If all continues as it has been, I'm happy to say that things are getting much better here. I've been back in Molo since Thursday afternoon. I didn't anticipate being here again on this trip, much less without John, but then, there have been many surprises in the last 6 weeks. John returned home on the 3rd alone after we had decided that I should stay in Kenya for awhile longer.
The main reason for our decision was, that because of the turmoil, we still have not been able to get started on our Rotary water project at Lake Baringo. I'm hoping that as things settle down, it will be possible and I want to be here at least to see some of the progress. At the moment, we're still "on hold". In the meantime, on Monday morning after John left, I moved to the Anglican Church of Kenya Guest House, just down the road from the hotel at which we had been staying. It's less expensive, and there's a language school there where I've been taking Kiswahili lessons. It's amazing what one can learn in a short time with good instruction and no distractions!
One of the surprises this week was being invited to participate in interviews on a live radio program and on a TV show in Nairobi. The purpose of both shows was to highlight the damage that has been done to the tourist industry and to try to dispel some of the fear about traveling to and around Kenya. My role on the shows was to talk about my experiences in the past 6 weeks as a visitor to Kenya, what I've seen and my perceptions of the security risks. My fellow interviewees were Duncan Murioki, the Chairman of the Kenya Association of Tour Operators, and Rebecca Nabutola, the Permanent Secretary for Tourism in the current government who is filling the responsibilities of the office of Minister of Tourism until someone can be appointed to that position. I don't know that many tourists heard or saw the shows, but one message from Rebecca was to Kenyans, encouraging them to be tourists in their own country, to take advantage of its offerings and not to rely on foreign visitors alone to support the tourism industry. We strongly agreed that the media and the travel advisories issued by countries, especially in the EU, have been damaging and not always based on fact.
The return to Molo yesterday came about because Samuel, our partner there at NECOFA, asked if I'd come back to help with some of the work he's doing in the 9 /formal/ Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camps in Molo town and in several additional /informal/ camps outside of town. In Molo alone, there are several thousand people who have fled from their homes, many of which (homes) have been burned, who are now living in churches, tents, and even out in the open. Samuel and his colleagues have taken the lead in trying to coordinate services to these people, helping them organize themselves to be spokespeople for their own needs, and generally trying to fill in the gaps not being addressed by the Red Cross, which is overwhelmed by the need all over the country and relying on untrained volunteers to administer aid, often very ineffectively.
Samuel and his team have held meetings with the local churches, NGOs and government officials, have organized committees at different levels and helped committee members to determine their roles so that there is a minimum of overlap in administration and provision of services, have created information systems to be used in the camps to collect data on who's there, what their needs are, where they came from, etc., and then, based on the information, have begun fundraising efforts to meet the identified needs.
This situation is one that Samuel's team has never experienced before, nor did they anticipate, even a week ago how involved they would be in the lives of the victims of the violence and that very shortly, they would undertake this massive project. When the people began moving in from their homes and shamabas seeking refuge in town, Samuel and his team realized that the people were their friends, their colleagues and the farmers with whom they've been working over the years and knew that they had to do something to help them, or they would feel that they were turning a blind eye to their plight.
Yesterday I spent several hours with Karangathi Njoroge and David Chege, two of Samuel's colleagues. In just one week, they have created a system that I'm sure no other camp in Kenya enjoys. I was incredulous...at the sheer number of issues, needs and challenges around which they have managed to create some order and in the process, developed relationships among numerous organizations and people. But they haven't stopped with trying to meet the overwhelming need. They are already working with the camp committees to develop a plan for the peoples' return to their homes when it's safe. This last activity is one that they see as helping to create hope for these people who have lost everything and who face the huge challenge in starting over from scratch. Just to give some perspective, farmers rarely have any insurance on their homes or possessions, so there's no money coming to them to help with the rebuilding. Most of them do not even own the land on which they live. They will return home with nothing in their pockets and will find their livestock gone, their homes burned, all of their possessions either burned or stolen, and their crops also burned or harvested by the raiders. Many of them have been severely traumatized and at this point, and some cannot even imagine returning.
