I signed you up to give physics classes.
We left Kiambugi promising to return soon (James has just informed me that we will be going on Sunday), and made our way to an old local lady’s home that is beginning to flood and get washed away when it rains. She showed us around pointing out all the places where the she had plugged holes with plastic bags to prevent the water rushing in.
She lives with her two grandchildren who attend St. Anna live in the worst conditions I have seen so far; with no light, little ventilation, and a small kitchen belching out smoke that fills the other rooms.
Although the mason is currently working flat out to complete the boys’ dormitory, we promised to return as soon as possible with him so he can decide what precisely needs to be done: repair or build her new home. I know which one gets my vote.
On the way back to St. Anna, James and I parted ways as he was off to teach a bible class at the public primary school at the end of our track. Just as I was about to get to school, I heard my name being hollered over the hedge and then the face our neighbour Henderson peering around his gate. “Wimwega Mathayo!” (Good day Matthew) … “you must come and see my home and shamba (garden)”. As the man carrying the large machete is always right, I accepted.
Henderson proudly gave me the guided tour of his home and introduced me to his mother with whom he also lived. The Kenya culture dictates that when a boy reaches 13 he is circumcised, and from then even if he still lives with his mother, he must move out into a hut of his own as he is now a man. Henderson must be a least 40.
Having made the acquaintance of his mother, his dog, his cat and his cow, Henderson then asked me if I liked mangos. In case you do not know, January to March is mango season. The trees are practically buckling under the weight and you can pick them off the branches and eat them as you walk. If you cannot reach them you can throw a stick or another fallen mango into the tree to knock down more…just like conkers back home.
Buoyed by my response, Henderson handed me a plastic bag and told me to follow him to the bottom of his garden. There standing majestically at the foot of the hill was the mother of all Mango trees. With a wink, Henderson disappeared up it and began shaking the branches. It was literally raining mangos. In a matter of seconds the bag was overflowing.
As Henderson would not hear of keeping any for himself, I now have 31 mangos in my cupboard. One thing you notice very quickly here is that everyone shares everything. Even though most people have next to nothing, they will gladly share their next to nothing with you. In Paris we have everything and we don’t share anything.
The remainder of the day was a much more sombre affair. The funeral of the watchman’s wife Jane took place in the afternoon. When I arrived at the watchman’s house there was already quite a turnout; I counted about 50 to 60 people.
Rural Kenyan houses are invariably constructed around a central courtyard, and it was here that the closed coffin of Jane had been placed. I took a spot at the back of the congregation from where I could follow the proceedings and waited to the vicar to arrive.
Seated at the front and around the coffin were Jane’s immediately family and close friends including the Bishop & Mama (his wife). It was at this moment that the Bishop caught my eye. What happened next was all a bit of a blur. The next thing I know, I am being ushered to the front of the congregation and told to sit in the vacant seat at the right hand of the vicar. To be clear, I am now nearer to the coffin than the family. I have no illusion of the tremendous honour that was being bestowed upon me, but I did feel a little uneasy all the same. It was only when the watchman smiled at me that I was able to relax again.
I was very glad to see the vicar arrive and the ceremony begin. The service took place in Kikuyu with many people standing to say a few words or sing or recount tales of Jane. I recognised some of speakers as St. Anna school governors, then Mama and then Bishop. I wouldn’t have understood much had Mr. Waigi the school administrator not been translating everything in my left ear. It was just then that I noticed the speakers were getting mighty close to where I was sat, and it was no sooner that I thought to myself, please don’t ask me to make a speech, that the Bishop asked me to make a speech.
With Mr. Waigi translating, I introduced myself to the congregation and recounted the only memory I had of Jane. I told them of our visit to her home last November and the hospitality she had shown us. How we sat right here in the courtyard together and talked and taken photos. I was too ashamed to tell them that she had told us of her ailment and that I had done nothing.
After the speeches, Jane’s coffin was carried to the garden where a grave had been prepared for burial. I paid my respects to the family and departed, promising to come and visit them very soon. And I will.
As I sit on my porch writing this and reflecting on the day, it feels like I have been here for a lifetime. So much seems to have happened. It also seems to me that there is no such thing as routine here in Kenya; everyday is a challenge.
From where I sit I can see St. Anna and hear the children laughing and singing. I can hear the carpenters hammering to complete the workshop; I can see the stone-masons John and Matthew sat on top of an ever growing pile of stones for the dormitory. Across the valley I can see Kiambugi high school and I think of the Principal working hard to realise his vision for the school and the boys.
Obama was right in his state of the union address, “the best anti poverty programme is a world class education” and it occurs to me that maybe we have never been as hopeful about the school & the children as we are today.
Friday, 12 February 2010
Cost of living
Would you be interested in having an idea of how much it costs to buy stuff here? Of course you would. Lucky then that I retained my receipt from the supermarket.
When I looked it up last night, the exchange rate between the Kenyan Shilling and the British Pound was : 120 KES = £1.00. According to one of the girls in class 6, that means I need to divide all the Kenyan prices by 120 to get the price in pounds (it’s very complicated). So here is my shopping list with the original Kenyan price and the corresponding price in sterling:
. Mixed fruit drink: KES139 or £1.16
. Salt 500g: KES10 or £0.08 (I know! I calculated that one 3x as I couldn’t believe it either)
. White paper serviettes (100): KES60 or £0.50
. Cotton ear buds: KES 59 or £0.49
. Kleenex toilet paper (4 rolls): KES105 or £0.88
. Washing up soap: KES70 of £0.58
. Rice 2kg: KES250 or £2.08
. Sugar 500g: KES95 or £0.79
. Bar of soap (Cussons’ Imperial Leather I’ll have you know): KES64 or £0.53
. Penne pasta 400g: KES79 or £0.66
. Cooking oil 1l: KES122 or £1.02
. Scouring pad: KES38 or £0.32
. Honey 500g Jar: KES160 or £1.33
. Blue Band Margarine 250g (remember that?): KES48 or £0.40
. Loaf of brown sliced bread: KES57 or £0.48
. Harpic toilet bleach 500ml (triple strength mind you): KES131 or £1.09
. Clothes washing soup: KES67 or £0.56
. Washing up sponge: KES35 or £0.29
. Tin of Heinz baked beans (beans means Heinz): KES106 or £0.88
. 2 Bottle of water (3l): KES210 or £1.75
. Bottle of water (500ml) to drink whilst sweating carrying all of the above: KES20 or £0.17
Grand total: KES1925 or £16.04
Does that sound reasonable to you? Having lived in Paris for the last 11 years and one time spending €60 on 4 cod fillets, I have completely lost touch with reality, but it seems good value to me. The beans seem a bit steep but they are more than cancelled out by the not possibly possible low price of salt (Kuna kosa kwenye bili - there's a mistake with the bill)
Finally some other commodities that might make into your weekly shopping trolley:
. Kilo of beef: KES300 or £2.50
. Mango: KES25 or £0.21 (or 1p, yes that’s 1p, if you pick them up from a boy on the road)
. Foot pump: KES295 or £2.46
. Baby chickens: KES75 or £0.63
. Cow: KES15000 or £125.00 (any farmers amongst you? Is that a good deal?)
