As we embarked on the journey back from Nakuru we had no idea how long it would take. Along the open road which had been freshly tarmaced we could travel at reasonable speed. However, in Kenya it was becoming clear that it is best to expect the unexpected. Roads could be diverted for accidents or road works or the inevitable traffic jam when anywhere near Nairobi. Half way back our driver Stanley wanted to stop at a roadside fruit and veg stall. In fact it turned out to be lots of stalls selling fresh fruit and vegetables that looked so much better than what we would find in a supermarket back in England; huge colourful delights. It was therefore no wonder that it was more desirable to Stanley to stop and get supplies there. When the minibus pulled over more or less all of the stallholders came rushing over to sell their goods. This was a real culture shock as these people were clambering to get a sale and were desperate to receive some money. Men and, young and old gathered around the minibus. One man called through the glass, ”Come on sister, give me some money”. There must have been about fifty people huddled around the van trying to sell while our driver got out and picked out his shopping. As Stanley got back in and we continued with our journey, it made me reflect on what we had just experienced. While this was slightly disconcerting and if this were England maybe I would have been scared, I realize that the gap between the rich and the poor is so immense. Those expats farming the land in mass production were living comfortably yet these people were clearly on the breadline. I can’t even imagine how these people cope especially if they have families to support. The cost of living doesn’t appear to be a great deal lower than that of England yet even those Kenyans doing what you would expect to be well-paid jobs earn a fraction of us teachers in the UK.
Of course as we neared Nairobi the traffic began to slow and the driving of those around us became seemingly more erratic. The condition of the roads in Nairobi, the largest city in East Africa is what I can only describe as eye opening, large potholes and near bare road surfaces appear to have had a major impact on the capital city’s infrastructure. Coupled with high volumes of traffic entering and exiting the city not only at peak times but throughout the day means that a great deal of our time is spent sitting in traffic pondering over what else can be done to help.
After a quiet evening we showered, relaxed and crashed out and waited in anticipation of our visit to the equatorial town of Nanuki to watch a football tournament supported by Sporting Chance International that was due to take place in the area. Having woken up and prepared ourselves for the three hour journey we discovered that there had been some problems in gathering the teams up. There had been difficulties in reaching the various parties involved as mobile phone credit had been low or completely out and people had struggled to top up credit following. Therefore the tournament had been postponed.
Keen to make the most of our time in Kenya we quickly decided that we would visit Peter Kibukosya Primary School who had been supporting SCI in providing pitches and sharing amenities with us. We arrived in Umoja mid morning having once again sat in a jam for well over an hour. However, when we arrived there it soon became clear that we were not to be disappointed. We received a warm welcome as we presented the head teacher Lona with a gift and the boys’ football team with a kit donated from Essex. The goalie of the team has actually been selected to play for the Nairobi youth team. We toured the school which is to play venue to the SCI football tournament tomorrow and had an opportunity to meet pupils and answer their questions about life in England, something which was very valid as it sparked an interest in several of the pupils and led to them asking lots of questions about sport and school life in the UK. Given their enthusiasm Storm and I both thought that it was a shame to let it stop there. I felt positive that pupils in my school back in Cornwall would be really excited to have correspondence with some of these pupils, as did Storm. We therefore leapt at the chance to meet these pupils again outside the classroom. We took some photos of them and the senior teacher Rose said that she would assist the pupils in setting up an e-mail address at the local cyber café. Brilliant! I really hope that this will provide these kids with even more motivation to continue working hard at school. Again the stark difference between pupils in the UK and Kenya was obvious. These suburban pupils were learning in conditions that would have been deemed unacceptable in the UK yet their commitment to their education and their impeccable behaviour stood out and just made me feel that I wanted to do more to help and that pupils in the UK really don’t know how lucky they are.
Next stop was a charity that we have enjoyed good relations with for some time now, Alive and Kicking. The charity which was established by Martin Barnard employs local men to print and stitch leather footballs thus providing much needed employment to the locals but also spreading important health messages regarding sexual health and malaria. Martin shared with us his vision for the future and again fuelled our desire to support those who are making all efforts to positively shape the lives of young people in Kenya.
From Alive and Kicking we again joined the highway and sat in what was now becoming a hugely frustrating traffic jam. How do locals manage to live with this chaos day in day out? This time our destination was once again the Girls Academy in Kibera. By the time we finally crossed the city and approached Kibera the rains had set in. Pelting on the roof of the van I stopped dozing and looked out of the van to see streams of water gushing down the sides of the already muddy roads that lead into Africa’s third largest slum. This was going to be interesting. Last time we were here we had had the benefit of good weather and although the scene at that point was shocking and heartbreaking we were now going to see what happened when the open sewers overflowed. This time we were less precious about our footwear. Having been there already and seen those adorable girls dancing bare foot in the dirt we stayed in flip-flops. Storm had gathered a huge amount of equipment and kit destined for the girls in Kibera. Now that her bag had been sent over from Heathrow we were all keen to return to the girls to see their reaction to Storm’s gifts donated by her pupils. As the rain continued to pour down we entered the classroom and noticed immediately that poor weather like this where thunder and lightening is crashing overhead and the pounding of the rain on the corrugated iron is a major hinderence as when the presentation was made many struggled to hear. However, the girls and teachers alike were ecstatic to receive pens, pencils, highlighters, mini whiteboards and sport kit. Seeing pupils living in such conditions as we had seen a couple of days previously and learning in stretched facilities yet seeing them being so positive was a real lesson to me and reinforced my belief in the importance of counting your blessings. These girls are a real inspiration. Caked in mud and streaming wet we made the long return journey back to the hotel safe in the knowledge that tonight we knew that we would have food and a warm dry place to sleep, something that few of the Kibera girls would be doing. As we sat in the jam, the poem that one of the girls had recited on our first visit echoed in my head, “African girls, why me?”
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