I was incredulous to see the list of needs that Samuel's team had compiled after visiting the camps and interviewing the residents. A partial listing...clean water, instruction and school supplies for all of the children who are in the camps and not able to attend school (from nursery through high school), toilets, bedding, clothes, counseling for the people who have been severely traumatized, tents for hundreds of men who are currently sleeping outside (women and children have been given first priority for available shelter), soap and disinfectant, and Samuel said one of the things he's having the hardest time with is sanitary "towels" for the women and girls. In the smallest camp, there are 200 females who need sanitary napkins, and in all the camps together, they figure there are 1576 women and girls who need these supplies. It's something that they'll need every month and the cost is significant. He has people trying to find good deals on large quantities, but it's clearly one of those items that no one anticipated. The long term solution is to have someone come to teach the women how to make sanitary towels themselves from supplied materials, but the immediate need will be addressed by purchasing a short term supply. This will probably cost around 60,000 kenya shilllings, or between $800 and $900.
Another challenge is that there is at least one baby born every day in the camps, and last Thursday, one mother gave birth to twins. Samuel has been out buying diapers, blankets, (it's cold here), baby clothing and nutritious food for the mothers so they can feed their babies and stay healthy. His trip to Nairobi on Thursday was in part a purchasing trip for some of these items and to pick up the 400 kilos of maize flour that someone donated to the cause. Sadly, some of the young children have been orphaned in the conflict..there is one grandmother who is now responsible for 4 of her grandchildren, and another grandmother now has
2. Apparently, this grandmother also needs psychological counseling. Some of the orphans have no remaining family.
Samuel says that perhaps the most important thing of all is to give the people hope and so he's spending quite a bit of time in the camps himself. Yesterday, he was trying to arrange counseling for people who need it and trying to figure out how to open some classrooms so that the children can continue with their lessons. Yesterday was also the day that the committee, composed of 2 representatives from each of the camps, had their first meeting in the NECOFA offices. I met them just as their meeting was ending...most of them in their 20s and 30s, mostly men but a few women. I've seen Samuel interact now with several groups like this...he is so supportive and understanding of their situations, but so positive as he reminds people that things will be better and he helps them figure out what they can do now to start moving in that direction. He always uses a bit of humor to lighten the situation...and the people always respond. The mood at the end of the meeting was positive and I think hopeful.
I don't know yet how long I'll be here or really even what I'll be doing. Samuel is taking one day at a time, as every day seems to bring a new challenge or list of needs. He and his colleagues are doing this work full time right now, even though they all have other jobs. There's no shortage of things to do. On Monday, we'll visit the camps so that I can see for myself what the situation is and I know that Samuel would like help with fundraising efforts here. I think his plan is to "sensitize" me to the situation, (the Kenyans use this word in the way we use "familiarize") and then see where I might fit in.
So I'm back in the headmaster's house at the Michinda Boys Primary Boarding School, which is actually in the town of Elburgon, just east of Molo. John and I spent a week here last month. The house has only 3 rooms...a kitchen, a bedroom and a living room. There is electricity and water that comes from a bore hole behind the house, but the "toilet" and bathroom are outside in a detached small wooden building with two 4x4 "rooms", one with a pit covered with concrete and a hole in the center for doing one's business, (just like toilets in many developing countries) and the other side, the bathroom...with wires across the space to hang your towel, another hole in the ground for the water to drain, and nothing else. We heat the water on a propane cylinder in the kitchen, which is also what we cook on, and carry it to the bathroom and do the best we can with soap, a bucket, a cup and a towel. This arrangement is actually fairly typical all over Kenya, even in modern homes where there is no plumbing. The kitchen is small, with 4 open shelves, a counter and sink with running water, and a fire place, which I don't use. I'm cooking on a propane cylinder on the floor and everything is prepared in one of 4 /sufurias/ of different sizes. A sufuria is an open pot without a lid. My menus here are very simple...for breakfast, African coffee (boiled milk and water with instant coffee and sugar), cereal and fruit and maybe a hard boiled egg. Lunch today is peanut butter, crackers and fruit, and maybe African tea. For dinner last night, I picked a small cabbage and some kale from the garden in the back yard and cooked the greens with some rice. I have no idea what I'll do tonight, but probably the same, except I may go to the school garden and look for some onions.
