Lantern Donations Change Three Families' Lives

A few weeks ago, KGSA was happy to receive three Sun King Lanterns donated from the US to distribute to our students. So, by Abdul's suggestion we set up an essay contest for the girls to compete to win the three lanterns. Out of contestants from the entire school, we chose three winners whose essays were well-composed and demonstrated special need for lighting at home.

  

The first recipient was Marion Ogolla, a Form 1 student. She wrote, “I would use the lamp during my learning time and that can help me to minimize the amount of paraffin fuel that I have been using…I can also take it to my upcountry home for my family to make use of it because in my upcountry home, there is nothing like electricity.” Marion is currently 15^th in her class but hopes that the additional study time will help her improve her grades. She lives in a one room house in Kibera with her older brother who sells paraffin fuel (ironic considering we gave them an alternative to paraffin lighting) because he was unable to complete school due to lack of fees. Their mother lives in their rural home but has no income and her father was killed when she was only 10 months. She and her brother have a system where he is responsible for charging it during the day so that Marion can study with it at night.

We also chose Immaculate Seru as one of the winners, a Form 3 student. Immaculate’s father also passed away when she was young and so she is one of three sisters raised by a single mother. Her mother still stays at the rural home and has struggled to ensure that all three of her girls have continued to secondary education. Immaculate stays in Kibera with her sister who sells used clothes to support the whole family so they are often not able to pay for electricity. She writes, “As a student who wants to achieve my goals, I will first place the solar panel outside so as to gain more energy from the sun then when the time comes for me to use it, I will be ready without fear of payments.” She also mentioned that she will use it as a torch when walking at night “to avoid violent cases such as rape and robbery” which are common in her part of Kibera.

 

And the final lamp was awarded to a Form 3 student, Susan Adija. Susan wrote about how she needed the lamp because “the solar light doesn’t affect the health of a person since it doesn’t produce soot…which affects the eyes.” When there wasn’t money for paraffin she was “forced to come to school earlier to use the school light to do the homework.” This work ethic is clear as she is one of the five top students in Form 3. She plans to use the money she saves on paraffin to buy books. Susan lives alone with her father in Kibera who is a painter by day but an artist by night so the lamp is helping him to do his artwork after dark. Her younger siblings will move to Kibera when they have finished primary and will also be able to use the lamp during their secondary schooling.

             

All three families are incredibly grateful for the many opportunities that clean, renewable energy has provided for them: the ability to study, to ensure safety, and to save money for other necessities.We are very thankful to the donors in the US and to Joseph Nganga of www.solanterns.com for thinking of our school when distributing the donations. I also really enjoyed the opportunity to get to know three students' families, visit their homes, and get to know a little more about our students' home lives.

Shocker: Poor People Aren't Just in Kenya

US Census statistics: there are 43.6 million people living in poverty in America. Compare that to the 38.6 million people in the entirety of Kenya.

Many of the Kenyans I talk to and work with don't believe that poverty in the US exists. Makes sense when the only information they have to base their opinion comes from TV like Desperate Housewives and visitors that can afford to fly half-way across the globe.

But then when the U.S. Census Bureau defines poverty for a family of four as earning less than $21,945 in 2009 (63% of the entire yearly operating budget of KGSA) its hard to convince these same Kenyans that that truly is poverty. In the US, food can not be found inexpensively on street corners, housing can't be a lean-to of mud and sticks, a job can't be informally selling cigarettes, sunglasses or buckets. The 'developed infrastructure' of the US has smothered those under the radar opportunities for the American poor. Ironically, it is that same 'developed infrastructure' that almost every Kenyan I talk thinks is the reason for America's prosperity and Kenya's 'failure'. Nothing is unanimously good. Nothing is that clear and simple.

And even if most Kenyans would think that $22K would be well above poverty, the report where I got these statistics on Change.org argues that that number is actually incredibly low. How did the Census get that number? Without regard to regional differences in prices or taxes.

Change.org went on to compare the census poverty levels to the Self Sufficiency Standards calculated by the Center for Women's Welfare:

"It calculates the income a family needs to meet its bare minimum expenses without any outside assistance and it does this on a county by county, state by state basis (pdf).What this metric includes are "no frills" expenses like health care, clothing, rent and transportation. (Not included are expenses like car repairs, fast food and personal savings.) The result is a much more accurate measure of the minimum income needed for individuals and families to just get by. Currently, the Self-Sufficiency Standard has been calculated for 37 states and the District of Columbia. It shows a steep difference between the actual cost of affording basic necessities and the federal poverty line."

The result?

In Brooklyn, NY, a single adult needs $28,367, not $10,830 like the Census says. Note that this shows that for a single individual, you realistically need more than the Census says will sustain a family of four. In more affluent areas the differences are more stark. In Suffolk, NY, $86,245 is what it takes for a family of four, 391% more than the poverty standard.

So are there really only 43.6 million people living in poverty when according to this standard says that one in three households in Mississippi is living below the Self Sufficiency Standard? Probably much more. So listen up Kenya, sorry to break it to you, but there are poor people in the US.

Check out uspoverty.change.org for more.

My 'Final' Report

Thanks again to the Kathryn W. Davis for funding my work on the Solar Project! The Davis Foundation has published my final report on their site. But of course, this isn't exactly the final report. I leave at the end of October and have lots to do before then to ensure that everything falls into place and will continue to thrive after I leave. But for those interested, here is the to-date summary of my project:

Brightening Girls’ Futures with Solar Energy

Kenya

Kalamazoo College

Anne Baldwin (United States, Kalamazoo College)

anneatkgsa.blogspot.com

                This project’s aspiration is to empower girls, change gender attitudes and provide clean, reliable solar energy to Kibera slum by starting a solar assembling and marketing initiative and improving the science education at Kibera Girls Soccer Academy (KGSA). By learning about solar electronics and applying this knowledge to create a useful, high-quality, income-generating product, the KGSA girls will see the strength of their education and community activism and will be empowered to take their future into their own hands.

Arrival in Kenya and extensive research of the solar industry revealed that solar technologies are more available in Kenya than my pre-departure research indicated, thus leading me to restructure the products we were to build and sell at KGSA in several ways. First, my partners at Kibera Community Youth Program (KCYP) insisted that solar lighting was currently more marketable than phone charging and radio powering, as I initially planned in my grant proposal, so we instead made plans to build and market a small solar-LED lamp, which unfortunately has a higher cost of production than previously budgeted for. Second, finding that similar products did exist in Kenya, I needed to make sure that our product was competitive with these other lamps in order to ensure my project’s economic sustainability. Most solar companies in Kenya market large solar systems to for high-income customers that already have access to electricity. Though our partners at KCYP are the only ones in this niche market of small scale, affordable solar lighting in Kibera, there are a few companies marketing similar products in rural communities. Two of these companies sell a superior, hardier, more versatile and affordable product, and though these competing products are not in our local Kibera market yet, I wanted to ensure that I left the girls to a project that would not crumble if and when competition arrived. I first investigated the possibility of finding cheaper raw materials or redesigning our product so that we could out-compete these products while maintaining my original intention to have the girls selling the work of their own hands. Unfortunately, no redesign could lower the cost of production to enable us to out-compete these products because their low pricing was the result of large-scale, factory production. So instead, I formed a partnership with both those competitors so that we will be the official marketers in Kibera for both of these products: the Sun King Lantern (www.solanterns.com) and Thrive Energy Products (www.thriveenergy.co.in). This new project structure separates the educational and income-generating aspects of my project, but in doing so ensures the economic sustainability of the project. Finally, these new products are designed in a way that enables the girls to offer inexpensive lantern rental services (10-15 KSH per night). This will allow poorer demographics of Kiberans access to solar energy, replacing hazardous and unhealthy kerosene lanterns and enabling even the poorest of families to afford lighting for students to study by. 