I’ll have to find the price of a Big Mac and a beer…probably easier for most of you to relate to!
PS: Did you know they also have 3 different coins for the 1 Kenyan shilling? That’s confusing.
When I looked it up last night, the exchange rate between the Kenyan Shilling and the British Pound was : 120 KES = £1.00. According to one of the girls in class 6, that means I need to divide all the Kenyan prices by 120 to get the price in pounds (it’s very complicated). So here is my shopping list with the original Kenyan price and the corresponding price in sterling:
. Mixed fruit drink: KES139 or £1.16
. Salt 500g: KES10 or £0.08 (I know! I calculated that one 3x as I couldn’t believe it either)
. White paper serviettes (100): KES60 or £0.50
. Cotton ear buds: KES 59 or £0.49
. Kleenex toilet paper (4 rolls): KES105 or £0.88
. Washing up soap: KES70 of £0.58
. Rice 2kg: KES250 or £2.08
. Sugar 500g: KES95 or £0.79
. Bar of soap (Cussons’ Imperial Leather I’ll have you know): KES64 or £0.53
. Penne pasta 400g: KES79 or £0.66
. Cooking oil 1l: KES122 or £1.02
. Scouring pad: KES38 or £0.32
. Honey 500g Jar: KES160 or £1.33
. Blue Band Margarine 250g (remember that?): KES48 or £0.40
. Loaf of brown sliced bread: KES57 or £0.48
. Harpic toilet bleach 500ml (triple strength mind you): KES131 or £1.09
. Clothes washing soup: KES67 or £0.56
. Washing up sponge: KES35 or £0.29
. Tin of Heinz baked beans (beans means Heinz): KES106 or £0.88
. 2 Bottle of water (3l): KES210 or £1.75
. Bottle of water (500ml) to drink whilst sweating carrying all of the above: KES20 or £0.17
Grand total: KES1925 or £16.04
Does that sound reasonable to you? Having lived in Paris for the last 11 years and one time spending €60 on 4 cod fillets, I have completely lost touch with reality, but it seems good value to me. The beans seem a bit steep but they are more than cancelled out by the not possibly possible low price of salt (Kuna kosa kwenye bili - there's a mistake with the bill)
Finally some other commodities that might make into your weekly shopping trolley:
. Kilo of beef: KES300 or £2.50
. Mango: KES25 or £0.21 (or 1p, yes that’s 1p, if you pick them up from a boy on the road)
. Foot pump: KES295 or £2.46
. Baby chickens: KES75 or £0.63
. Cow: KES15000 or £125.00 (any farmers amongst you? Is that a good deal?)
I’ll have to find the price of a Big Mac and a beer…probably easier for most of you to relate to!
PS: Did you know they also have 3 different coins for the 1 Kenyan shilling? That’s confusing.
Thursday, 11 February 2010
Good news for Agnes & Jennifer
Yesterday, Agnes came to the school again but this time with her daughter Jennifer (plus an enormous bag of mangos & avocados). Jennifer had come from Nairobi in order to spend some time with her family and also to meet the Bishop & teachers of the school.
Visibly tired, Jennifer confirmed everything that Agnes had told us. It was clearly painful for Jennifer to recall the experiences she had been through so we did not wish to dwell on them for any longer than necessary.
Following the posting of the story of Agnes on the blog, 6 people got in touch offering to sponsor Allen. So yesterday was the occasion to inform Agnes and Jennifer of the decision. This is without doubt the best part of being here. To see the look on their faces and their reaction when they were informed that Allen will not only be admitted to the school but also sponsored was is indescribable. They were quite simply overcome with joy. Jennifer broke down in tears, as did Agnes when Jennifer translated what I had told her.
It was an honour and a pleasure to be the bearer of glad tidings after all they have been through. It was quite simply the most rewarding moment of my life. It was better than any raise or any award I have received. Maybe you have been lucky enough to experience something similar; I hope so. If not, I can only hope that you too can enjoy a moment and sentiment like that one day. For those of you who have asked to sponsor a child, it’ll come when you meet them for the first time.
You can keep your steering committees; you can keep your risk logs. You can keep your touch base and reach out, your ramp up and trickle down, your buy-in and opt out, your hokey cokey and your turn around ... yesterday’s what it’s all about, oi!
Visibly tired, Jennifer confirmed everything that Agnes had told us. It was clearly painful for Jennifer to recall the experiences she had been through so we did not wish to dwell on them for any longer than necessary.
Following the posting of the story of Agnes on the blog, 6 people got in touch offering to sponsor Allen. So yesterday was the occasion to inform Agnes and Jennifer of the decision. This is without doubt the best part of being here. To see the look on their faces and their reaction when they were informed that Allen will not only be admitted to the school but also sponsored was is indescribable. They were quite simply overcome with joy. Jennifer broke down in tears, as did Agnes when Jennifer translated what I had told her.
