Saturday, 16 April

‘Ei! So you’re a Muzungu?!’

The weekend begins.  I am up early at 5.30am.  I have been invited by a partner organisation to attend the launch of a resource centre / library in Itaava, Nzaui District, Makueni County, in the Eastern Province of Kenya.  It is about  3 hours drive from Nairobi.  I am going with a group of people in a hired bus.  I am told to be there for 7am as the bus leaves at 7.20am prompt.  With the week I’ve had, I’d rather do with a lie in but I’m looking forward to travelling ‘up country’, and seeing an example of development work in a rural area.  

Benja (Benjamin), a taxi driver collects me from home at 6.30am.  I am yet to travel on my own by bus in Nairobi.  Benja is a delightful character.  He tells me he’s a Mehru, an ethnic group in Kenya.  Within one minute of collecting me, he asks if I’m ‘Black American’ or ‘Kenyan’.  I tell him I’m neither - I’m from the UK, and from Ghana.  His reaction?  ‘Ei! So you’re a Muzungu?!’  That really makes me laugh.  Clearly, I’m not a ‘Muzungu’.  I try to explain to him as best as I can.  But as far as he’s concerned, it’s very difficult for people (by which he means ‘black’ people) to get into the UK.  He can’t comprehend it, so we talk about Ghana instead.  We stop at Prestige, a shopping mall, so that I can buy some food for the journey.  As we continue our short journey, he tells me about his West African friends and how aggressive they are.  His impressions of West Africans is that they are aggressive, they like to drink and use drugs, and they get into fights.  I ask him if he gets into fights.  He says that he’s a Christian and stays away from all that.  On the plus side, he finds them very intelligent and very knowledgeable, and so he likes to hang out with them.  I find his assessment of West Africans interesting.  I am not offended at all.  On the contrary, it’s nice to hear what other people think of my part of the world.  I also find that I’m not the only one guilty of forming stereotypes based on my own little world.  Benja drops me off at the Hilton at 6.55am.

African time - journey to Itaava, Makueni County

To cut a long story short, and to spare you my frustration, when we board the bus two hours later, having run through pouring rain from our shelter in front of the Hilton, it finally dawns on me that we are running on African time.  We are supposed to be in Makueni for 10.30am.  Between 9am and 10am we make two more stops on the outskirts of Nairobi to wait for latecomers to join us.  Finally, after much fretting on my part, and futile threats to leave and head back home, which if truth be told I only let on to my new friend, Nancy, whom I’ve just met on the bus, we’re on our way at about 10.30am.  

On the way there, I see some giraffes.  I’m excited but hardly have the chance to take a photograph.  The driver’s in a world of his own.  He’s racing on uneven bumpy road and seems hell bent on playing poker with our lives until we all shout out at him to slow down.  Some of the roads are terrible.  Still I can’t help but notice how amazingly red the earth is the further upcountry we travel.  

Finally, after what seems like forever, which it probably is as our 3 hour journey turned into a 6 hour one, we arrive in Itaava, Makueni at 1pm.  It is hot, humid, hot.  At this rate, I reckon I’ll be going back to Nairobi with a tan, darker than I already am!  But the scenery is beautiful - blue skies, low ‘hanging’ clouds.  

Africans helping their own

The sports tournament has already begun. There’s football and volley ball for men and for women.  The sports tournament is part of the celebrations for Youth Service Day, as is the launch of the resource centre, which we are here for.  Eventually, after a few hours watching the tournament, and occasionally shifting positions to find shade, we take a walk to the Resource Centre, donated to young people in the community by the Nyalita family.  It’s very basic, and very necessary.  I understand it’s the first of its kind in Itaava.  Itaava is a very small community.  Aggie, the young woman who invited me, is the brains behind this initiative.  She’s  mid to late twenties I think.  She tells us that this is where she grew up and this is where her family home is.  She is the last of the Nyalita family.  Her parents helpfully contributed the land and the structure for the community Resource Centre.  She has worked voluntarily on this project, even though she has a full time job in Nairobi.  As we trudge through an eroded path, she explains how she and her siblings walked barefooted to school along this pathway.  

The Centre is launched.  I’m very impressed with the generosity and commitment of this family, to help those less privileged in this very small community.  Another guy, Bux, a cameraman who works with South Africa Broadcasting Corporation (SABC) offers to make a donation of a solar panel, among other  necessities.   Everyone seems so keen to help.  I’m very happy to see how people here are supporting their own in the developing world, and I’m hoping to see more examples like these elsewhere.  It is one of the reasons why I’m here.  I find that there is not enough publicity in the West about how Africans are helping their own, compared to how much publicity there is about how international NGOs, and others, are supporting development work.  I have a couple of proposals for Aggie, and I promise to keep in touch.  

We head back to the school grounds for lunch.  We are served the traditional food here in Makuenzi which is ‘Muthokoi’ (beans and corn with meat).  Finally, it’s time for speeches and handing out trophies to winning teams of various tournaments which began the day before.  I am put on the spot to speak to this community which is made up of at least three of four generations.   I’m not sure what to say and I am not sure how many people will understand me.  The local language spoken here is Kamba.  I keep it simple and short.   I say a few words about what I’m doing in Kenya, and I tell them I’m touched by their efforts to support their own.  I wish them the best with their endeavours.  

More drama as we journey back

It is finally time to leave what has been a long but insightful day.  We leave at about 6.30pm to make the 3 hour journey back.  Unfortunately Bux of SABC collapses from hunger, exhaustion, heat.  We try to get some sugar down him to revive him.  He responds ever so slightly.  We stop to get him a soda.   Eventually we go in search of a chemist or pharmacy shop to buy him some anti-acids.  We find a 24 hour health centre where he’s taken in.  We wait.  This health centre is run by the Catholic Church and supported by USAID.   I can’t help but say ‘thank God’ for NGOs and the Catholic Church.  We don’t know what we would have done without it.  Bux is seen to and sent off on his way.  I tell him he should take better care of himself - he’d been living on half a cup of tea and a bottle of soda all day.  We continue our journey into Nairobi.  

I also speak to P, who runs Selfless International in another part of Kenya.  He set this up in February this year and the purpose is to support vulnerable children in that community.  I am very impressed with his work, which is all voluntary, and I talk to him about visiting some day.  Finally, we get into Nairobi at 11pm or thereabouts.  I have asked Benja to collect me and two other women I have travelled with.  It is now too late to get the bus back - buses stop running at 9pm and Matatus are dangerous to use at that time of the evening. Even as we walk to find Benja, Nancy, my new Kenyan friend advises me to walk along the street where there is more street light for fear of being a victim of pickpockets etc.  

Benja  gets me home for 12pm.  My host mother is waiting.  I give her an update of my day.  I take a shower, have a very late dinner and I stay up for a little bit watching CNN, my attempt at the end of an exhausting day to catch up with the rest of the world.