Sobering Journey

I travelled up to Kimilili in western Kenya last Friday to spend the weekend with Pastor Kevin Wanjala and his family, and to preach at one of his churches on Sunday. Despite having visited Kimilili many times before, it was my first time driving in that direction since returning to Kenya at the end of January, and therefore the first time since the violence at the beginning of the year. To get to Kimilili, I pass through Nakuru and Eldoret, both names that appeared in the news all too often at that time. About half an hour from Nakuru, we began to pass destroyed buildings, generally missing at least the roof. In the case of mud houses, all that remained was the floor. What was particularly surreal was that it wasn’t every building. There were those that remained in tact – presumably belonging to Kalenjin, the destroyed ones having been occupied by Kikuyu. I wondered how many of the people who were around at the side of the road had themselves been involved in the violence, either as perpetrators or as victims. Every now again, we passed groups of white tents, some with Kenya Red Cross vehicles outside, others with UNHCR emblazoned in blue across them: IDP (Internally Displaced Persons) camps. To lose your home and possibly have witnessed friends and relatives being brutally killed must have been traumatic enough. To still be in these crude camps 6 months on ………..It’s hard to begin to imagine the sense of loss. So often, we hear in the news of violence, catastrophes and tragedies. Then the news moves on, whilst those affected continue to live with the aftermath of what has happened. At one point, we passed two army trucks. Sitting in the back of the first one were soldiers, brandishing their rifles (a sight not uncommon here, be that military, police or security guards). It was only on passing the truck at the front that I realised what the vehicles were about, as sitting in this one were civilians – IDPs, presumably either being relocated from one camp to another, or possibly being returned ‘home’, whatever state their home was now in. It wasn’t all gloom however. There were places where people had evidently returned and were trying to rebuild their lives – fresh piles of bricks as people worked on reconstructing their buildings and livelihoods.
I didn’t see any evident signs of destruction in Kimilili itself, but many of those in the church who fled the area at the beginning of the year have yet to return – if they ever will. Kevin and Lyn took in approximately 50 displaced families during the course of the troubles, erecting a big tent in the compound of their mud house, and stretching their resources to the limit. “It was terrible”, said Kevin, referring to the time that displaced people arrived in Kimilili from nearby Mount Elgon seeking refuge, threatening leaflets then being distributed by the Sabaot Land Defence Army throughout the town. It appears to be life as usual there now, the maize in the fields growing tall and starting to show signs of a good harvest to come, but there is a lot of hurt under the surface, and when it comes down to it, nothing has been resolved.

Different Worlds

Having bought a couple of items of new furniture at the beginning of May, I offered the pieces that these replaced to my househelp, Esther. It’s common practice in Kenya to employ staff, be that full-time, or, like me, part-time to work in the house. Unemployment is high here, and domestic work is a good form of employment, supporting not only the individuals involved, but where there are children, oftentimes helping out with their school fees. Esther just works 2 mornings for me, cleaning and doing laundry. She has a long commute to work as she lives the other side of Nairobi, and because of the traffic jams during rush hour is generally leaving her house by 5:30am.
On Sunday, she met me at my flat, we loaded the car, and then drove over to Kahawa, where she stays. The last section of Thika Road before we turned off was a throng of people, market stalls open, and a church crusade taking place on one roundabout. We then followed murram tracks off the main road to her house. The best way I can describe where she lives is as a square in a square. Her ‘house’ is actually 10x10 foot room in a series of over 23 such rooms, most of these forming the square on the outside, the remainder a block on the inside. Behind her metal front door, a net curtain allows light in whilst providing privacy. Her living area was divided by a curtain from the bedroom. Floor space was exceedingly limited, most of it being taken up by a settee and 2 armchairs, a side board, a couple of small side tables and a bed. I did rather wonder where she’d put the two items we’d brought with us. Surprisingly, on top of the sideboard were a television and DVD player. Apart from water stains on the ceiling from the last time it had rained, everywhere was spotless, and decorated such as she could, embroidered doilies covering the backs and arms of the 3-piece suite, and various posters on the walls. In one corner were bottles of water, the only source being a communal tap outside which doesn’t always have water in it, and a paraffin stove. On this, she boiled up water and milk for chai (tea), and then produced some bread for us to eat. The bathroom, both latrines and for washing, was communal, and the smell rather wafted over from there when you went anywhere near.
Esther’s world is so different to mine. I drive places in a vehicle, protected from pickpockets. My 2nd bedroom is larger than her entire house. I am not beaten, as she apparently is by one of her brothers, for being single. My holidays are often spent travelling, seeing different parts of the country, whilst hers are spent at home. Her life is about survival, whilst mine incorporates the concept of leisure. And yet we could spend a pleasant couple of hours together, very different people, employer and employee, but both as Christian believers. I often consider how fortunate I am to have been born where I was, into the family and at the point in history that I was.