It was an honour and a pleasure to be the bearer of glad tidings after all they have been through. It was quite simply the most rewarding moment of my life. It was better than any raise or any award I have received. Maybe you have been lucky enough to experience something similar; I hope so. If not, I can only hope that you too can enjoy a moment and sentiment like that one day. For those of you who have asked to sponsor a child, it’ll come when you meet them for the first time.
You can keep your steering committees; you can keep your risk logs. You can keep your touch base and reach out, your ramp up and trickle down, your buy-in and opt out, your hokey cokey and your turn around ... yesterday’s what it’s all about, oi!
Tuesday, 9 February 2010
Sponsoring a Child
Morning!
Several people have contacted me over the last week inquiring how to sponsor a child here at the school. Thank you!
First of all, here are some FAQs regarding sponsorship here at St. Anna:
Q. How much does it cost to sponsor a child?
A. Sponsoring a child costs KES2000 per month (this is approximately £17. I will find you the precise conversions in $ and €)
Q. What does the money go toward?
A. The money goes towards the child’s food, uniform, exercise books, stationery and exam registration
Q. What % if any goes to admin fees?
A. Approximately 16%
Q. Who / Where do I pay the money to?
A. If you are in the UK or Europe you can set-up a monthly direct debit (virement pour les français) for the correct amount to the schools charitable account in the UK. If you are in the USA a transfer would need to be established with the Consolidated Bank of Kenya
Q. How long does the sponsorship run?
A. The sponsorship period can vary. For example most of the US & UK sponsors we have continue supporting the child until he/she goes to University (if that is the path they choose). Some also continue sponsoring through University. However, in contrast our Swedish sponsors prefer to end their sponsorship when the child leaves college (before University), and begin again with another child at St. Anna.
Should you wish to go ahead and sponsor a child, here are the details / steps:
1) Send me a mail to mattadamsmith@hotmail.com with the following information:
a. Confirm your wish to become a sponsor
b. Indicate how many children you would like to support should you wish to sponsor more than 1
c. Whether you have a preference of the sex of the child (you may have a son or daughter of your own with whom you would like them to correspond)
2) Your request will be matched with the waiting list of children (please note that there is a waiting list and children move up the list in order irrespective of age).
3) The child’s guardian will then be contacted by us to inform them of the sponsorship
4) In parallel we will send you the details of the bank account to set-up the monthly transfer
What happens from there?
1) Children write to sponsors a minimum of 2x per term (6 times in the year)
2) Sponsors may write as often as they like
3) All letters are addressed to a country coordinator who sends them on in both directions. Experience has taught us that this is the best way for sponsors to avoid receiving many letters requesting “I’d like a bike”; “I’d like a watch”; “I’d like a Mr. Frosty” (ok so that last one is just me).
4) Sponsors may of course send gifts, but please ensure that all duty is paid. Sorry to be so categorical, but we have often had to pay a hefty customs bill when we’ve been to pick up parcels at the post office.
I trust this provides you with the information you require. But please do not hesitate to contact me should you have any further questions. You can still reach me also on +33 680 33 40 65 for the next 2 weeks before my company cut me off!
Tugire chai (let’s go for tea)
Several people have contacted me over the last week inquiring how to sponsor a child here at the school. Thank you!
First of all, here are some FAQs regarding sponsorship here at St. Anna:
Q. How much does it cost to sponsor a child?
A. Sponsoring a child costs KES2000 per month (this is approximately £17. I will find you the precise conversions in $ and €)
Q. What does the money go toward?
A. The money goes towards the child’s food, uniform, exercise books, stationery and exam registration
Q. What % if any goes to admin fees?
A. Approximately 16%
Q. Who / Where do I pay the money to?
A. If you are in the UK or Europe you can set-up a monthly direct debit (virement pour les français) for the correct amount to the schools charitable account in the UK. If you are in the USA a transfer would need to be established with the Consolidated Bank of Kenya
Q. How long does the sponsorship run?
A. The sponsorship period can vary. For example most of the US & UK sponsors we have continue supporting the child until he/she goes to University (if that is the path they choose). Some also continue sponsoring through University. However, in contrast our Swedish sponsors prefer to end their sponsorship when the child leaves college (before University), and begin again with another child at St. Anna.
Should you wish to go ahead and sponsor a child, here are the details / steps:
1) Send me a mail to mattadamsmith@hotmail.com with the following information:
a. Confirm your wish to become a sponsor
b. Indicate how many children you would like to support should you wish to sponsor more than 1
c. Whether you have a preference of the sex of the child (you may have a son or daughter of your own with whom you would like them to correspond)
2) Your request will be matched with the waiting list of children (please note that there is a waiting list and children move up the list in order irrespective of age).
3) The child’s guardian will then be contacted by us to inform them of the sponsorship
4) In parallel we will send you the details of the bank account to set-up the monthly transfer
What happens from there?
1) Children write to sponsors a minimum of 2x per term (6 times in the year)
2) Sponsors may write as often as they like
3) All letters are addressed to a country coordinator who sends them on in both directions. Experience has taught us that this is the best way for sponsors to avoid receiving many letters requesting “I’d like a bike”; “I’d like a watch”; “I’d like a Mr. Frosty” (ok so that last one is just me).
4) Sponsors may of course send gifts, but please ensure that all duty is paid. Sorry to be so categorical, but we have often had to pay a hefty customs bill when we’ve been to pick up parcels at the post office.
I trust this provides you with the information you require. But please do not hesitate to contact me should you have any further questions. You can still reach me also on +33 680 33 40 65 for the next 2 weeks before my company cut me off!
Tugire chai (let’s go for tea)
Monday, 8 February 2010
Sad news this morning
We awoke this morning to the sad news that the wife of one of our watchmen had passed away during the night.
When I was here in November, Jane (the school welfare rep) took Jo, her mum and me to visit her and at that time she was complaining of problems with her feet. She showed us her feet which were very swollen and the skin flaky. When we asked whether she had been for treatment, she told us that she could not get to the dispensary and even if she could she could not afford the treatment (which was about £3 if I recall).
Maybe you can imagine how I feel right now. More than a little hand ringing as I ask myself why I didn’t go down to the pharmacy for her back in November. I realise that this may have cured little except my conscience. Her ailment may well have been untreatable, but I should have acted.