I have no refrigeration, so I can't really keep anything that needs to be chilled, but nevertheless, I'm learning how to use some things that we would never leave out at home. This morning, Teresia, one of the school cooks, brought me a pitcher of milk from the school's dairy, fresh from the cow. If you boil the milk right away to kill the bacteria, it keeps for up to two days, even without refrigeration. I use it only for coffee, tea and cereal, and for the coffee and tea, you boil the milk with water before you drink it anyway, so whatever bacteria has managed to grow since the last boiling is killed.
When I shopped in Nakuru last Thursday, I bought things like rice, cereal, olive oil, crackers and sugar. I bought 8 eggs that came in a plastic bag, and a box of milk that doesn't need refrigeration to last until I got some from the dairy. Most grocery stores do not sell fresh fruit and vegetables, so you have to purchase those from a road side stand or a small shop. I picked up a huge bunch of bananas, 4 passion fruit and a mango at a stand for about $1.20, and figured I'd forage for veggies in the garden at the house. Most of the teachers here at Michinda have instead of yards, large gardens around their houses and also may keep chickens for eggs and meat.
I had lunch in town yesterday with 7 others at a nyama choma restaurant. Nyama choma is roasted meat- beef, goat or sheep (not lamb!) that is a favorite of Kenyans, and these restaurants are everywhere. You go into the restaurant and usually out the back door to the sink where you wash your hands and let them air dry. Yesterday, we all sat at a long table and a young man came from the kitchen, set a wooden cutting board at the end of the table and began carving the very large joint of beef that we were to share. We were each given a cup of delicious hot beef broth and then, with our fingers, took chunks of beef and chunks of ugali, the stiff polenta-like staple that is served with most meals. You squish the ugali between your fingers to make it firmer and sop up gravy with it or just pop it in your mouth. You can also chop it up in a stew. The beef was tender and flavorful, and the bones, fat and gristle ended up on the table next to our plates. We had no utensils or napkins, and at the end of the meal, went back to the sink to wash our hands again.
I've been doing my laundry in a bucket in the backyard and hanging it on a length of twine that I've strung between the fences. There's a proper clothesline in the front yard, but my small one in the back works fine. The house has no glass windows or screens, but wooden shutters with big bolts which are locked at night. Molo is at about 5,000 ft. elevation, and although today is beautiful... sunny and warm, it will cool off considerably this evening. There is no heater, but warm blankets are sufficient and the concrete blocks from which the house is built retain heat from the day. There are few bugs and no mosquitoes.
Michinda Boys Primary Boarding School is, I'm told, one of the best in Kenya. Boys come from all over the country to attend school here, and the enrollment is around 500. It sits on top of a hill surrounded by shambas (farms), and woods and the view is lovely. Everyone here is helpful and friendly. Amos, the headmaster, parks his car in the carport attached to my house, and stops to chat on his way to the office. Sometimes he brings me a newspaper and he often checks to see if I have enough fuel in my propane tank or if the milk was delivered in time for my coffee. Through the slats in the fence that surround the yard, the students peak in and wave and twice a day, and I see a man in a sport coat leading his cows out to pasture and then bringing them home in the evening. From the house, I can hear the kids in class reciting lessons, and after school, they have great football games in the field next to my yard.