The solar training worked beautifully in every way. The girls spent the first week of their August vacation with Sande Wycliffe and two assistants from KCYP. Having Kibera youth conduct the training was essential because the girls saw that people from their own community had been successful with this knowledge inspiring them to believe that they could too. Budget constraints forced me to focus the solar project on the KGSA students that would get the most out of the training: only the 21 students that selected to take physics as one of their science courses. The smaller group was useful because it allowed some of the more shy participants to get personal attention from the trainers and find their role in the group. The hands-on learning experience was wildly exciting to watch; every girl in the room lit up with excitement upon completing their own lamp. The lamps built during this training will be property of KGSA, available for any student to borrow to study for a night. During the rest of the vacation, the girls most interested in the project met to build a second lamp and discuss the future of the project. The girls themselves suggested formalizing our solar project into a Junior Achievement Company, like the KGSA Journalism Club. Junior Achievement (www.ja.org) is an NGO that teaches business through business by establishing self-sustaining, co-curricular companies run by students. Junior Achievement training will be starting in September and will help the girls establish a system of management, accounting, and a general framework for the company that will contribute significantly to the sustainability of this solar venture.

Another detail that became clear in the process of doing this project was that income generation and the computer literacy are both of major importance to KGSA. Since computer literacy is very much a part of complete science education in this era of information technologies and since the solar initiative generates income, I restructured my project to include improving KGSA’s computer education and to prioritize sustaining the income generation of the solar project. This led to a partnership with Jude Ndambuki of the Help Kenya Project (www.hkenyaproject.org), an NGO focused on bringing computers to Kenyan schools. Help Kenya Project fundraising, donations, and programs generously contributed to the sustainability of the solar project and the computer facilities of KGSA. Mr. Ndambuki was able to arrange a donation of computers and is making arrangements to set up two university students to work for a full year at KGSA through his Laptop Reward program. One student will be a computer science student in charge of giving regular computer skills lessons. The second student will be a business student working directly with the girls in the Solar Junior Achievement Company, ensuring that they are actively marketing and diligently accounting. This leadership will be doubled by Byronnes Khianga, a local businessman and ex-KGSA teacher that has taken special interest in the project, and by Boniface, the KGSA physics teacher, thus ensuring that this project will be active and income-generating for a long time to come.

And finally, I was able to equip the school with much needed textbooks and lab materials to improve the quality of KGSA’s science education. Though a private donor had recently built a modern lab facility at KGSA, we still lacked basic materials for physics labs and practical exams. Consequently, girls who took physics still were failing the lab portion of their classes. With grant funds we were able to buy a full set of physics lab materials, some glassware for chemistry classes, and a microscope for the biology. The girls helping me un-wrap the delivered materials were thrilled with the microscope especially, having never seen such an instrument before in their lives. Unlike chemistry where materials continually need replacing, physics labs have an incredibly low running cost once the initial materials are purchased, and I was honored to be able to afford these for my school. 

Despite the restructuring of the project, I feel that the economic partnerships and the system of leadership left behind ensure a bright future for the solar initiative. The computer facilities and instruction will equip the girls with the tools to innovate in the technology age. And the textbooks and equipment complete our science facilities, making it possible for KGSA students to achieve the test scores that will earn them scholarships to college.

While I was living in Kibera this summer, Kenya voted and approved a new constitution that provides the political infrastructure to mitigate corruption. In the buildup to the vote, there was worry that the post-election violence of 2007, that displaced thousands and resulted in violence in Kibera especially, would repeat itself. When the constitution passed without conflict, it was a phenomenal, momentous day in Kenyan history to enact such a powerful political framework and to do so peacefully despite differing tribal and personal interests. But one citizen interviewed on the news made and incredibly astute observation that has stuck with me since: “The absence of conflict does not constitute peace.” Every day that passes without any major conflict in Kibera does not necessarily signify peace. To me, peace is when people have the freedom to creat their own opportunity. When conflict results in violence and people don’t even feel safe living in their homes like in Kibera in 2007, they certainly don’t have this freedom. But even in a conflict-free Kibera, girls aren’t always free to a high-quality education or to have authority over their own marriage or body, so they don’t have that freedom either. They don’t have peace, even in a conflict-free Kibera. By giving girls the empowerment and the education to be active in their community and to achieve the grades to get a job or scholarship, they can create their own opportunities; they can have peace.

This project has created an enclave of peace at KGSA, fueled by 21 empowered girls, everyone in their community that they touch with their knowledge and confidence, and everyone that the project expands to after years of sustaining itself. What I realized in helping these girls start this project was that for all the poverty, insecurity and violence there is in Kibera, there is just as much opportunity, resilience and happiness. –Anne Baldwin

Msungu! Msungu!

For any (white) traveler in Kenya, these words are all too familiar. Msungu translates to "white person" in Kiswahili, but is generally accepted as a replacement for your name. But for me, a foreigner from a country where referring to someone by their race would get you shot, this word and all that comes with it offers a great example of the traveler's dilemma:

When you are a foreigner, there is a certain level of adaptation that constitutes being culturally sensitive. A certain amount of cultural differences that you just need to tolerate and learn to live with. But as these differences become increasingly uncomfortable and conflict with your cultural code to a greater degree... Where do you draw the line?

To those who haven't faced this dilemma, some examples are needed to explain what I mean by this.

As I walk to school, I have to walk through a primary school. As I was approaching today, I saw a sea of blue uniforms with all the tiny tots (probably in pre-school classes) out in the yard. "Uhoh... here goes," I think to myself. And as soon as they see me, I'm surrounded. I have a swarm of little ones chanting "Msungu!" and "Howareyouhowareyouhowareyou!" clinging to my arms and my clothes so I can't move. Children here are raised from the cradle with the charge to greet every Msungu with a hearty "How are you?" and so wherever you go, you need to tolerate the chanting, the greeting, the clinging. Benign enough, right?

But then we graduate to the next level of extra attention you receive as an obvious foreigner. This can be in any form--beggars increase their pleas for you, people walk the streets downtown trying to get you to sign up for a safari, come to their curio shop, or just rob you. I find myself having the same conversations over and over with random strangers of various levels of education--"I bet the US doesn't have traffic jams like this, huh?" "Oh you much love Obama, you know he's my brother?". This is frustrating to have people who know nothing about my country tell me how lucky I am to be from there because for reasons 1, 2, and 3 it is clearly infinitely better than Kenya. This is annoying as all get-out, especially considering that I am not in the US, I am in Kenya. If Kenya were such a bad place, would I bother to be here? But again, no one is hurt by these annoying conversations, nor by the assumption that you want a safari, nor by the child chants.

But then we get to the brand of Msungu attention that I think crosses the line--cat calling. In America, especially in the parts of America where I live, cat-calling is not appropriate. To me it is demeaning, objectifying, uncomfortable--it is sexual harassment, perhaps even considered sexual violence. And I think majority of American women would heartily agree with me. Right?

But here, its a common, accepted occurrence, and as I recently discovered it is not just something Msungu women deal with. I talked to the girls about it, asking is this normal? Is this ok? Do you feel insulted? Flattered? The consensus I got was that if you get attention, its because you have dressed in a way that attracted it. But yes, it does happen when it is uncalled for, and it can be insulting. Other times, they're hooting because you are "smart" (Kenyan for well-dressed), so then it is flattering. But then I know that I could be wearing layers upon layers and still get the calls. And I have never considered myself a racy dresser, but heck, if its hot I want to wear shorts, I want to wear a tank top, I want to wear a skirt... but I know that if I do, the attention increases. Should I change the way I dress to adapt to this discomfort? Or is this crossing the line between cultural sensitivity and changing who I am? Especially if that change won't change how I'm treated walking down the street. Because having tried different variations of dress... nothing has eliminated the harassment.