The cultural differences, the electricity blackouts, the bucket showers, the spiders, they are nothing to the problem I am having accepting that you cannot help everyone. People tell you that you have to draw the line somewhere. This may be a truism, but tell that this morning to the watchman who is already working 20+ hours a day and now has to support 3 children on his own on €30 a month.
Why should we have to draw the line at where we stop helping people? Surely if there is one line that we should never have to draw it is where to stop helping people. I understand the finite resources argument; I understand the market failure argument. The market failure argument can explain why more money is spent on treating baldness than on malaria ... there is “no money” in malaria. But explaining it does not justify it. It is not “right”.
Call me naïve and idealistic but I don’t see multinationals drawing a line; I don’t hear companies saying to their shareholders: “You know what? We have made enough money for this year…so we are drawing a line.”
If I sound angry or a little bit bitter, it’s because but I am. Sigh. Much of the school is in mourning and now we have a funeral to organise.
When I was here in November, Jane (the school welfare rep) took Jo, her mum and me to visit her and at that time she was complaining of problems with her feet. She showed us her feet which were very swollen and the skin flaky. When we asked whether she had been for treatment, she told us that she could not get to the dispensary and even if she could she could not afford the treatment (which was about £3 if I recall).
Maybe you can imagine how I feel right now. More than a little hand ringing as I ask myself why I didn’t go down to the pharmacy for her back in November. I realise that this may have cured little except my conscience. Her ailment may well have been untreatable, but I should have acted.
The cultural differences, the electricity blackouts, the bucket showers, the spiders, they are nothing to the problem I am having accepting that you cannot help everyone. People tell you that you have to draw the line somewhere. This may be a truism, but tell that this morning to the watchman who is already working 20+ hours a day and now has to support 3 children on his own on €30 a month.
Why should we have to draw the line at where we stop helping people? Surely if there is one line that we should never have to draw it is where to stop helping people. I understand the finite resources argument; I understand the market failure argument. The market failure argument can explain why more money is spent on treating baldness than on malaria ... there is “no money” in malaria. But explaining it does not justify it. It is not “right”.
Call me naïve and idealistic but I don’t see multinationals drawing a line; I don’t hear companies saying to their shareholders: “You know what? We have made enough money for this year…so we are drawing a line.”
If I sound angry or a little bit bitter, it’s because but I am. Sigh. Much of the school is in mourning and now we have a funeral to organise.
Sunday, 7 February 2010
Sponsoring a child
Several people have contacted me over the last few days inquiring how to sponsor a child here at the school. First of all, thank you!
I have started putting together a doc. outlining the steps/procedure to do this and once it has been validated by those who are infinitely more qualified than I, I will post it.
I have started putting together a doc. outlining the steps/procedure to do this and once it has been validated by those who are infinitely more qualified than I, I will post it.
Thought for the day
“To the Excellencies and officials of Europe: We suffer enormously in Africa. Help us. We have problems in Africa. We lack rights as children. We have war and illness, we lack food … We want to study, and we ask you to help us to study so we can be like you, in Africa.”
Message found on the bodies of Guinean teenagers Yaguine Koita and Fode Tounkana, stowaways who died attempting to reach Europe in the landing gear of an airliner.
Message found on the bodies of Guinean teenagers Yaguine Koita and Fode Tounkana, stowaways who died attempting to reach Europe in the landing gear of an airliner.
Saturday, 6 February 2010
Agnes' Story : Chapter 1 - Her daughter’s family
Agnes recently came to the St. Anna Day Care Centre to request assistance and if possible sponsorship for one of the children she is taking care of. James and I first spoke with Agnes on the 3rd February at the school to understand her situation and today we were invited to her home to meet her family. So we walked to the end of the school track and squeezed into an overcrowded Mutatu (one of an armada of battered privately run mini buses that ply the road to Murang’a town). Ours proudly proclaimed “I am the Jah messenger. We wear the crown, we rule the town” … word!
Agnes met us as the appropriate point and she guided us across the valley to her home. This is where my levity stops as what follows is her and her family’s account of how until recently she came to be supporting 2 families in addition to her own: her daughter’s and her daughter’s friend’s family
Chapter 1: Her daughter’s family
Agnes Kinuthia is 68 years old and married to Moses who is 70. She is the mother of 6 children, including her daughters Jennifer and Beatrice.
Until January 2009 Jennifer was living in the town of Naivasha which is approximately 90 miles to the west of Nairobi. Jennifer, a tailor by trade, was married to Paul for 18 years and has 3 children: Angela (18), Annette (12) & Allan (6). Living near a predominantly Muslim community Paul slowly stopped going to church and eventually converted to Islam. As a staunch Christian, Jennifer was very angry and from then on refused to serve him and wash his Aba (Islamic robe worn over clothes).
Although Allen is too young to recollect, Annette remembers clearly what happened next.
The domestic situation deteriorated rapidly as Jennifer continued to refuse Paul’s demands to convert to Islam and their relationship became increasing hostile and confrontational. Annette recalls that there was “much violence between mum & dad” especially on one occasion when Jennifer burnt Paul’s Aba.
Paul also began to force the 3 children to attend the local madrasah where in Annette’s words “we were very uncomfortable”, so Jennifer decided to run away with the children. She took all the money she had tied up in the garments she had made and fled with Angela, Annette & Allen to her mother’s home in Murang’a, where they lived for 3 years.
During that time they had no word from Paul, until one day he arrived at Agnes’ home telling them that he had reconverted to Christianity and wanted Jennifer and the children to return with him to Naivasha. Believing him for sincere, Agnes & Moses agreed to his request. Unfortunately for Jennifer and the children, it was just a charade to lure them back. As soon as they we back in Navaisha things picked up where they had left off.
It was then that events in Kenya overtook everything. Late 2008 were exceptional times in the recent history of Kenya. Elections were held on the 27th December of year 2007 with 3 candidates running for president: the incumbent President Mwai Kibaki, the Prime Minister Raila Odinga and the Vice President Kalonza Musyoka.
