Kenyan Diaries: The Day of Absolute Mayhem

12th May

Mid week 8 in the Big Brother Kenya House and this Wednesday it truly lived up to its nickname! So its community day and we organized ourselves to spend the day with John from the Kisima project. Here in Thigio fashion is vintage! Though to them there just clothes they can afford. One day last week I saw people gathered together to receive food aid and it really opened my eyes to exactly how needy these people really are. Needless to say then, fashion is not a consideration of these people. The clothes they wear are all charity donated that they buy from a massive market at extremely cheap prices. Me being the vintage admirer that I am was quick to notice the quality of their old clothing and I wanted in on the action! Both to buy and to see these infamous markets. Little did we all know...!

So the day started off a bit dodgy. As per usual the matatu drivers were trying to con us into a journey 30 mins away. There were 8 of us and we ended up in a five seater car with 4 existing passengers in it. How? Well I was one of four in the front of the car. My thigh was literally on top of the handbreak! And the volunteer beside me was concerned her foot would hit the break! Then there were 5 of us in the boot of the car. The screams every time we hit a rock (which was frequent) i think adequately describes their ordeal!

So anyway we managed to get to Nairobi, a bit late mind you. I enjoyed an boogy in the matatu...eventually we met John in the much busier Nairobi then on Sunday and set off for the market. As we walked i vivdily remember noticing how we had we had entered new territory. 15 mins away was the Hilton hotel and here as we walked the roads became dirtier, darker and smellier. Then we entered the GHETTO or slum as they would call it here. People who live poor in the city, live poor. Much worse then here in Thigio where most people live on their agricultural produce. This was the real Nairobi. To your left a horrid sewage flowing with blackened potent smelling water and to your right a rank dump yard full of shed loads of waste.

After meeting John’s brother at the entrance of the smelly but decent market we walked across a bridge over a dirt filled reservoir into the market we were after. It was bad. It stank, was filthy and just horrible to walk in since we all had sandals on! As soon as we got in, much to my surprise a woman casually reached out to grab a volunteers earing out of her ear. It did startle me though we had been warned of such. I purposely wore no jewelry that day but i warned others to take off what they had on. The market was full of mud. But this wasn't red thick mud, it was slushy, wet black sewagy stuff! After a few minutes i gave up on tryna dodge the mud! I had to get my gear after all that and I did well in the time and heat and smell! To our surprise and pleasure at the end of the market there was a line of men with buckets and stones who cleaned our feet for 10 shilings, though I gave 30 since he even buckled my sandals! That was surreal.

So anyway, now we were presentable enough to head back, after leaving John we made our way to the matatu station to get a ride home in time for curfew. 2 hours ahead of time. We were swindled into a ‘express’ matatu to Limuru which was halfway between our town and Nairobi. Though I was reluctant, after a agreeing a price and confirming with other passengers where it was going we stayed on. This journey should have teken 40 minutes max since there was hardly any traffic but we were on this horrid journey for 2hrs! We stopped literally every 3 mins to pick up more passengers into this mini bus that was already full. Smelly people at that. This one woman got on with her small son, about 5. They sat at the back of the matatu next to a fellow volunteer. Suddenly she felt rain like water on her foot and called out that here foot was wet. When she looked to her right she saw this woman holding up her son who was pissing in the matatu and splashing urine on her foot! We were all disgusted. She insisted her son was just a baby so it didn't matter but she later apologized when she realised what the magnitude of it I guess.

Meanwhile the matatu man was getting ruder and ruder (I was lacing him with dirty looks tho!) and once all passengers got off and it was just us he began driving irratically to avoid pot holes and some volunteers got scared we would crash or stop and get attacked! I wasn’t that dramatic tbh. But by the end of the 2 hour journey and knowing we had missed curfew, I was VEX!