Daily Commute

My office is only about 7km from home, but the drive can be quite interesting. Going to work, I use fairly main highways, but coming home, I drive through a largely Muslim residential area, dominated by a large mosque. It struck me on Friday that there were a number of things that I was passing that are a part of everyday life here, but that might be of interest to people living elsewhere. So, I figured I should make a mental note, and then write them up. So, here they are:-
1. A road surface that at one point is so full of potholes / craters, there’s barely a smooth stretch on it. Vehicles are now more likely to drive off road than to stay on it.
2. A group of 3 burkah-clad Muslim ladies chatting at the side of the road. All that was visible was their eyes.
3. Stalls of second-hand clothing, the clothes on hangers and waving in the breeze.
4. Turkeys wandering around, and getting whatever scraps they could.
5. A lady having her hair straightened at a salon (or ‘saloon’ as they’re often called). She was sitting on a wooden chair in full view of everyone in the street, the hairdresser using what seemed to be a cross between a hair dryer and a steamer.
6. A guy roasting maize on a jiko (charcoal stove), and fanning the charcoal to get it to burn better.
7. Cars driving down the wrong side of the road (or on the pavement) in a bid to jump the queue in the inevitable traffic jam.
8. Two foam mattresses under an overhang of a building. One had someone sleeping under a blanket; the other just had possessions left there, the occupant presumably having gone for a wander.
9. Stalls of fruit and vegetables, the produce neatly piled up.

Out and about in the Rift Valley

Monday was a holiday here - Madaraka Day. Having not been able to go away as planned to minister in Kimilili in western Kenya, due to a heavy cold, and feeling somewhat better by Monday, I really wanted to get out of the city at least for part of the day. In the end, a colleague and I went for a drive around the Ngong Hills, which are about 20 miles from Nairobi. I’d walked the length of them before, and had driven over them to go to Lake Magadi (a soda lake near the border with Tanzania), but had never done the circuit. It was great to escape the hustle and bustle of the city, and be out on the open road. Some of it was tarmac, but all of the road at the back of the hills (which is effectively in the Rift Valley) was murram. Quite a contrast going from one side to the other. On the Nairobi side, it’s all pretty green and cultivated. On the far side, it’s dry, the landscape dotted with flat-topped acacia trees, and with the occasional Masai manyatta (dwelling), with their thorn fences. The hills themselves are quite beautiful, with their folds, and undulating peaks. We had lunch under an acacia, with the backdrop of the Ngongs. No traffic noises, just the sounds of different birds, and of cowbells as cattle were being herded. Most of the traffic we met was on the way back, when we passed a large number of pickup trucks packed with Masai! They’d evidently been out for the day too! An extra detour took us on the tarmac road going down (literally!) on the way to Magadi. Amazing views, several potholes and some interesting encounters with cows in the road!

Birdlife

People who don't live in Kenya know about the animals living here, Big Cat Diary and the Elephant Orphanage featuring various such species. However, there's also a very diverse birdlife here with birds of all colours, shapes and sizes. A number of people living here, who perhaps would never have done so in their home countries, get interested in bird watching (and I include myself in that). And sometimes, you don't have to go very far at all! This Silvery-cheeked hornbill seems to turn up in my area of Nairobi around this time of year. Here, he's seen perching in the tree just outside my flat. I wouldn't want to mess with that head of his!

Entebbe Trip

I’m in Entebbe, Uganda at the end of a week’s stay here. I’m here principally to give 2 days of finance training to Project Leaders and Administrative staff. These took place on Tuesday and Wednesday. It was a new undertaking for me, so I was a little apprehensive as to how it would go. The 25 of us were rather crammed into the office’s living room (the office is a converted house), perhaps not the most conducive of learning environments. However, they were great participants and we had good times of discussion and interaction. The course seemed to be appreciated by all there, and I enjoyed my part in it too!
Being in Entebbe has also been a good opportunity for me to visit with some friends / colleagues here who will be leaving Uganda within the next couple of months. I fly back to Nairobi tomorrow. Hoping that it’ll be less stormy (and bumpy) over Lake Victoria than on the way over. However, the views of Mount Kenya, the Aberdares and the Great Rift Valley on the Kenya end of the journey were quite something.

Custom Made

I spent 5 hours driving around on Saturday, getting groceries but also ordering a frame to be custom made for a piece of Congolese cloth that I bought the previous weekend, and going furniture shopping. The framers was downtown, and I spent over an hour trying to get there (it’s only a few miles away), and then get parking. Interesting being downtown as I so rarely go there. Certainly a hive of activity. It always strikes me that it's very odd to be in a city, where you hardly ever go into the centre. And that of course is the part that has more history (or at least as much as a 100 year old city can have!), as it's where things started. Going by the number of people there that day, there must be quite a lot there! I keep meaning to go down on a Sunday afternoon when it's quieter and just have a wander around. Reasons for not going downtown are that I generally don’t need to, with various shopping malls in other parts of town, and it’s also fairly notorious for its security, or rather, lack thereof! As I walked along the broken up pavement amidst the mass of humanity, with vehicles passing by, I wondered how it would have been in the days of the early settlers when the city was just developing.
I then went up Ngong Road to look at some of the furniture being sold (and made) at the side of the road. I needed to replace some bedroom furniture due to some rearrangements in my 2nd bedroom after the arrival of a keyboard (on loan from some friends who’re away now for 18months). The furniture ‘showrooms’ aren’t exactly salubrious, being out in the open (they’re called ‘jua kali’, literally meaning ‘hot sun’ as that’s where they’re made). You rather wonder sometimes what state it’s all in having been exposed to the elements, plus the dust and pollution (it’s the 3-piece upholstered suites that would be decidedly the worse for wear, I’d think). Along that stretch of Ngong, there are umpteen places making and selling essentially the same thing. I wound up ordering a chest of drawers and a bedside table from one place, and will go back at the weekend to pick them up. So, something else custom made (albeit following a very common pattern)!