So, if this treatment really is going to happen regardless of my dress code, then how should I behave in a way that either shuts down the attention or makes it less hurtful to me? My host dad says that I need to just "make sure they know I don't take any joking" that even as a Nubian he could get harassed by different tribes, but the way he interacts with people keeps them from treating him that way. However, I feel like I already have tried this. My first two months in Kibera last year were rough, the harassment was making me wonder if my work here was worth the 15 minute walk every day.

So I adopted a harsh exterior, didn't respond even to the children's how are yous, didn't make eye contact with anyone, threw angry glances at anyone who said anything. But not only did the harassment continue with this attitude, I feel I lost a lot of opportunities at friendship, at feeling at home in the community. I heard of a previous KGSA volunteer who would just chat with everyone and really made a connection with the community. People would ask me "Where's Ashley? She was so free, not shy at all, I miss her!". This kicked me in the gut. I'm sure this Ashley character got the harassment too--how did she get over that and make so many friends. So this second time in Kibera, I decided I couldn't be the "rude Msungu" that walks by every now and then. I couldn't shut down possible friendships, not everyone who yells Msungu will then hit on me. And I love this attitude. I have friends all over Kibera, both women and men.

But just as I have shopkeepers that wave at me every time I walk by, I also have groups of men around Kibera who harass me every time I pass. One of these groups hangs out where I get off my matatu. The other day I alighted and immediately started walking quickly to avoid the inevitable hit-ons. But the man called me racist--"You don't want to greet me?" So he grabs me by the arm and drags me to greet each and every one of his friends. He wouldn't let go until I sharpened my tone and said "Hey!" too shocked to think of any Kiswahili. He put his hands up innocently and they all laughed at me as I walked away. I've had much worse than this occur to me, so I shook it off and never thought of it again.

A few days later, I was nonchalantly talking about things with my host dad and mentioned the incident. He immediately pulled a U-turn in the car, "They touched you?? We need to solve this right now." I was resisting, I didn't want to see those men again, but he drives right up to the corner where I said it occurred, rolled down the window and gave them a piece of his mind. The men there weren't the same ones, but the man there apologized on his friends' behalf and said he would talk to them about it. Abeyd even followed up the next morning, making sure he could address the whole group. Responding like that in the US might elicit some reaction, like a backlash, and they would harass me even more the next time I passed for having protested their behavior. But Abeyd was sure. "They wouldn't have done that to a Kenyan lady, they know they've done something wrong. They touched you."

So if the hooting, cat calling, and lude remarks are OK, how was I supposed to know that this incident crossed the line? In a foreign place, I don't know the cultural currency--what is OK and what is not--so people cross the line with me and I don't even know it. Every time anything like this happens, I blame myself for not carrying myself in such a way that avoided it or responding in a way that shut it down. But I've tried everything... what could I have done in that situation, honestly?

There is one thing I haven't tried. My host dad told me none of this would ever happen if I wore a hijab and tried to look like a Muslim. The girls agreed, when I asked them about this they agreed that for Muslims this isn't a problem. One of my Kenyan friends once mentioned that Kenyan Muslim women are so respectable, so upstanding--it would make sense that no one would mess with someone they respected or that they believed god protected. But shouldn't all women deserve respectful treatment? And what I can't really understand and what I culturally disagree with, is how could this treatment be considered normal and acceptable? Even by the women themselves? But is it worth lying about my religious and cultural identity to make life more livable in this place? Where do you draw the line?

Do You Give to Beggars?

Well then you most certainly want that money to go to good use, right? To help someone who is legitimately poor? To enable someone to buy food or pay school fees? And if you don't give to beggars, is that because you question that legitimacy? Or you think they should find another means to money? Or you think they are poor for a reason--alcoholism, laziness, too many kids, lack of education?

This Kenyan news report investigated the begging situation in Nairobi and discovered "beggar cartel" that makes 10,000 KSH (almost $125) per day from five crippled Tanzanian children.



In the section where the man and woman are answering questions in Kiswahili, they insist that the man has no other money with him, he has spent it all on iron sheets (used for roofs in places like Kibera) because he's building a house for the children in Tanzania. The woman tries to explain their living situation saying that they "live like husband and wife" and that she has no children of her own.

But they answer none of my burning questions like... How can you not feed these children? Keep them from education and care for their illnesses? How did you get them all from Tanzania? Where are their parents? And the talk of iron sheets and food can in no way explain all their expenses when they're reeling in nearly $3750 a month.

Though this situation is more grotesque than even the most skeptical givers could imagine, more predictable disrespect for the charity of others happens quite commonly.

Take Boniface, the KGSA Physics teacher, for an example. He makes no regular salary but still told me of a time he gave something small to a child begging in Nairobi. The child told some sob story about her mother dying. A block later, another beggar had the same story. Were these sisters? Or coworkers in another con-scheme?

On the Kenyan coast, "Beach boys" roam the beaches either selling crafts, camel rides, and snorkeling tours or just begging. One such boy claimed he just wanted "to improve his English" by talking to Adam and I on the beach. His chat turned into a repeated mantra: "Everything is nice in the US so you can't even imagine how people live here. If you could see my place... you couldn't even understand." The mantra transitioned into how pleased he was that a tourist he met on the beach had sponsored his school fees. He said he didn't want to 'hustle' on the beach anymore, but no one helps poor people with the money to start a business. We told him about microfinance institutions that actually do help poor people start businesses, and told him where to go for help. He nodded as if moved to act, but after a pause he went back to the mantra, only this time asking if we could sponsor his school fees. His breath smelled of alcohol.

My first time in Kenya, I had trouble rationalizing why I didn't give to beggars. Guilt led me to make a compromise: I would dedicate my donations to one beggar that I saw daily and then I wouldn't feel so guilty not giving to others. For six months, I gave any coins in my pocket to a crippled man in my neighborhood. Then one day, I saw him walking around... thats right, walking. He waved and smiled, not even trying to disguise his obvious lack of disability. I felt like a fool. So much that the next time I saw him "crippled" and begging, I didn't know what else to do but to give to him anyway.

Another time, Adam was moved to help two young rasta-looking men outside a grocery store. So we buy them each a loaf of bread, despite my stingy suggestion that one would be enough for the both of them. But when we arrived outside, the men complained about why we didn't buy them any milk to go with the bread. Then a woman and her child and an older looking man asked us if we had bought for them too. We suggested they share, but the rasta-men refused and asked if we could pay their matatu fare. I was appalled.

It is people like these, especially those in the news feature, who erode the goodwill and generosity of people everywhere. But how do we sort through this situation and still manage to help the people around us who would take that 20 shillings and feed their child? I try to find some reason in the way Kenyans pick and choose who to give to:

I had one Kenyan friend who despite being strapped for cash would always give, even take from my pocket without asking to give. But when I asked him why he still gives despite the fact that some are con-men, he said, "What does it matter? Will you miss that five shillings? It could have fallen from your pocket."

When I ask about this news report and what to do, many of my friends insist that only giving food is the way to go to avoid being conned--but you could still go wrong and give to some jerk like the ones outside the supermarket.

Then of course, there is the philosophy that you could just give to a reputable organization and let them decide who really needs help. But can you really tell what organizations are reputable? My friend Caroline who volunteered at KGSA told me of her roommates in Kenya who paid to volunteer at an orphanage that turned out to be a day-care that solicited itself as otherwise to make extra money. Clearly these roommates thought that was a reputable organization before deciding to cross an ocean, but they were also conned. And even reputable organizations can give money to truly needy people and still not really help. Many well-intentioned charitable efforts have worsened people's lives or developed dependency.