Kenya’s system is in theory very simple, who ever gets the most vote wins.
Immediately following the elections, after 60% of the constituencies had returned their votes the Prime Minister Raila Odinga was claiming victory, however, when the remaining 40% of the constituencies returned their votes, the president claimed victory.
Although each candidate represented a different political party, they also came from 3 different tribes. Mr Kibaki is from the Kikuyu, Mr Odinga from the Luo, and Mr Kalonza from the Kamba.
The vice president swiftly conceded defeat and threw his support behind the president. However, as is so often the case, with neither of the other parties willing to concede, frustration on both sides turned to anger and anger to violence; violence drawn along ethnic lines.
Gangs quickly formed targeting ethnic minorities in Kikuyu & Luo majority areas. Old scores were quickly settled. But in a matter of days, opportunist attacks and reprisals had become an organised ethnic cleansing.
Although the Prime Minister tried to prevent the electoral commission from announcing the votes, in an attempt to cease the violence, the chairman of the electoral commission, Mr. Samuel Kivuitu announced the vote through the media and the president was immediately sworn in by the chief justice.
The result of the election was hotly disputed and remains contentious to this day with both sides still claiming victory. The post election violence of 2008 claimed 1,133 lives and displaced 650,000 people.
It was at the beginning of January 2009 that the violence came to the ethnically mixed town Naivasha west of Nairobi. Annette told us of the bodies lying in the road. Fearing the worst, Jennifer implored Paul to take Annette to her sister Beatrice’s home in Nairobi for safety, a request to which Paul agreed. Angela, Allen & Jennifer were picked up with Moses help the following week and moved to the home of Jennifer’s sister Beatrice who was then living with her husband in Nairobi.
In Nairobi Jennifer resumed her work as a tailor and it was there where although not permitted by the church, Jennifer was granted a divorce upon the condition that she never re-marry. Unfortunately Beatrice was unable to continue to support the Jennifer & the children and so they all moved back to Agnes’ home in Murang’a.
And what of Paul? Well, Paul also moved to Nairobi during the violence and learning of the divorce decision, took all of the clothing articles Jennifer had made plus her gas cooker to sell. They have not heard from him since.
Severely traumatised following her ordeal, Jennifer was admitted to hospital in Nairobi for treatment where she has been going up to this day. The children continue to reside with their grandmother Agnes
As for the children, it is clear that they have seen things that no child should ever have to see. But in spite of what they have had to endured, they are beautiful, alert, fun-loving children. Angela is now 18 and studying at the Mumbi Girls high school in Murang’a. Annette and Allan are inseparable. What they have seen and been through has clearly brought them together in a way that only adversity can. During the whole time they were recounting their story, Annette did not let go of Allan. Annette is 12 and in class 7 at Gakuyu primary; she likes cricket (evidently a very smart girl) and wants to be a doctor so she can help her family. Allan is 6 and in class 1 of Gakuyu primary school; he also likes cricket (can it get any better?) and wants to be an airline pilot.
To end this chapter of the story where we began, Agnes came to see us at the school to request assistance and if possible sponsorship for Allan to attend the St. Anna Day Care Centre. Normally assistance would not be provided for Allan as he is not an orphan. As we know, his mother Jennifer is alive and their dad too. But as she is receiving treatment in Nairobi, and as it is important for us as an organisation to evaluate and assist all children with serious hardships, we are considering this an exceptional case and are therefore looking for a sponsor for him.
If anyone is interested, please let me know. I cannot begin to explain how it feels to sit with these children and hear them tell you what they have been through and how they have been forced to grow up before there time.
(Chapter 2 of Agnes’ story - Agnes’ daughter’s friend’s family, will be posted when I have had the chance to meet the main protagonists.
Lala Salama (sleep well)
Agnes met us as the appropriate point and she guided us across the valley to her home. This is where my levity stops as what follows is her and her family’s account of how until recently she came to be supporting 2 families in addition to her own: her daughter’s and her daughter’s friend’s family
Chapter 1: Her daughter’s family
Agnes Kinuthia is 68 years old and married to Moses who is 70. She is the mother of 6 children, including her daughters Jennifer and Beatrice.
Until January 2009 Jennifer was living in the town of Naivasha which is approximately 90 miles to the west of Nairobi. Jennifer, a tailor by trade, was married to Paul for 18 years and has 3 children: Angela (18), Annette (12) & Allan (6). Living near a predominantly Muslim community Paul slowly stopped going to church and eventually converted to Islam. As a staunch Christian, Jennifer was very angry and from then on refused to serve him and wash his Aba (Islamic robe worn over clothes).
Although Allen is too young to recollect, Annette remembers clearly what happened next.
The domestic situation deteriorated rapidly as Jennifer continued to refuse Paul’s demands to convert to Islam and their relationship became increasing hostile and confrontational. Annette recalls that there was “much violence between mum & dad” especially on one occasion when Jennifer burnt Paul’s Aba.
Paul also began to force the 3 children to attend the local madrasah where in Annette’s words “we were very uncomfortable”, so Jennifer decided to run away with the children. She took all the money she had tied up in the garments she had made and fled with Angela, Annette & Allen to her mother’s home in Murang’a, where they lived for 3 years.
During that time they had no word from Paul, until one day he arrived at Agnes’ home telling them that he had reconverted to Christianity and wanted Jennifer and the children to return with him to Naivasha. Believing him for sincere, Agnes & Moses agreed to his request. Unfortunately for Jennifer and the children, it was just a charade to lure them back. As soon as they we back in Navaisha things picked up where they had left off.
It was then that events in Kenya overtook everything. Late 2008 were exceptional times in the recent history of Kenya. Elections were held on the 27th December of year 2007 with 3 candidates running for president: the incumbent President Mwai Kibaki, the Prime Minister Raila Odinga and the Vice President Kalonza Musyoka.
Kenya’s system is in theory very simple, who ever gets the most vote wins.
Immediately following the elections, after 60% of the constituencies had returned their votes the Prime Minister Raila Odinga was claiming victory, however, when the remaining 40% of the constituencies returned their votes, the president claimed victory.