And when I get vex I get ghetto and it aint pretty. Its embarrassing and I did scare a few volunteers, I was told. The matatu man much like many local peole, he had no manners. As soon as I got off the bus he began shaking his palm of coins demanding ‘money money’. That’s when it kicked off! I refused to pay until he spoke to me with respect after the lies he used to get us on the matatu! We were both shouting and other volunteers too. From what I'm told i used the word fam and vex alot! And at one point I asked the guy if he was trying to hit me coz I was ready to come to blows (not). It was alot! All I was asking for was a please but that was a foreign concept to the man. I gave him a piece of my mind because I was sick of getting conned just because we’re foreign! Anyway so eventually, because it was rainy and getting dark a volunteer paid for me so we could go. I walked off and paid her later. Happy that I had proved my point but annoyed at myself for getting so angry. Eventually I calmed down after cussing the matatu driver who was going round telling the other drivers not to take us, and we got into another bus...

This journey was shorter but I witnessed what can only be described as the bubonic plague! When it rains here we get these horrid huge bugs with four wings! I promise you the road was absolutely swarming with them. It was so gross! We were all screaming at the ones in the matatu and one volunteer with a serious phobia of them even cried! The prospect of getting out and walking through them was not an option. Thankfully as we were late we had to get a bus closer to our house and because of the pitch blackness our security guard came with his swag torch to take us back in a walk of heavy mud back to the house!

After that huge ordeal we got home and were issued with disciplinaries and a punishment that amounted to us not going to Nairobi on Sunday. We all refused to sign. After all that I was not about to get in trouble for something completely out of my control.

Platform 2 have come to Kenya though after all the week 4/5 drama so we will talk to people of reason!

What a day...Still smiling.

Kenyan Diaries Poetry: Looking on Me in Pity

You call me oppressed
While you shake your head in pity
You whisper oh so ignorant words
While you point with the person beside you
You stare in fascination at me
Fighting off the curious urge to ask me a stupid question

About my covering.
My love
My hijab.

You see me as unliberated
Despite my smile
You feel I’m unhappy
Despite my tolerance of your unwitting idiocy
You feel yourself superior
Despite my confident logical answer

You look at me surprised
Because I have an elaborate and eloquent response
Because my intellect goes far beyond your own and expectations
Because you see the glimmer of pride in my sparkling eye while I explain to you what you know not.
Because your small mind doesn't grasp the concept of freedom of choice

Because you can’t fathum the theory of faith and selflessness
You cant see the love in our hearts
So to comfort your own insecurities
To hide your own discontentment
To mask your won lack of confidence
You look upon me in pity
I am no slave to his eyes
Mine is mine and yours is yours
If you choose to share your body with all of mankind that is your choice
Not my wish
When I choose to keep mine sacred for myself and mine
That’s my fulfillment.

And when you note that I never asked you why you stand before me ignorant of inner beauty
And why you submit to someones standard of beauty
Obsess over size, perfection and imperfection
You will realise that there is no need to pity me
And you will see that although I could
I don't even pity you.

Kenyan Diaries Poetry: On Reflection

One reflection it is not my life that is better than theirs
It is not my lifestyle that is superior
More advanced and more civilized
Because my perfect existence is surrounded by a world of concrete cracks

A community still paralyzed
So much so that will take eachothers lives
They say poverty breeds crime
But our poverty is inferior
Yet our crimes are superior

Our materialistic goals of monetary success
Are clouded by misconception
Our tendency to blame the system
And rely on theories of truth within white supremacy
Is contradicted by our internal failures

Failure to unite and stand as one
Against oppression
Against malpractice
Against inequality

And our brethren look upon our uncivilized villages in sympathy
Our mud hut homes
Our unraveled matted hair
Our sun kissed frames

And we join them
Unknowing that the problems we face
Are much the same
In many ways deeper
Embedded in reduced opportunity

Yet some fail to open their eyes to
The magnitude of the ideology that pollutes our minds
And my fear is that we will never prevail
Until we can want for our brothers what we want for ourselves
Until we realise true social, economic and political freedom
And until we utilise our opportunities
Rise above the chip
And become successful on the innermost level.

Kenyan Diaries: Lake Naivasha: A Wonder of My World

27th April 2010
Ah, we have reached the much anticipated half way mark of this amazing journey and I thank God for allowing me to witness all that I have so far.

My love for Kenya grew emensely this weekend! We finally had our mini holiday off work in Lake Naivasha, a beautiful and breathtaking part of Kenya; home to much wildlife and o9f course the lake. We were also reunited with the other 16 volunteers who stay in Meru. That was wonderful as I’ve bonded well with two beautiful sisters there and it was so lovely having their company that weekend.