I don't think the moral of the story is to let skepticism destroy our generosity... but I'm not sure what the moral of the story is.What is the situation of charity in this world of clever thieves? When and how do we give to make sure we're helping the poor, not the con-men, of the world?

To Blog or Not To Blog

So it appears that I have not mastered the art of doing cool things AND blogging about them. But combination of events and influences has made me realize that I really should be putting more priority on blogging, and you should too! Everyone has an internal dialogue of what they're experiencing and what they're learning from it. So why should this dialogue be internal? In the words of Jessica Colaco, "Start a blog, people." We all have something to say and we all love something to read online to avoid work, right? The run down of my life and project in the last month or so:

Kenya's proposed constitution passed! It was a historic and momentous event in Kenya and I was happy to be here. Now Kenya has the political infrastructure to mitigate corruption, address historic injustices dating back to the colonial age, redistribute land more equitably, stand up for human and civil rights, and govern more efficiently and effectively. Of course, implementation still has its issues, but I believe this document lays the groundwork for progress. For a more detailed and professional opinion, check out this article on the Afronline blog.

The Solar Training and Construction with KCYP was a grand success! After closing of school for an August vacation, twenty one physics students spent part of their holiday learning about solar technology. Kibera Community Youth Program has been building and assembling solar lamps and installing solar panels since 2004 and conducted a solar training with our girls. In this training they learned about solar circuitry, climate change, marketing skills, and best of all, they learned to assemble solar lamps. The girls lit up with excitement as they saw their education create something so useful and applicable to their day to day life. In Kenya, school curricula are usually lecture and memorization based, rarely as interactive and hands on as what we did during this training. The difference in teaching style was hugely successful, the girls were energetic and engaged and proud of their new knowledge. I myself was too busy taking pictures during the building session and got started on my lamp later than most of the girls. I couldn't work for more than 2 minutes without a girl showing me "that I was doing it wrong", taking the soldering iron out of my hand and doing it for me. This unwanted help was hugely frustrating because I selfishly wanted to build a panel too, but it was also incredibly heartwarming to see that the girls were so proud of their knowledge that they would show the teacher how its done.

I restructured the marketing side of the solar project to ensure profitability. After some extensive market research, I found that though there weren't competing products within Kibera, there were some other products on the market-- products that were cheaper, tougher and more versatile than the study lamps we were building. It was only a matter of time before these competing products came to Kibera and put my girls out of business. So we changed our structure: the lamps the girls have built will be kept at the school for girls to take home to study at night since many of their family homes do not have electricity. Meanwhile, the solar girls will be developing a co-curricular Junior Achievement solar company that will be partnered with two solar businessmen in the region: Joseph Nganga and the Sun King Lantern and Raju Prasad and Thrive Energy Lamps. The company will sell and rent a variety of highly reputable solar lamps and work with KCYP to install full size solar systems.

Thank you so much to the 

Davis Foundation 100 Projects for Peace Grant 

for funding this endeavor!

A partnership with Jude and Bernadette Ndambuki of the Help Kenya Project is in the works! The Help Kenya Project is a phenomenal NGO that transfers donations of computers, books and other materials from the US (Westchester, NY) to Kenyan schools. They have donated to hundreds of schools all over rural Kenya and hope to add KGSA to this list. In addition to donating computers, Jude has a Laptop Reward Program that offers a free laptop to university students that commit a certain number of volunteer hours at Jude's schools. Jude and I will be arranging for two laptop students to work at KGSA over the next year. One will be a computer science student responsible for teaching the girls basic computer skills, and the other will be a business or engineering student responsible for leading the solar girls Junior Achievement company. With this long-term, local leadership, I can be sure that the solar company will not fizzle out and die after I leave Kenya.

I went to the G-Kenya Google Conference and it changed my life. The GKenya conference made me wish (again) that I had a degree in computer science. The conference was all about increasing Africa's web presence by encouraging local developers to create locally relevant and accessible content. Americans tend to look at the developing world as some place that's behind the ball, some place that will eventually "catch up to us". But really, here in the developing world, the possibilities are much wider. The internet culture of Africa has yet to be established because things are just beginning: the cost of internet access is dropping, the number of internet users is skyrocketing. It is the time for African businesses to ride this wave, get online and make some money. Check out this video of the entrepreneurship panel session that concluded the conference.

ADAM VISITED! and it was spectacular. Most of the visit was busybusybusy because we were in the last few days of my grant funding and had to tie up loose ends with the project. During this time, it was great to have a partner to see things in a new light, meet people in a new way, help me brainstorm and implement the details of my project. Then since no trip to Kenya was complete without either a safari or a beach, we opted for the latter and spent a few days on the coast eating fresh fruit and fish, relaxing, snorkeling and having an amazing time. This travel led me to see a whole new brand of poverty. On the coast, the rich European tourist and the landless, jobless, uneducated poor clash creating a dynamic almost more desperate than Kibera. More on this later...

I went to a Makers Faire 2010 and got psyched about income generating projects. What exactly is a Makers Faire? I was wondering that too when I arrived, originally told it was a solar conference. It was an event with booths and speeches from different innovators or groups around Kenya that had something they had "made". This was anything from arts and crafts, to web applications, to solar lamps, to income generating projects. I was most interested in the latter and stumbled across some groups that build bio-fuel jikos (stoves) to replace kerosene cookers and groups that build machines to press bricks to allow more sophisticated building rural areas or urban slums. I also heard about Kibera News Network, a youtube news channel straight from Kibera, trying to broadcast beyond the doomsday-biggest-slum-in-the-world press that usually makes it to the western world. Check it out!

I went to a Teach a Man to Fish workshop about sustainable education. Just walking to the school like any other day, I realize that KGSA is hosting a workshop by Teach a Man To Fish, an NGO promoting a 3 part philosophy of sustainable education: 1) schools should have interactive, hands-on learning 2) schools should be coupled by income generating projects that integrate the community, students and staff and 3) schools should become self sufficient through these income generating projects and not depend solely on government or donation funding. This really echoes the philosophy at KGSA as Abdul and the other administrators are pushing for the seed capital to start different projects that will fuel KGSA's running costs. This event was great to network with other Kenyan educators and to meet the famous Jamie, another member of the KGSA volunteer family that I have heard about but never met.

What now??... My return ticket technically says October 1st, but I'm not sure I'll be ready to pack up and leave in 15 days. I think I need more time to really get things solidified with the solar project. We still haven't done any marketing or solidified the rental procedures. We haven't started Junior Achievement business training. Jude and I haven't selected the university students that will be overseeing our computer lab and solar initiative. And on the other hand I'm tempted to take the ideas from the Google conference, get my hands on some web development skills, and go into business getting Kenyan business on the web. Jude is also really interested in taking the solar project to another level. Both of these would be something new for me... but I am at the most risk-safe point in my life right now. Just graduated, no job, no family... why not? But of course I miss home, I miss my family, I miss not being a foreigner, I miss not being called "Msungu", and I miss all the cushy comfort of a 9-5 job with paycheck. After all, whether I leave in October or later, eventually I will leave. So maybe it would be best for the sustainability of the solar project if I just hustle to get the leadership in place and push them to get the solar project fully initialized. Thoughts?

All in all, I have much more to say about all these things, so stay tuned for more!

Get the New Magazine!

Support the girls! Learn about Kibera! The quarterly Shedders magazine is the product of the KGSA Journalism club. Everything that goes into the magazine is the girls work: Girls choose, write, and edit the stories, Girls take the pictures, Girls get the profits of the magazine sales (for the club that is). Order one for yourself, your family, your grandma, your dog!