This afternoon I went out for a walk around the campus. It was Saturday afternoon, free time for the boys. Some were out in the yard by their dormitory doing their laundry. They each have a plastic basin in which they put water from one of several taps. After washing the clothes in the basin, they hang them on the fence or on the clothesline. Other boys were playing hide and seek in the classrooms, which have absolutely nothing in them but desks...nothing on the walls, no pictures, no shelves, or supplies or books... they're bare. I knew some of the boys from our previous visit...the boys in the 4 K club, whose school garden project and spinning, knitting and weaving projects we support through FKSW. So for the rest of the afternoon, I had a dozen or more buddies to hang out with. We talked for awhile and then started the inevitable photo session...they love having their photos taken. They start out serious, and then get goofy, egging each other on so that the photos get sillier and sillier. There were 4 toddlers in the group today, children of some of the teachers, and the bigger boys kept posing them, one at a time, two at a time then 3 and 4. It was quite hilarious. We went to watch some boys playing chess which turned into me getting royally defeated by one of the boys in a game that they insisted I play. They're good! Then we went to see how the weaving was progressing, went to the school kitchen to see if I could get some onions, and finally, ended up watching the football game that was in progress in front of my house. There were three teams...one team sits out on the sidelines until a point is made, then the team that was scored against comes out and the 3rd team goes in. I think the same two teams were going in and out, because one team always seemed to score the points. The boys make the soccer balls from paper bags covered with plastic and then bound tightly with some kind of rope. They said the balls last about a month, then are taken apart and remade from the same paper bags with new plastic covering. They work well, and some of the boys are incredibly good players. The boys watching the game, the /audience/ they call themselves, cheer and sing and are quite engaged in the game. No one seems to mind that the same team keeps winning...they are all quite proud of the talents of the good players, and told me the name of each player as he made a good play.
Molo is not a tourist destination, but rather a rural agricultural town. There are no /wazungu/ (whites) here. From time to time, the reactions of the children are a comical reminder of how strange it must be to see a Caucasian. In town yesterday, a little girl who was probably about 7, noticed me standing outside of Samuel's car, and her face instantly took on a look that to me said she had just seen the most amazing, wondrous and entertaining thing she had ever seen in her life. Barefoot, and wearing a shiny bronze colored dress, she was beside herself with joy. She didn't say a word, but stood transformed, mouth wide open, hands clasped in front of her, beaming. I waved, but she didn't respond. She just beamed more, in complete ecstasy. It cracked me up. As we left Samuel's office several hours later, she was still there, had the same reaction, only this time she ran back and forth from side to side, her face alight. Not a word, not a wave, just beaming. Samuel, Karangathi and Chege were in stitches, too. Samuel thought that maybe she was a rural child who was now living in town because of the insecurity, and was seeing many new things that were unfamiliar to her. It made my day to have been, unintentionally and without knowing, really, what was going through her mind, the cause of such indescribable joy.
Molo is peaceful, much more so than when we were here 3 weeks ago. The news from Nairobi about the negotiations is so positive, people are encouraged, and all seems to be returning to normal. Three weeks ago, raiders were stealing cattle, burning houses, and the tension here was almost physical. The sound of gunshots was not uncommon. Today, on the hillsides around the school, I can see farmers, with the protection of the military, harvesting maize from the fields that they could not get to before without risking being shot. The police are still here at Michinda, at the gate, and around the perimeter of the campus, just in case. But there hasn't been an attack in the area recently. Still, out on the road, huge trucks, full of furniture, people and livestock are going in every direction, as people continue to leave for rural homes in more secure locations. Caravans of loaded vehicles, traveling together for safety, pass each other on the road, going in opposite directions. Yesterday, we passed a small pickup with such a huge load that the pickup swayed from side to side as it went along the road, looking like it was about to tip over. The belongings in the back of that pickup were probably piled 3 times as high as the truck itself. Shortly after, we passed a huge lorry, a truck taller than any I've ever seen in the U.S., piled about as high as it could be, and on top, the family's sofa. On the sofa, all the children sat, looking at the road ahead. We prayed that the driver didn't brake suddenly because that sofa probably didn't have seat belts.
Please send good wishes to Kenya for the peaceful resolution of the remaining issues. Many people here think that it's the pressure from other countries that has influenced the negotiation teams to move forward toward peace instead of moving backward or getting stuck in endless arguments. Whatever it is, things are looking good and it's beginning to feel again like the Kenya we've come to love. Best of all, people are happy and hopeful and there a lot more smiles and laughter than there have been since we arrived.
Salama,
Gwen
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