So after a cheerful reunion and long drive in which we viewed the picturesque Rift Valley we got to the resort which was a full on camp site! We settled into our cabins and tents-I was in a cabin of course-the tents were a bit too grimey for me! The best thing about the accommodation was that there were real running hot showers!! A privilege for me now! They were amazing and so very valued! There was an idealic bar and restaurant where we tucked into fine cuisine such as steak, pizza;s, chicken tikka, ro9ast dinners and the like! The lick to say the least! That Saturday we all just caught up and filled the Meru group on the truth of all the silly Big Brother like drama that had been spread about our group! We spent some time at the mini masaai market before getting dolled up for a lil party a volunteer’s friend who’s parents owned the resort was throwing. Roles were played of course and people got a bit silly but im not bothered.

Sunday on the other hand was a truly memorable and somewhat surreal in hindsight.
After a super early breakfast we set off in boats across Lake Naivasha to spot the infamous inhabitants of the Lake, the hippo’s! One volunteer was overly excited about seeing them, bless him! They honestly looked like monsters and they were so big considering we could just see their heads over the water. We also spotted gorgeous giraffes and cheeky baboons in the wilderness. It was fantastic seeing the animals in their natural habitat and not in some pocksy zoo!

The next part of the morning came as a bit of a surprise. We got off the boats to try and find some more animals known to live in the jungle ahead! Little did we know that this nature trail turned out to be a treacherous walk among the highest trees i’d ever seen! The sharpest bushes I’d ever felt and the most bugs i’d ever been bitten by! Worst thing was that we were very ill prepared. I had on pumps as did many others and i had no water. It was like shooting a scene from tomb raider but without the protective gear. By the time we reached the Zebras I pretty much blacked out briefly due to the heat, lack if water and long arse walk! Nonetheless feelings of awe overcame me as it was truly beautiful, and like nothing i had ever seen before!

Back at the campsight my Meru buddy and I spent an hour and a bit haggling and getting to know the market sellers! Robert, Bruce and Vivian (Bruce’s wife to be). Bruce actually grew up in the Kibera slums which was interesting to know. Ro9bert and I discussed my career plans and he told me he had never met an African whose career chose was not solely steered by financial gain! He saw my desire to revert from corporate law to Human Rights/Development law as ‘unique’. Far from if you ask me!

I then went on an adventurous bike ride with my Meru pally’s! Totally forgot that cycling is actually hard work, we soon retired to sit among the cactus bushes and chat! Later that night after another hot shower we went for a delicious dinner and ended the night hanging out with the whole group at a little jamming session.
The final morning was a pleasant breakfast – I discovered just how much I miss toast! My first piece in 5 weeks and it was banging, no word of a lie! After a drive back and emotional goodbye our adventure was over!

I can’t describe well enough how amazing Lake Naivasha was. Another example of my Creators wonders! I can only promise myself that I will return one day. Putting everything into perspective we have done so much already and I have every intention of making my second half of the journey even more amazing!

For the love of Kenya!

Still smiling!

Kenyan Diaries: The Struggle of the Black Woman

16th April

This piece is not exclusively inspired by my time in Kenya but much rather is a reflection of my own thoughts and experiences triggered off by a number of things I have witnessed here.

The struggle of black women is real. And I don’t aim to be stereotypical or wholely negative or moany or even dwell on the harsh reality of some truths for that matter. I simply think its important to be aware of the elements that stand in our way so that we are able to continue to triumph and blossom into the Cleopatra's and Nefertiti's we are!

We are so beautiful because our struggle is so wide . A black woman carries a heavy burden. She has to deal with the negativities of being black and female in a world were being of that race and sex doesnt always work in ones favour. She has to educate here children about the real world and love her husband so that he may love himself enough to care for his family. She is an ambassador for love and strength in her community and through her faith and love for herself she has to overcome the many injustices thrown her way by society. She has to rise above the negative stereotypes placed upon her in a world where black women are often seen as less intelligent, overtly sexual and even ugly.