Go to this link to order your copy of the second ever issue of Shedders and support KGSA!

Things Are Happening Too Fast

So many things have been happening with my project that I haven’t been able to keep up with writing about it. I’ve been through ups and downs, with good news and bad news, with too much to do and too little. I’ve been both so excited about it that I don’t ever want to leave and so frustrated that I want to board the next plane out.

But as I look retrospectively at all these ups and downs, I realize they are the result of the tug of war between what I want to do to help KGSA and what is realistically achievable with my limited time, means, energy, and funding. With my remaining two months, I am attempting to address one small need, of one tiny school, in one community, of one country, in a whole world full of people with other needs. Even just looking at KGSA, my work dwindles in comparison to what needs to be done, and it’s easy to get disheartened.

But I’m trying to stay constructive, realistic, narrow and flexible. My central goal is to promote women in science by 1) improving the science education at KGSA and 2) assisting the Form 4 girls in science in transitioning to post-graduate scientific endeavors. So the solar project aligns with both goals in that it gives the girls an exciting, educational lab component to their physics curriculum and gives the girls job skills in an emerging scientific industry in Kenya. But I’m realizing that the solar project will by no means be sufficient in reaching those two goals, and those two goals are perhaps not the only things KGSA needs that I could work for with my time here.

Right now, the solar project is scheduled for next week. The materials are all on hold and I am currently in the process of transferring the money for the purchase. We have 15 girls picked out: eleven Form 3 and 4 physics students, and four eager Form 2 students that we hope will pursue physics after this project. I originally wished to have all the girls make panels, but I’ve decided to focus the solar project on a smaller more realistic group of girls who will get the most out of it: those already with some interest in physics who would be more inclined to work in a career that needs electronics skills. It also wouldn’t make sense to have girls with no class work in electronics building panels--they won't understand what they would be doing.

I also have made some important discoveries and connections that are helping me to redirect the solar project in a more effective and sustainable direction. My first discovery was rather disheartening, but vital to my project’s success. Byronnes Khianga, a previous teacher at the school and Electrical Engineering graduate, heard about my project and wanted to introduce me to a close friend of his who is in the “solar business”. It was a typical Kenyan meeting in that this solar friend was late to our appointment, so late in fact he never showed up. So Byronnes friend’s son showed us the solar products his father was selling. I expected this connection to lead to a new source of raw materials that could help us lower the cost of production of our lamps, but this man didn’t sell raw materials, he sold already manufactured versions of our product. He sold 4 different versions of our lamps: all slightly different in design and of different sizes, all in flashy plastic cases with impressively constructed external panels, all imported from factories in India, all significantly cheaper than we could ever possibly offer. So after the initial impulse to cry and wallow in self pity, Byronnes and I talked things over and decided on a redirection.

We still need to construct the solar panels with KCYP for educational purposes. We have ordered enough materials for each person involved in the project to make two panels. This will allow us to keep an established fleet of panels at the school for girls to check out and take home to study after dark when necessary. The remaining 20 or so panels we can market within Kibera or in the rural areas to people that can afford our price. As impressive as the imported panels are, this man has only casually sold them and has done little to no marketing. So at least our first fleet of panels for sale will have a market, maybe even a second fleet. From this experience, the girls will be educated in basic electronics, basic marketing and basic solar concepts—making perfect candidates to market our products or the imported Indian products. So our hope is that we can work with, rather than against, Byronnes’ friend. Since he has yet to market them in Kibera, what would be better than someone who is extensively familiar with both the product and the market where they will be sold?

Sande at KCYP was entirely un-intimidated by the new products and doesn’t want to abandon further construction. He is confident that the Indian products are of lower quality, comparing them to what are called “China phones”: flashy, attractive, yet poorly made phones imported from China that notoriously break down quickly. Kenyans love having an impressive phone and are teased into buying the gaudy, inexpensive China phones, but after a wave of broken down phones the phase passed and the phones have become infamous. Sande insisted that these Indian panels would be the same in the solar business. When they hit the market but break down, it will actually increase business for us because our product is high-quality and comes with locally available service. He wants to buy and take apart some of the Indian products to get ideas for how to improve our product. He also wants to investigate where these Indian companies get their raw materials. If they are indeed high quality goods, we should look into importing our raw materials from their facility in order to lower our cost of production.


One of my favorite pictures of Abdul

So all in all, the discovery of these products is good news disguised as bad news. From these products we can learn how to improve our own or we can focus on the construction project to an educational endeavor and market these imported products for greater profit and sustainability. And regardless of what direction we go, refining our product or shifting our focus to marketing, this new direction lowers the cost of the solar project so I can consider spending my grant on other ways I could encourage KGSA girls in science. This discovery has also opened my eyes to what scientific careers really consist of in Kenya. Careers in research and development or manufacturing of scientific products are rare in the Kenyan scientific context. Kenyans with degrees or careers in science are more typically involved in marketing of scientific products or electronic maintenance and installation. So the solar project still gives them valuable experience for such careers, but my idea of this project preparing them for jobs in scientific manufacturing industries is unrealistic.

As money and time allows, these are some ideas I have had to encourage KGSA girls in science:

1) Bring speakers and visitors to the school that would be empowering and knowledgeable about what it takes to get a job in science in Nairobi

2) Make connections at scientific industries or with electricians around Nairobi and pair students up with mentors to job shadow with

3) Have Sande train some of the graduating seniors in large scale solar panel installation and funding them to start a business installing panels around Nairobi

4) Put together fun projects and lesson plans for the after school Science Club to boost involvement with the younger students

5) Purchase materials for the physics lab so that the physics curriculum is more complete and to make physics a more tangible subject

6) Improve the consistency and quality of science teaching at KGSA by funding a training of the science teachers by U of Nairobi science professors and paying them a consistent salary so that they stay at KGSA for the long term

But I realize that boosting women in science is not all I can do with my time here. I’ve been meeting with other organizations and people working in Kenya and have been collecting ideas for how to improve KGSA.

My plans for KGSA more broadly are to:

1) Improve communications and organization at the school. There is so much going on at the school and only a few people (Abdul, Teka and Ryan in the US) know about all of it. As much as Kenyans are comfortable with a laissez faire way of organizing things, and as much as I don’t want to be the haughty msungu to trump into KGSA and do things in an “American” way, I believe that if things are better communicated and publicized, we could more effectively market the school for donations and we could more effectively delegate school responsibilities and funds to different programs. Of course I’m not the first person with this idea and this is much easier said than done. Abdul, Teka and Ryan have been trying to organize things better since the school began in 2006, but I believe this goal is so central to KGSA that I want to be a part of this effort while I’m here.

2) Get more computers for the school and hire someone to teach computer skills. I feel that computer skills are probably one of the biggest advantages to have in the Kenyan job market. Just yesterday I was hanging out in the school library helping one of the girls start an email account. She didn’t even know how to delete typed text with a backspace/delete button. Growing up with computers all around me, I can't even remember a time when I didn't know that. If our girls graduated with decent competence in computer skills, a huge number of jobs would be opened for them. I am interested in walking into the Nairobi Google office sometime this month and convincing them to invest in the school’s computer resources. Perhaps this will be just another depressing rejection by the Google Company for me, but I have faith that even if Google isn’t the company to do it, we can find money for computer classes for the girls someday.

