Life is Hard.

I have been putting off describing Kibera, because I’m not sure I can do justice to everything I see, hear, and learn- and there is also the fact that there is so much about this place that I can never know, being an outsider and mzungu (the designated name for white people- you always know the people around you are talking about you when you hear mzungu, mzungu!). So I ask that you please keep that in mind when reading this.

Most people know what a slum is, or have some basic understanding. Kibera is composed of 11 villages, holding over 1 million people (1/4 of the Nairobi’s population), making it the largest slum in Africa. Kibera first started on the outskirts of Nairobi, land given as a reward to the Nubians who had fought for the British during WWI; at the time Kenya was still a British colony. Kibera has always been designated as a ‘temporary’ settlement, and as a result, the houses are semi-permanent, constructed from mud and pieces of tin, to allow for easy demolition. Therefore, the government has no obligation to provide infrastructures such as water and sewer services. As a source of cheap housing, Kibera expanded drastically in population during the 1950’s with the migration of Kenyans from the rural areas, leading to an influx of Kikuyus, Luos, Luhya, and 38 other ethnic groups; 50% of Kibera today is rural migrants.

One of the interesting things about Kibera is how large the youth population is- the founder of CFK, Rye Barcott, examined youth culture in Kibera for this senior thesis. Because of the extremely high unemployment rates, youth are often prime candidates for engaging in crime. Because the government does not provide services, many criminal groups composed of youths act as ‘shadow governments,’ providing services that are lacking, regulate business practices within Kibera, and are often groups to hire by politicians to promote their political interests in the community. During the 1997, 2002, and 2007 elections groups such as the Baghdad Boys and Mungiki were recruited to instigate and further violence against opponents. Youth in Kibera even have their own language outside of Kiswahili, English, and their ethnic mother-tongue, called Sheng. Sheng is normally a mix of the languages, and is unique to each generation- Cantar tells me that his generation does not understand the Sheng of another generation, and vice versa. It even varies between different slums- a youth from Mathare slum doesn’t understand the Sheng from Kibera.

Along the lines of limited governmental services, security is rare. That means when the Women’s soccer team goes for a run, it has to recruit one of the males to go with them- Lucy told me that when they go out, they have to stay out all night because its not safe to return to their homes in Kibera. Rape is a huge problem, along with HIV/AIDS, youth pregnancy, and low intensity crime. Which, by the way, since there is little to no police presence, the public has taken it upon themselves to deal with petty theft with mob justice. A few days ago, just around the corner from CFK’s office, three boys were caught stealing a radio from a women’s home, and for punishment, they were stripped, cut with machetes, and would have been doused with lighter fluid and burnt to death if the village chief hadn’t intervened. Just another example of how perception shapes everything in cultural differences: what is justice? For whom?

And obviously, poverty is a huge problem. I’m building profiles for the G.H.E.T.T.O program girls, and most can’t afford soccer shoes to play in, and often describe hunger when talking about their lives in Kibera. Following this trend, many attend informal schools, and don’t make it past primary level- the girls described home problems being a huge pressure on their ability to perform in school. ‘Life is Hard’ was repeated over, and over, and over again.

The streets are lined with trash, and in some hills you can see how the years of trash and dirt have created layers on each other-one of the most heartbreaking things is to see the children digging through it. I would like to give a shout out to my Grandma, because the random animals that roamed the house and yard, leaving lovely presents behind wherever they go, made the dogs, chickens, and goats, roaming in and out of houses and throughout the streets seem normal, although I haven’t met anyone who has a sheep living in the house. Walking around the inner parts of Kibera requires skillful climbing, ducking, and maneuvering, in between tight pathways, up trash hills, and over giant sludge puddles (contents unknown), which I haven’t always been successful at avoiding. Knowing when to breath deeply and when not to in hopes of avoiding some extremely undesirable smells becomes an art.

Kibera is so full of life- despite all the difficulties and obstacles of daily life, there is so much color, vitality, noise, smells, and movement. From the shops on two sides of a road blasting reggae as if in a competition to who can be the loudest, to the shops painted in bright, in-your-face colors, the fires burning trash, the smells of unknown foods, and the constant shout-outs to friends and neighbors, Kibera is a community brimming to the top with culture and relationships. Here, you shake everyone’s hand in greeting- a welcoming, a connection, a signal of a friendship, even if you never see them again.

So just a beginning picture, and hopefully a beginning description to build on in the coming weeks, because I’m learning something new about it everyday. I'll try to get pictures up eventually, but the connection is terrible, plus, there is the whole sensitivity to Kiberans, so I haven't taken too many.

I’ve been continuing the work previously described, and I’m loving it- frustrating, slow, yet fulfilling, enlightening, and dynamic. Next post (and I’ll get to it sooner rather than later this time) will be more about the personal experiences I’ve had, but this post needed to happen first.

PS I saw baby elephants! And monkeys (the ones with the funny butts)! And a rhino!