1. Now I don’t eat my words concerning the ‘justified’ reaction of the children of Kenya to the white volunteers as opposed to the two black ones(the reasoning I found was that people are generally fascinated by things that are far removed or alien to them); but after being here a month I do see something a little sad about it all. And i think it ultimately comes down to people’s perception of beauty. At the end of the day people are vain. We are drawn to beauty as opposed to ugliness and I mean that on surface level as in physical beauty and on a deeper level as in inner mental beauty. But the physical is what one can see first. I feel, and don’t take this as fact, that Africans, some Africans have a distorted view of what beauty is. Lets face it, as long as the West continues to dominate the world both economically and politically, this is in many ways, a white mans world. He dictates what is good or bad, ugly or beautiful, intelligent or slow, developed or undeveloped. And unfortunately there are still many who see blacks in the negative. I don’t but i find the young girls of the village’s fascination with the long blond or brown hair and pale skin sad in some ways. I understand and reason with the fact that we are fascinated with difference but something deeper lies within. I sometimes see the fascination with the ‘western’ look as a form of admiration that stems perhaps a dislike of our own beautifully sun kissed skin and full curly hair. The media plays a significant role in this.
Portraying beauty as pale with long hair or a light colour. If every magazine was filled with women who looked nothing like you, what might you think at such a young age. And this is Africa, yet people conform.

Ironically here on the project, I, miss ‘afrocentric’ have noted a significant difference in the way our skins compare. The way white skin burns in the sun is fascinating. The way it peels red makes it appear almost inferior to our skin which can uphold the heat. We often joke at the house that ‘black don’t crack’ as the pigment in our skin makes it age slower, at surface level at least. I just wish some of the girls I have seen here would realise the beauty in them, if they don’t already.

2. The perception of black women as being feisty, rude, yet strong and domineering and overtly sexual is in many ways a taboo. One day at work a volunteer jokingly called me ‘ghetto booty’. This was in relation to my straight back while i dug up earth and my stance when i rested to apply lip gloss! It was also attributed to my now known outspokenness and necessary fiestiness (I speak my mind in situations in which it is needed). Anyway, i found this to be an interesting phrase and a reflection of many stereotypes of black women. I don’t carry a chip on my shoulder as aside from my knowledge from reading, I don’t have too much reason to. Yet I notice that my urban surrounding mean that I feel the need to stand my ground in every situation and appear the stronger party when being challenged. The lawyer in me means I won’t back down from an arguement and the ‘ghetto’ in me means I often break out into a world of slang when I’m angry. I wonder where it all comes from! As I ponder I have come to believe that it stems from my position as a black Muslim woman. If I don’t take a stance and stand up for what i believe in, people may walk all over me. I think being black also subconsciously means I feel the need to prove my intelligence. Also, I believe my life lessons, being varied due to my surroundings and awareness of some black history equip me as a young black woman to address issues sharply so as to not be undermined. What I have come to conclude is that the way black women are perceived in society and somewhat ostracized means we sometimes feel the need to be and are slightly more inclined to be sharp tongued than white women.

3. Now I want to revisit the issue of black beauty. Today, a volunteer here said something silly that he didn’t actually mean in a brief conversation about black celebrities. I had pointed out that a particular singer seemed to be getting fairer in skin tone and he agreed (we were looking at a copy of Glamour and he pointed out her make-up to me). We then went over some other celebs whose skin has gotten suspiciously lighter over the years. I then pointed out some dark skin beauties who are still dark. Randomly we came to a particular celeb and he said ‘yeh she’s pretty for a black girl’. I was dumbfounded and sharply questioned him in response ‘what did you just say?’. He realised what he had said and began to retract his statement and he was clearly very ashamed and apologetic about it. I know he didn’t mean it that way. But the fact of the matter is, to me, that statement held a magnitude of truths in the way a lot of people think. I heard a lot in that statement and it somewhat consolidated or confirmed a few things I had been thinking about. I personally think black women and just women of colour in general are the most diverse looking and beautiful in the world. Being a black woman myself i do notice a black beauty shine moreso than any other race. I guess that is natural as her beauty is a reflection of mine in some ways. Though women of all colours are beautiful, in the world we live in it is always and still vital that women of colour see how truly beautiful we are!