Although each candidate represented a different political party, they also came from 3 different tribes. Mr Kibaki is from the Kikuyu, Mr Odinga from the Luo, and Mr Kalonza from the Kamba.
The vice president swiftly conceded defeat and threw his support behind the president. However, as is so often the case, with neither of the other parties willing to concede, frustration on both sides turned to anger and anger to violence; violence drawn along ethnic lines.
Gangs quickly formed targeting ethnic minorities in Kikuyu & Luo majority areas. Old scores were quickly settled. But in a matter of days, opportunist attacks and reprisals had become an organised ethnic cleansing.
Although the Prime Minister tried to prevent the electoral commission from announcing the votes, in an attempt to cease the violence, the chairman of the electoral commission, Mr. Samuel Kivuitu announced the vote through the media and the president was immediately sworn in by the chief justice.
The result of the election was hotly disputed and remains contentious to this day with both sides still claiming victory. The post election violence of 2008 claimed 1,133 lives and displaced 650,000 people.
It was at the beginning of January 2009 that the violence came to the ethnically mixed town Naivasha west of Nairobi. Annette told us of the bodies lying in the road. Fearing the worst, Jennifer implored Paul to take Annette to her sister Beatrice’s home in Nairobi for safety, a request to which Paul agreed. Angela, Allen & Jennifer were picked up with Moses help the following week and moved to the home of Jennifer’s sister Beatrice who was then living with her husband in Nairobi.
In Nairobi Jennifer resumed her work as a tailor and it was there where although not permitted by the church, Jennifer was granted a divorce upon the condition that she never re-marry. Unfortunately Beatrice was unable to continue to support the Jennifer & the children and so they all moved back to Agnes’ home in Murang’a.
And what of Paul? Well, Paul also moved to Nairobi during the violence and learning of the divorce decision, took all of the clothing articles Jennifer had made plus her gas cooker to sell. They have not heard from him since.
Severely traumatised following her ordeal, Jennifer was admitted to hospital in Nairobi for treatment where she has been going up to this day. The children continue to reside with their grandmother Agnes
As for the children, it is clear that they have seen things that no child should ever have to see. But in spite of what they have had to endured, they are beautiful, alert, fun-loving children. Angela is now 18 and studying at the Mumbi Girls high school in Murang’a. Annette and Allan are inseparable. What they have seen and been through has clearly brought them together in a way that only adversity can. During the whole time they were recounting their story, Annette did not let go of Allan. Annette is 12 and in class 7 at Gakuyu primary; she likes cricket (evidently a very smart girl) and wants to be a doctor so she can help her family. Allan is 6 and in class 1 of Gakuyu primary school; he also likes cricket (can it get any better?) and wants to be an airline pilot.
To end this chapter of the story where we began, Agnes came to see us at the school to request assistance and if possible sponsorship for Allan to attend the St. Anna Day Care Centre. Normally assistance would not be provided for Allan as he is not an orphan. As we know, his mother Jennifer is alive and their dad too. But as she is receiving treatment in Nairobi, and as it is important for us as an organisation to evaluate and assist all children with serious hardships, we are considering this an exceptional case and are therefore looking for a sponsor for him.
If anyone is interested, please let me know. I cannot begin to explain how it feels to sit with these children and hear them tell you what they have been through and how they have been forced to grow up before there time.
(Chapter 2 of Agnes’ story - Agnes’ daughter’s friend’s family, will be posted when I have had the chance to meet the main protagonists.
Lala Salama (sleep well)
Friday, 5 February 2010
I'm not fit
That is my conclusion following yesterday’s two games of football. One nice leisurely game with the children on the school “field”, then one not quite so sedate with the local lads down at Murang’a Wembley. I thought I gave a fairly decent account of myself considering I haven’t broken into a sweat since last century. It was funny to see all the kids in a big group charge around the pitch chasing the ball at the same time. Reassuringly to see that’s the same the world over!
But before I come to today I wanted to write a word on last night. Just after football, at about 18h30 the electricity went out during a lightning storm. No news there I agree, but what was a first for me was preparing dinner with a wind-up torch. I mean of course by wind-up torch light, not that I prepared dinner with a wind up torch. That would have been something to write home about.
Anyway, Friday is school assembly day which starts promptly at 07h45. So in spite of the aches and pains I hobbled the 100m to the school to participate in prayers & announcements as customary for all. Apart from the weekly flag raising ceremony for a flag we don’t yet have (we are working on it believe me), the only other points of information of note were :
i) That yours truly is back and will be with the school for the next 6 month … cue generous applause and excited noises. Very touching.
ii) And this is much better than #1, there is a rumour running rampant (like the alliteration?) around the area that there are vampires at the school! (love it). Indeed the rumour even apparently originated from our school itself and has now spread across the valley to the opposite high school. So worrying is it apparently, that the students are now afraid to cross the valley.
The head teacher however moved quickly to quash the rumour pointing out very wisely to the kids that he, Mr. Kuranja and Matthew would not be here were it true. He’s spot on there. That’s why he’s head teacher I guess.
After assembly, James (who is Kenyan volunteer at the school) and I had a meeting with the carpenter to discuss and commission a hutch for the rabbits we will be buying at some time next week. We are due the quote tomorrow. The rabbits are for the children to rear and look after, but as with most of the school projects the aim is to sell them for meat. If all goes to plan, rabbits will do what rabbits do best and before we can say Jack Robinson (or the Swahili equivalent) we will have dozens and dozens.
The afternoon was bizarre to say the least. I didn’t quite get the whole story at the time but it involved trekking across a few fields to look at a calf. Apparently one was for sale at 5,500 Kenyan Shillings and James and I were charged with checking it out to see if it was a good deal. At about 16h00 two blokes arrived to take us to the man who was selling the calf. Unfortunately I don’t recall their names but one was completely drunk.
When we got there to the consternation of man 1 and 2, it turned out that we had been gazumped and the calf had been sold that very morning (if only it had been exchanged for 5 magic beans the story would have been complete). By a strange twist of fate, seller just so happened to have another at 15,000 Kenyan shillings if we were interested. We politely declined and headed home.
