Speechless in Kibera

Ok folks, we have to work backwards due to our technical delays.  I'm going to attempt to regurgitate everything we've seen in the last couple of days to catch you up to speed.

On Friday, July 15th, our drivers picked us up to go sightseeing in Nairobi.  We went several places which I will chronicle in subsequent posts, but the most profound experience of all our destinations that day was encountered at Kibera.

Kibera (pronounced kee-bear-ruh) is the largest slum in Nairobi, located approximately five kilometers outside of the city center.  Kibera is one of the most studied slums in Africa.  Aside from those in the group that have already experienced Kibera, I believe I can speak for the rest of us and say that we were sooooooooooo NOT ready for what we saw there.

The streets leading to Kibera were very congested and filled with cars, vans, and pedestrians.  There were dozens of street vendors in make-shift booths selling fruits and vegetables, textiles, and second-hand goods.  As our driver coasted down the main street to look for parking, many us reached for our cameras.  Quickly, he cautioned us about taking pictures.  He informed us that the Kibera residents are not fans of tourists of any sort, taking candid photos of them.

Meanwhile, our tour guide Rick, an inhabitant of Kibera, came to escort us through the village.  Ben asked if it would be ok to bring our cameras.  He cautioned us about taking pictures, and said that if we did, to make sure that we did it very discreetly.  The Kibera natives have been told that tourists take pictures and then turn around and sell them.  So, naturally, no one would want to be exploited voluntarily.

Once our drivers found a parking space, we all disembarked the van for a journey we would subsequently never forgot.  For starters, Kibera has a distinct smell.  The village has no running water.  It is safe to assume that 100% of its water supply is contaminated.  There is dark green "water" running through the village that wreaks of trash and human waste.  There is an inordinate amount of trash that consumes the landscaping.  While walking through the village, every step was calculated so as to avoid the unidentified mounds of waste and sewage.  Rick told us that because there is no formal waste collection orchestrated by the government, that people dispose of fecal materials in plastic shopping bags, and then just discard them outside.  The amount of trash truly resembled a landfill.

Rick walked us through most of the village.  We encountered many children playing outside of their classrooms.  They were so friendly and curious about who we were.  They kept chanting in unison, "How are you?" We presumed this might be one of the only English phrases they know, because they could not communicate any further in English beyond that greeting.  We gave the kids hi-5's and proceeded to explore the rest of the village.  One thing that stuck in our minds about the children was that despite their poor living conditions, they still had contentment and innocence in their eyes, just like any other group of kids.

Rick took us to his house, which he said is classified as middle class.  Kibera has three classes of people:  upper, middle, and lower class.  His house was a small, dark room with tin covering that he shares with his younger sister.  It was pitch black inside with concrete floors.  Although it was daytime, barely any light peeked through the breaks in the tin roof.  His rent is about 2,000 shillings per month, which converts to about $22/month. He has electricity rigged into his house so that he doesn't have to pay for it.  All of the dwelling on his block share the same "bathrooms."  The bathroom consists of private outhouses with a hole in the bottom of a concrete floor.  Rick's landlord owns fifty dwellings, doesn't pay taxes on any of them, yet she can kick him and his sister out at any point.  Even though she lives in an identical unit, Rick said that she is considered to be rich.

It was mind boggling that Rick's home was considered middle class.  He stated that there were parts of Kibera that were much worse.  I don't think any of our minds could fathom any conditions worse than what we already saw.   Throughout the course of the tour, Rick made it clear that he would like nothing more than to leave Kibera behind and never look back.  However, he lacks the tools and resources to make his dream a reality.  Previously, he was enrolled in a local university, but had to leave because he couldn't support the concurrent financial needs of his family and education.

Being that Rick's house was the last stop on our tour, we told him we wanted to pray for him before our departure.  We all joined hands and lifted up Rick and his sister.  We asked God to guide him and provide him with the strength to endure Kibera while he searches for a way out.  Upon the closing of our prayer and goodbyes, I became emotional as tears welled up in my eyes.  I felt incredibly sorry for Rick and the devastating place he calls home.  No one should ever have to live like that.

Kibera was a reality check for all of us.  We are blessed beyond measure and nothing we have ever endured could ever trump Rick's reality on a daily basis.  Thank you God for all of our many blessings.

Written by:
Adaire Brown