I detest the fact that black celebrities get lighter. It doesn't speak well of black pride. Human and natural pride for that matter. It sadens me to the point of tears. Afterall, ‘the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice’ ay! Bleaching creams, long weaves, false lashes, blue contacts represent black women trying to flush out the black in them. Yes white people tan but that’s their own. For someone to dislike themselves so much that everything they aspire to looks is false and is not a natural reflection of their own people is truly sad and worrying. Everything should be done in moderation. There is a difference between braids and a 24 inch blond weave! Between mascara and false lashes. I don’t want to put anyone in a box because truth be told, actions are to be judged by intentions (God tells us) but i do believe that if such women searched deep down as to their reasons, self dislike will come into it. I just question where this perception of beauty comes from! This comes from me who has been on the creamy crack fir over 10 years! Needless to say I wear a hijab so clearly now its for management reasons only, plus I look 15 in cornerows!

‘Often light skinned Americans are considered more attractive than those with the blackest skin colours. We have shunned eachother as reminders of our alleged inferiority. And in doing that, we guaranteed our continual enslavement’.
Geaorge Fraser

I think that living in the west can sometimes make us dislike ourselves in our natural state so we opt for lighter skin, thinner lips, a narrower nose. Who the hell told anyone that was beauty! We are all beautiful. The distinction and division between light and black has long been a problem within the black community. It is one that needs to be addressed strongly is it wrong. No matter if you are as dark as night or as light as day, you are beautiful. God created you so. Only if we love ourselves will the world learn to love us back!

4. Finally the deepest and central point of this piece is to talk about our struggle beyond body and beauty image. Self esteem can be and I believe is a strong cause of female oppression. Until we love ourselves enough to be confident enough to rise up against our oppressors we will continue to be oppressed. We are so powerful as a sex, having a heavy hand reproduction and all men often feel the need to repress us so we do not dominate. Today we watched a DVD on HIV/AIDS in East Africa and the reasons why it spreads so much faster in women.

In the East African countries shown in this film, we saw that bigamy is illegal in many states but practiced freely and openly among many. And it is something we have encountered here. According to some men in this area of Thigio there is nothing wrong with having a wife and several girlfriends on the side. I guess its not even bigamy really. Just open adultery.This is very normal practice and many women have to put up with this. Worst of all, a man sleeping around is prone to contracting HIV. And even worse is the fact that once he brings the virus into his home and bed and ultimately his wife it is she who is to blame when their status is revealed. Many African men believe the virus is spread by women. And while they will readily admit that they have been unfaithful, they will seldom accept responsibility for contracting the infection themselves and spreading it on.

What comes after this is a plight of abuse, physical and sexual. This abuse is often open and there for the community to see. And in many places it is fine. A teacher at a school we are working at on the project went as far as to tell a volunteer that a man needs to hit his wife so she will not feel over appreciated. He went as far as to say that a man should sleep around because there are more women in Kenya than men so if they did not sleep with more than one, some women will live without ever having sex. This was a teacher at a primary school.

The woman has to endure so much and due to her love for her children and even her abusive husband she remains, silently suffering a life of torment and pain. That's a story not just of African countries but the world at large really. Domestic violence is universal.

Power and control are attributes we need not fight for but share appropriately. Understanding that we are equal in God but play different roles. So simple but so hard to comprehend for some people. Power, self worship, ignorance and self hate are just a handful of the attributes of those abusers I heard of today.

I will end, though I rate you for even reading this far, with some empowering quotes I love.

‘Especially do I believe in the negro race; in the beauty of its genius, the sweetness of its soul’.
W.E.B.Du Bois

‘This color seems to operate as a most disagreeable mirror, and a great deal of one’s energy is expended in reassuring white Americans that they do not see what they see’.
James Baldwin

‘Colour is not a human or personal reality, its a political reality’.
James Baldwin

‘I represent more groups whop have been victims of second class citizenship than any other delegate; however, i am a proud member of all these groups, and in my small way I have to make my contribution to the cause of a dignified humanity’.
Dollie Lawther

Still Smiling.

Part II soon come...upon my return to the UK!