3) Revamp the student groups and promote student leadership. The many extracurriculars at KGSA have a mixed record of success. In one hand we have the Journalism Club: an entirely student run “Junior Achievement Company” that publishes a quarterly magazine about Kibera and the school. The magazine is sold around Kibera and internationally online. But on the other hand, we have the Science Club, the Human Rights Club, the Scouting Club… all unfunded clubs that, as far as I know, do little more than exist at KGSA. Perhaps these clubs are just another part of KGSA I know little about and they actually are active and functional, but I doubt it. I feel that with a little attention and funding, these clubs could blossom into something as great as the Journalism Club. Also, when I wonder about how I can help the school, I often think to myself that maybe the girls themselves have the best idea. There is a complicated system of class prefects and student leadership that I barely understand, but I haven’t seen too much evidence of the girls being involved in the planning of how to improve KGSA. I feel that this student leadership would help Abdul and Teka who are always busy planning things for the school, but could also be valuable experience for the girls.

4) Individually interview the graduating class about their post-graduation plans and guide them through the transition process. Since the girls don’t graduate until December or January, I am here at the wrong time for this, but I could get a head start now or find a way to stay here until then. I am definitely able to help girls make CV’s and resumes and I could help connect them to people in their industry of interest. I can’t really guarantee that I would be able to get them all jobs or scholarships, but a go-to person or career counselor that could help them search and prepare for the transition couldn’t hurt.

Some of what I aspire to do is probably already being done by Abdul, Teka, Ryan, and the other msungus working at the school. And even in writing my analysis of what’s going on at the school, I feel like I, as a visitor to the school, am in no place to really judge how things are being done and how they should be done. But I think as I enter my 4th month on the ground at KGSA, my 8th month on the ground in Kenya, and my 3rd year in love with Kenya, its time to stop watching and start doing. I’ve learned enough about Kenya to help with an open mind and an open ear; I can help without being “that haughty msungu” stomping in to change things.

Getting a Feel for Life in Kibera

The walk from my home to the school weaves through backroads and neighborhoods that show me new flavors of life in Kibera. I walk past gaggles of unemployed men who day after day just sit idly, chewing mirra leaves, waiting for life to change. I walk past ladies selling vegetables or electronic parts, men pulling carts of water jugs or trash bags—doing anything that pays. I walk down the railroad and am struck by a spectacular view of Kibera, hills and hills of sheet metal stretching as far as the eye can see.

And I walk right past the heart of the post-election violence of December 2007. I see the open space where political rallies started then and are still commonly held now. I see the remnants of houses that have been burnt to the ground and covered in graffiti. Unsurprisingly, the previous inhabitants of the burnt houses were Kikuyus—the tribe of President Mwai Kibaki who many think unrightfully won the election. The violence dissipated when the Luo runner up, Raila Odinga, became Prime Minister. But as is the case with most African coalition governments, it appears as if “Prime Minister” is more of a title than a true governing position. But despite the current peace, those burnt homes are not rebuilt, those inhabitants have not felt safe enough to return, and displaced people still live in tents in the rural areas.

Coming August 4th, Kenya will vote again. This time it is a referendum vote on a new constitution written to help reduce corruption. I have considered vacationing to my old homestay in Kariakor for the vote just to make sure I’m out of the warzone, but I don’t expect history to repeat itself here. The referendum seems to have at least 70% of Kenyans in favor, with the division seemingly less tribal. And more importantly most politicians are in support of it. So with the “corruptors” on the majority side, I don’t see a huge incentive to rig the results. And without rigged results, I don’t expect such violence to return to Kibera.

And Kenyans are committed to keeping the peace after this election. “Katiba Mpya, Kenya Moja”, meaning “New Constitution, One Kenya”, is a popular slogan for the Yes campaign. Other non-partisan advertisements show pictures of the 2007 violence and say “whichever way you vote on August 4th… never again”. Then my favorite peace advertiser, a local artist called Solo 7, is all over Kibera once again. After the 2007 election, Solo 7 painted the words “Keep Peace” in hundreds of places around Kibera. But as I walk my old routes in Kibera and discover new ones, I realize that Solo 7 is back at it again. I find notes like “Vote Peacefully, Kenya” and “Chagua Katiba kwa Amani” (Vote for the constitution with Peace) around in his familiar handwriting and I’m warmed by his mysterious messages.



Speaking to my Kenyan friends I am sorry to find their commitment to peace coupled with political apathy about the vote. “Will you vote?” I ask them. “Maybe” or “If I find time” or “If the line isn’t long”. It hurts a little hearing these responses, but I guess I can’t blame them after a long history of rigged elections and one of the highest corruption perception indexes in the world. I was incredibly refreshed in talking to one of my new friends Richie. He is a recent Communications graduate and found a job working for the “Vote No” campaign. But after working for a while, he finally read the constitution through and decided that he could no longer work for the No team. He felt he was misleading people, he said, he felt that the new constitution empowered our women. It was like music to hear something like that out of a Kenyan man. It was also inspiring that he would turn down a paycheck for what he felt was right for his country. I would be surprised if with these attitudes, Kenyans would still turn to violence this August.

As for my living situation, things have certainly calmed down since the devil worshipping shindig. The next day they finished exams so I picked them up from school and we went for ice cream and got ingredients to make guacamole. Miriam went nuts, hugging me like we were best friends and hadn’t seen each other for years. She trotted me around her school making sure everyone in her class saw her msungu sister. We came home and ate our snack in front of the typical music videos and after that Miriam lost interest in me pretty quickly.

Little GD on the other hand has become my second shadow. I come home from school and he and the other neighborhood kids are playing soccer in the street and I love to join in, we live on a secluded enough nook that I don’t get too many looks. But then the moment I decide I’m done, he is too, getting yelled at for taking the ball with him. Then he’ll settle in on the couch next to me to watch TV and when I’m not looking scoot closer. His habits get a little more pesky and less adorable when we get into my personal space. He creeps outside my door to see what I’m doing in my room and doesn’t have the whole knocking thing down so well. And when the door is open he’s buzzing behind me reading what I’m doing on my computer.

Then his worst habit is that he’s an early bird and wants to spread the joy. At 7am on a Saturday, I startle from a dream and BAM he’s right there sitting on my bed, patiently waiting for me to get out of bed. I was surprisingly patient with him that time and when I eventually decide I can’t go back to sleep, I follow him down for breakfast. Then today, I’m struggling with some allergies or a cold, but I open my eyes at 7:30am and he’s sitting there again, this time at my desk silently messing around with my little alarm clock. This time it’s not so cute: I feel terrible, I wanted to sleep in today and so I tell him to leave. He does, but comes back in and I open my eyes to see him there again. So then I’m a little harsher and he leaves for good, but leaves the door open. With the noise from the TV and from people in the kitchen and other life going on in the house, I realize I just can’t sleep in.

Asia works a lot but things are getting a little less busy as her social work organization runs out of funding for the season and the school she works at closes after exams. My new home is a lot busier and noisier. Asia always has music playing (which is usually a good thing) and she loves to go out dancing. With Salomi only speaking Swahili and with the kids loving to speak to me in Swahili, I’m getting a lot better at it. The other day in the matatu, we were stopped at my stage and I was getting off with some other people. But before I had gotten out, the traffic cleared so the driver started driving and I yelled at them to stop there in Swahili, nothing fancy. Not only did they stop to let me out, but everyone in the matatu turned to look at me incredulously. As I got out the driver was saying “Ngai! Msungu anasema Swahili?” (Shoot! The white girl speaks Swahili?) I was pretty pleased with myself.

The living here is pretty much the same as Kariakor except for a little excitement we had the last couple of days. Someone stole or tampered with the transistor that supplies electricity to my block. Evidently some oil that is in the transistor is incredibly valuable, so people steal it and sometimes are burned or electrocuted in the process. Then instead of promptly coming to fix it, the Nairobi Electricity Company dragged their feet waiting for residents to bribe them to fix it faster. I was happy to see Asia giving them a piece of her mind instead of giving them a wad of cash. But despite her angry efforts, we were out of power for 3½, almost 4 days. Take from that what you will: money talks.