On the way home I got the full story. It turns out that the Bishop & his wife were generously proposing to buy the calf for the 2 men who had accompanied us to help them set themselves up. James accurately pointed out to the drunken man of the two: “if you have money for drink, you can surely buy your own calf”. You can’t argue with that.
Night night from the equator where the water goes straight down the plug hole.
But before I come to today I wanted to write a word on last night. Just after football, at about 18h30 the electricity went out during a lightning storm. No news there I agree, but what was a first for me was preparing dinner with a wind-up torch. I mean of course by wind-up torch light, not that I prepared dinner with a wind up torch. That would have been something to write home about.
Anyway, Friday is school assembly day which starts promptly at 07h45. So in spite of the aches and pains I hobbled the 100m to the school to participate in prayers & announcements as customary for all. Apart from the weekly flag raising ceremony for a flag we don’t yet have (we are working on it believe me), the only other points of information of note were :
i) That yours truly is back and will be with the school for the next 6 month … cue generous applause and excited noises. Very touching.
ii) And this is much better than #1, there is a rumour running rampant (like the alliteration?) around the area that there are vampires at the school! (love it). Indeed the rumour even apparently originated from our school itself and has now spread across the valley to the opposite high school. So worrying is it apparently, that the students are now afraid to cross the valley.
The head teacher however moved quickly to quash the rumour pointing out very wisely to the kids that he, Mr. Kuranja and Matthew would not be here were it true. He’s spot on there. That’s why he’s head teacher I guess.
After assembly, James (who is Kenyan volunteer at the school) and I had a meeting with the carpenter to discuss and commission a hutch for the rabbits we will be buying at some time next week. We are due the quote tomorrow. The rabbits are for the children to rear and look after, but as with most of the school projects the aim is to sell them for meat. If all goes to plan, rabbits will do what rabbits do best and before we can say Jack Robinson (or the Swahili equivalent) we will have dozens and dozens.
The afternoon was bizarre to say the least. I didn’t quite get the whole story at the time but it involved trekking across a few fields to look at a calf. Apparently one was for sale at 5,500 Kenyan Shillings and James and I were charged with checking it out to see if it was a good deal. At about 16h00 two blokes arrived to take us to the man who was selling the calf. Unfortunately I don’t recall their names but one was completely drunk.
When we got there to the consternation of man 1 and 2, it turned out that we had been gazumped and the calf had been sold that very morning (if only it had been exchanged for 5 magic beans the story would have been complete). By a strange twist of fate, seller just so happened to have another at 15,000 Kenyan shillings if we were interested. We politely declined and headed home.
On the way home I got the full story. It turns out that the Bishop & his wife were generously proposing to buy the calf for the 2 men who had accompanied us to help them set themselves up. James accurately pointed out to the drunken man of the two: “if you have money for drink, you can surely buy your own calf”. You can’t argue with that.
Night night from the equator where the water goes straight down the plug hole.
Thursday, 4 February 2010
Workshop Work
One of the many initiatives we hope to get off the ground this year is to set-up the workshop here at the school. We have a decent sized shed and quite a lot of tools that were kindly given to us by some sponsors in Sweden (good folks the Swedes).
When I was here in November we undertook a complete inventory of the tools. I remember it was all I could do to stop us having to count the screw and nails. Anyway, now we need to get it up and running. This presents several challenges to us, not least the fact that the electricity is erratic at best here. But faint heart never won fair workshop, so we are cracking on.
Yesterday evening we delivered a list of requirements to the local branch of B&Q in Murang’a, which they will put together and deliver to us over the coming days. This morning 3 carpenters arrived at the school to begin kitting out the workshop with kit (technical term). All day they have been hammering and circular sawing (except when the electricity cut out at 11am whereupon they had to revert to bow saws). It makes me think of that “when I nod my head, hit it” joke. Paddy and Murphy are laying this wooden floor…sorry, I digress. The carpenters are putting up shelves and dividing walls in the workshop so we can separate the woodwork area from the metal work/welding area. The end game is that we can teach the children some valuable technical skills, and we can run some vocational courses for the wider members of community. The reality is that most children do not go on to high school but leave at 16 and immediately look for work. Anything we can do to increase their employability is a bonus. They deserve a better chance.
The workshop must of course eventually pay for itself with the school and community using it to make items such as chairs, bed frames and window guards which can be sold in exchange for that stuff we call money.
Before I sign off, good news! I have been invited to a pre-wedding ceremony in advance of the big day itself : “Brother John Wahome & Sister Jane Ngaruma & the Organising Committee cordially invite Mr. Matthew to our Pre-Wedding Ceremony in preparation of our wedding. This will be held on 21st Feb. 2010 at A.C.K. St. James Cathedral Murang’a at 2.00pm”.
Imagine that, 3 days here and my first pre-wedding. Oooh what to wear?! Oooh oooh, what to sing if they have karaoke?!
Off to show the kids how to play football. What is it they say about mad dogs and Englishmen?
When I was here in November we undertook a complete inventory of the tools. I remember it was all I could do to stop us having to count the screw and nails. Anyway, now we need to get it up and running. This presents several challenges to us, not least the fact that the electricity is erratic at best here. But faint heart never won fair workshop, so we are cracking on.
Yesterday evening we delivered a list of requirements to the local branch of B&Q in Murang’a, which they will put together and deliver to us over the coming days. This morning 3 carpenters arrived at the school to begin kitting out the workshop with kit (technical term). All day they have been hammering and circular sawing (except when the electricity cut out at 11am whereupon they had to revert to bow saws). It makes me think of that “when I nod my head, hit it” joke. Paddy and Murphy are laying this wooden floor…sorry, I digress. The carpenters are putting up shelves and dividing walls in the workshop so we can separate the woodwork area from the metal work/welding area. The end game is that we can teach the children some valuable technical skills, and we can run some vocational courses for the wider members of community. The reality is that most children do not go on to high school but leave at 16 and immediately look for work. Anything we can do to increase their employability is a bonus. They deserve a better chance.
The workshop must of course eventually pay for itself with the school and community using it to make items such as chairs, bed frames and window guards which can be sold in exchange for that stuff we call money.