But overall, life here is good. Sometimes I still feel like there’s too much down time. I have been rather uninspired to write because things are happening so fast and my private time at home is harder to find. I feel like I have everything and nothing to do all at once. But by living here, even when I’m doing nothing but hanging out in Kibera, I’m learning things and meeting people that are helpful to my project.

Slum Survivors: The Documentary that put KGSA on the Map

IRIN - Slum Survivors
Uploaded by OneWorldTV. - News videos hot off the press.

Abdul started Kibera Girls Soccer Academy in 2006 when he realized the girls on his soccer team were without school fees, putting them at risk for early marriage, prostitution, and getting stuck in the poverty of Kibera. So with his own money, he started an informal free school. Luckily, these documentary makers found out what Abdul was doing and made this video. It starts off rather grimly telling the stories of women who struggle to feed children and battle AIDS and men who are tempted into crime or forced to work rather undesirable jobs to provide for their families. But then the video ends on a positive note, telling the story of Abdul and KGSA. (If you're interested, this is also available on YouTube in 5 parts and the fifth part gives the story of the school.)

Abdul now refers to this video as the beginning of our international attention. Since this documentary, international NGOs have made relationships with the school and generous donors have helped us build the facilities we work in today. Many students like me have come to work at the school, bringing grant money and ideas for how to give these girls a better future. Hopefully our international attention continues to grow to help us complete our facility, pay our teachers, improve the quality of the education we offer and give girls opportunities after graduation.

News Flash! Pop Industry Full of Devil Worshippers

So I’ve officially moved in with my new host family in Kibera. I remember Abdul excitedly telling me about how he’d found a young, wonderful family near Olympic (a part of Kibera) that would be willing to host me during my project. I remember being thankful but hesitant. I know people can make a decent living here in Kibera, and not all the structures here are shanties of mud and metal. But last time I was in Kenya, I wasn’t even comfortable enough to drink the water offered me here and every time I ate here I wondered if I would get sick and I was terrified every person I passed would rob me. I’ve come a long way, but am I ready to live here?


Well, Abdul was insistent and took me to visit the house of Abeyd and Asia on one of our first outings together. Asia wasn’t there for my first visit but sounded great. She is a young social worker who conducts civic education workshops around Nairobi. Abeyd was kind and business-like and seemingly quite well off. Driving his car to pick us, he pointed out the house of his other wife on the way. This was intriguing to me, but to others I’m sure a tad too different from the norm to be comfortable. Mariam, a twelve year old in Class 6, was home sick from school and politely served us soda while I visited. Her little brother, Abdulrahman (GD for short) is 8 years old in Class 3 but was not there for my visit. Upon meeting Asia another day, we instantly connected. She is energetic, charismatic and seemingly liberal and modern for being one of two wives.

And as for my concerns about living in Kibera, I decided to be abrupt with my questions. Running water? Reliable electricity? Non-squat toilets? My own room? Safety in the neighborhood? The ‘me’ of last time in Kenya would have been too shy or guilty to ask for these American niceties. But hey, I’m going to live here and I’m undeniably American, so the ‘me’ of today decided that it was better unashamedly ask for these luxuries rather than tough it out to be polite. I was even up-front about paying. Of course I can’t expect to stay for free, but Kenyans are too polite to pull out the business talk on first meeting, so I decided to be the abrupt one. But everything went fine and all their answers sounded good. So I decided to move. I was distraught to leave the comfort and love of my family, Monica and Chippa. But after all, I’m here for a project, so my location can’t hamper how much I can do at the school and Kariakor is too far.

So here I am, moving in midday on a Wednesday. The kids are at school; Abeyd and Asia at work; so I meet Solemi, the house help (maid) from Uganda. Most house helpers don’t know English so I’m ecstatic to become best friends and improve my Kiswahili. But simultaneously Solemi is ecstatic to meet me to improve her English. So as she ironed clothes I kept her company continually chatting in Kiswahili with her agitatedly trying to direct the conversation to English. So we bantered back and forth continually trying to change the language until eventually, we’d both be unable to express ourselves or understand the other on the current topic, at which point conversation would chug to an awkward halt. I’d pretend to be preoccupied looking out the window and she would intensely concentrate on ironing until one of us decided to try out a new topic. I can tell we’re going to be best friends.

Then I end up passing out for an unexpected nap while reading my book. I hear a doorbell in my sleep and later am shocked awake by Mariam poking her head into the room, eyes wide to see this crazy msungu addition to her family. So I go downstairs to spend time watching cartoons with the kids and am interested to see Where in the World is Carmen San Diego on the TV. I used to watch that!

I realize all too quickly that the silent, polite Mariam of last time was the Mariam-around-adults personality. Here at her mercy with only Solemi and little GD, I got a much more uncensored variety of Mariam. Our conversation went a little like this…

“What type of music do you just love, Anne?”

“Oh I don’t know, I like almost anything. Here in Kenya I like the Tanzanian music and those guys from Nigeria—“

“Well for me, I like crrrrunk.”

“Oh… what type of music is crunk, exactly?”

“Oh you know, like Kiss FM and this other channel, Hits 105”

“Um… you mean hip hop?”

“Not hip hop! Crunk is more like, you know, the rappers are so constantly rapping.” This is sounding like hip hop to me, but Mariam excitedly changes the channel to show me some music videos of this crunk she loves. She settles on the station playing some Brandy.

“This is crunk?”

Mariam says incredulously, “This is not crunk!! This is R&B, crunk is different. But for me, you know I want to be a musician.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, like my favorite artist, my most, most favorite artist is this Justin Beiber. You know he’s only 16? So amazing. I don’t know how he goes to school and sings so nicely and is so famous all at the same time,” Mariam waves her hands for emphasis.

“You know, I bet he doesn’t go to school.”

-gasp- “What? How terrible. For me, education is so important, I would never do that. He should go to school.”

Taking a chance to try to be a good influence I start, “Yea education really is imp—”

But I’m totally cut off by Mariam excitedly diving into a new topic, “You know, so many artists are devil worshippers,” she says with so much distaste she’s almost spitting, “like Beyonce, you know she is the worst devil worshipper...”

“Whaaa? Where did you hear th— ”

“And Rhianna and Jay-Z and… You know that song ‘Run this Town’? What they really mean is that they will rule the town with the devil,” again Mariam is getting physically affected by the intensity of what she’s talking about.

“Really, wow, well we really don’t think that back in the US, maybe that’s just one interpreta— ”

Never allowed to finish a thought she continues my music re-education. “Yes and all these artists confess they are in fact devil worshippers, and they all say it’s because of Jay-Z, you know he converted them.” Taking the hit to Jay-Z a little bit too personally I’m getting a bit agitated now, but she continues, “You know he gave this concert and everyone was bowing. They were saying he was Jehovah!” She looks agast.

Not knowing where she’s getting these facts, I decide to start taking a stand. “Where are you hearing this? I’ve never heard of anything else like this, I would know because I’m from Amer—” Yes, writing this now I guess I’m disgusted with myself for pulling the America card, and for a kid, nonetheless, but I’m starting to get really uncomfortable here.

“Well its all over Facebook!”

“You know you can’t believe everything on Facebook.”

“I know there are rumors! I’ve heard rumors about Obama being a devil worshipper too!—” she pauses for us to share in our shock, “yes, but I said, no, no, no, this can’t be true because if he were really a devil worshipper, Michelle would have left him, of course.”

“How do you know she’s not a devil worshipper too?”