Before I sign off, good news! I have been invited to a pre-wedding ceremony in advance of the big day itself : “Brother John Wahome & Sister Jane Ngaruma & the Organising Committee cordially invite Mr. Matthew to our Pre-Wedding Ceremony in preparation of our wedding. This will be held on 21st Feb. 2010 at A.C.K. St. James Cathedral Murang’a at 2.00pm”.
Imagine that, 3 days here and my first pre-wedding. Oooh what to wear?! Oooh oooh, what to sing if they have karaoke?!
Off to show the kids how to play football. What is it they say about mad dogs and Englishmen?
Wednesday, 3 February 2010
First 2 Days
Hello! I have finally managed to get this capricious 3G card working but as it keeps cutting out, I’ll have to be quick.
I arrived in Nairobi yesterday morning at 05h30. The first thing that struck me (literally) was of course the difference in temperature. When I left Paris on Monday it had been snowing. When I landed in Kenya, it was 17°C and had risen to 28°C by the afternoon.
Any lingering doubts I may have were dispelled upon arrival at the bishop’s son’s (Kiiru) house. I was welcomed to a breakfast of toast, fresh mango and watermelon juice plus had a front row seat for the frenetic morning rush to get work and the 3 kids to school (it is not just us then!). Once calm had descended upon the house I promptly fell asleep for the rest of the morning.
In late afternoon we made the 90 min journey north from Nairobi to the school in Murang’a. By the time we arrived school had finished for the day and most of the children had gone home, so spent the rest of the day unpacking and setting myself and my mosquito net up net up etc.
Dinner was taken with the Bishop & Mama before I collapsed for the night.
Today began with us spending most of the morning with Agnes. Agnes is local lady who is looking after 10 children - 3 of them are her own great Grandchildren, the 7 others from another family who fled the violence and “ethnic cleansing” following the disputed election of 2008. We are looking for ways to help her and sponsor on of the children here in the school. I’ll put Agnes’ whole story down as soon as I can write it up I promise, as it is amazing.
This afternoon was spent buying provisions in Murang’a town and market. There are all kinds of whacky but delicious fruits that we don’t have back home (at least I have never seen them) e.g. Europe fruit!
As I write this we are preparing dinner and with the other hand I am checking the rice for stones and other “bits” (that’s after we open the bag and before we cook it)!
Love to all
I arrived in Nairobi yesterday morning at 05h30. The first thing that struck me (literally) was of course the difference in temperature. When I left Paris on Monday it had been snowing. When I landed in Kenya, it was 17°C and had risen to 28°C by the afternoon.
Any lingering doubts I may have were dispelled upon arrival at the bishop’s son’s (Kiiru) house. I was welcomed to a breakfast of toast, fresh mango and watermelon juice plus had a front row seat for the frenetic morning rush to get work and the 3 kids to school (it is not just us then!). Once calm had descended upon the house I promptly fell asleep for the rest of the morning.
In late afternoon we made the 90 min journey north from Nairobi to the school in Murang’a. By the time we arrived school had finished for the day and most of the children had gone home, so spent the rest of the day unpacking and setting myself and my mosquito net up net up etc.
Dinner was taken with the Bishop & Mama before I collapsed for the night.
Today began with us spending most of the morning with Agnes. Agnes is local lady who is looking after 10 children - 3 of them are her own great Grandchildren, the 7 others from another family who fled the violence and “ethnic cleansing” following the disputed election of 2008. We are looking for ways to help her and sponsor on of the children here in the school. I’ll put Agnes’ whole story down as soon as I can write it up I promise, as it is amazing.
This afternoon was spent buying provisions in Murang’a town and market. There are all kinds of whacky but delicious fruits that we don’t have back home (at least I have never seen them) e.g. Europe fruit!
As I write this we are preparing dinner and with the other hand I am checking the rice for stones and other “bits” (that’s after we open the bag and before we cook it)!
Love to all
Monday, 1 February 2010
This is it!
In a little over 1 hour a taxi will arrive to take me to the airport and the Paris chapter of my life will come to an end. I can’t believe it that I am leaving and that I have been here for 11 years. How it flies n’est-ce pas?
Thanks for all the calls and well wishes I have had over the last days. I really appreciate them and it is reassuring to know that you all understand why I am doing what I am about to embark upon. Many have asked how I feel. It is difficult to put into words as it is nothing I have quite felt before: a curious mix of excitement and optimism tinged with trepidation and even a touch of sadness at the end of a major phase in my life and for the people I have said goodbye to. But I know I will see them again…many in Kenya. Indeed if everyone who has stated their wish to come and see does get down there, I don’t think I will have 1 week on my own!
The only cloud over the day is that I have just learnt that my brother is in Chester hospital after being admitted with chest pains yesterday evening. Why does everything always happen at the same time? Get well Ben xx
Bon, I have to run as there are still one or two things to pack. The plan is to pick up a pay as you go 3G card when I get there so hopefully I’ll be back online by the end of the week.
Until then, love to all.
PS: Thanks to all who updated their Facebook status with my solar request…I think it may have just born fruit. To be contd.
XX
Thanks for all the calls and well wishes I have had over the last days. I really appreciate them and it is reassuring to know that you all understand why I am doing what I am about to embark upon. Many have asked how I feel. It is difficult to put into words as it is nothing I have quite felt before: a curious mix of excitement and optimism tinged with trepidation and even a touch of sadness at the end of a major phase in my life and for the people I have said goodbye to. But I know I will see them again…many in Kenya. Indeed if everyone who has stated their wish to come and see does get down there, I don’t think I will have 1 week on my own!
The only cloud over the day is that I have just learnt that my brother is in Chester hospital after being admitted with chest pains yesterday evening. Why does everything always happen at the same time? Get well Ben xx
Bon, I have to run as there are still one or two things to pack. The plan is to pick up a pay as you go 3G card when I get there so hopefully I’ll be back online by the end of the week.
Until then, love to all.
PS: Thanks to all who updated their Facebook status with my solar request…I think it may have just born fruit. To be contd.
XX
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