“Well she’s not.”

Infallible logic. What was I thinking, of course she’s not.

She continues, “Well like Rhianna, she was a devil worshipper so Chris Brown beat her. I mean I would too” again she’s getting physically into what she’s saying, motioning out beating someone with an angry expression on her face.

So my jaw is dropped and now I just can’t take it anymore. I should be a cultural observer and not intervene, but this girl is justifying a man beating his girlfriend?! “I’m sorry Mariam, I don’t care what Rhianna was doing with the devil, there is no way he should beat her—” she tries to interrupt but I’m not having it, I’m raising my voice to a little kid now, repeating myself like a broken record, I feel like such a fool.

Now she’s agreeing with me, like kids who agree with people they’re trying to impress. Agreeing as if we had never disagreed, she continues on about Jay-Z.

“I like Jay-Z, he’s my favorite,” I interrupt, getting petty now.

She just changes pop icons, “And Lady Gaga” she hisses. “She sings this song about Alejandro—”

“Oh yea, my favorite song?” I pretend as if I don’t know where this is going. And she continues as if I hadn’t said anything. “That Lady Gaga, the things she wears, she is so naked. And she wears black and white, you know that means she’s a devil worshipper.”

Honestly not knowing this, I decide to dangerously bring me, an atheist with an intense distaste for any type of religious evangelism, into the picture. I mean, if she’s going to kick me out, or beat me as it seems she is fond of, I might as well get that over with sooner rather than later. “So I like black and white, does that make me a devil worshipper?”

“Oh no, no, no, you are good.” —phew, so she won’t be killing me in my sleep. As we continue to watch ‘crunk’ music on the TV, full of scantily clad ladies dancing and men touching women sexually, she doesn’t seem phased by this, and returns to her rant on Lady Gaga’s attire, “You know Lady Gaga isn’t the only one, ladies now days, they wear tights and a top and they go out! In public! Have they no shame?!” I think to myself of how tights and tops are in my suitcase right now and how I had intended to wear something like that out next Friday. I mentally cross that event off my calendar and forget about wearing my soffe shorts and camis for pajamas.

Then I learn that she will be sharing a room with me. After gritting my teeth holding in the explosion of emotions for a good few minutes, I patiently inquire about this. “I do believe your father said you’d be staying in the room with your mother, that I’d be staying in this room alone,” I say trying to be clear but polite.

“Oh no, you can never stay alone.”

“Actually I think I can.”

“Don’t you get scared?”

“Actually, I get scared when I am sleeping with someone else,” I blatantly lie.

“No, no, I’ll stay here.”

Again I patiently wait for the fury to dissipate before continuing, “I think, Mariam, you may be right, I may be wrong. But I think we all agreed I’d stay here alone. And its not that I don’t like you, we’ll still spend a lot of time together but you know…” I continue babbling excuses but she stays focused on the TV to try to hide her obvious disagreement.

I’m immediately regretting my relocation and wanting to hug Chippa and never let him go the next time I see him. Maybe we’ll sing to Lady Gaga and watch some Jerry Springer together, rejoicing in our non-judgmental sibling relationship, celebrating our similarities.

Throughout my dialogue with this feisty sixth grader, I learn about the entire family’s love for Michael Jackson. Even Solemi and GD are dancing along to ‘Bad’ while Mariam describes that she would murder, yes murder, anyone who called him a devil worshiper. I’m getting confused about the criteria for a devil worshipper as MJ grabs his junk and does intense pelvic thrusts that Mariam classifies as “amazing dancing”. Then Keri Hilson comes on afterwards literally wearing nothing but a U-shaped cloth that barely covers her and Mariam talks about how Michael Jackson must have taught her how to dance because they’re both so good. During this confusing and assaulting conversation I managed to defiantly throw in some daring contradictory philosophies, “I think people should be allowed to believe what they wish” and “Maybe not everything on the internet is true” and “Perhaps we shouldn’t murder people”… but she just keeps going.


Hours later, the firing squad of one is finished with this conversation. I escape up to what I thought was my room and pull out my computer to write down as much of this ridiculousness as possible so that I don’t forget it. Ten minutes later, in pops Mariam. I pretend I’m playing solitaire. Mariam says she’s bad at the game, but is instructing me, pointing viscously at my screen and I wince every time. Pretty soon I decide my computer will be less harmed if I just let her at the controls. I relax as she’s preoccupied, and cute, little, quiet GD is adorably watching over her shoulder and humming Michael Jackson.

Then its dinner time. Asia and Abeyd are both hard workers and get home late, so I get ready to take dinner with the kids. Solemi brings out a tray with three covered plates on it, one bigger than the other two. I think to myself, how cute one for me and two little ones for the two little kids. Nope, they’re all for me, the kids will eat later.

After dinner I’m saved by Abeyd. Asia won’t be home for a while so she suggested I go with Abeyd to the grocery store. I’m confused by the invitation a bit seeing as it’s after dark and unsafe outside, but I’m just ecstatic to escape Mariam’s clutches. He says he’ll point out the places that are safe or unsafe along the way so that I’ll know where not to be after certain hours. Here is where the gangs hang out, there is where they are known to be able to afford guns, here is a houserobbery section… shoot, where was the safe part again? This tour is just really uncomfortable. Then we turn a direction that I know is not to Nakumatt Prestige, the grocery store. Then we get out of the car and start walking down an alley, “We’re visiting Asia’s cousin, we do this charity work and I need to look at some documents.”

Charity work, my ass, you’re walking me down an alley on an unexpected stop in an area you said was notorious for gangs and I don’t even know you and all these students have been raped by host brothers and fathers before and I’ve heard the stories and my heart is thumping and I should have brought a key or something sharp and why am I still following him again?? But then we see this lady and her kid outside the house and they welcome us in so I’m feeling better. The whole family is inside and after I stop hyperventilating, I realize he really is here to discuss some documents about their charity work. Also surprising, this family is the first Kenyan family I’ve ever seen to have a pet cat. And they keep it indoors. So I preoccupy myself trying to befriend the cat without getting rabies while the members of the family look at me like I'm crazy and eventually we leave.

Poor Abeyd, shopping with him was like taking a ride on the struggle bus. He’s shopping for two households, keeping the items separate in the cart. He’s constantly getting a little disoriented as to which isle he’s going to and continually consulting little lists he’d received through SMS on his phone. He needs a certain type of tea leaf for Asia because she’s allergic, Adija likes her bread slightly burnt, Asia prefers this brand brand of soap, Adija needs milk, GD likes peanuts, Adijas son likes potato crisps… I mean… jeez he’s got a lot to keep track of. Eventually we make it out and arrive home.

There is Asia exhausted on the couch from a long days work. She is absolutely beautiful, as a side note, not wearing her shawl/veil, and the kids seem to have gone to bed. I’ve never been so happy to see someone as I am now. We all sit together and sip tea and discuss Sudanese politics and watch the news and talk about New Mexico and joke. I am loving every moment of my company and conversation, wishing they hadn’t had kids. I happen to delicately address my assault earlier on.

I mention the devil worshipping—“Jeez sometimes, you just can’t raise kids. They get this crazy stuff from other kids at school,” Abeyd assures me.

I question the sleeping arrangement and they laugh—“No that is not what we’re doing, maybe wishful thinking on her part but no, she’ll be sleeping with me,” says Asia.

I sigh in relief and we head up to bed. Kids are crazy. I bet Mariam thought she would impress me with her strict conviction, her moral fervor. But wow, was she overdid that one. I’ll stick this out for now; I think she’ll cool down when I’m not so new and exciting. I have my doubts, but one thing is for sure. In the future, that time between the end of school and dinner time will be spent out of the house.