OAIC Nairobi Part 1

Most of my last day in Nairobi was spent with David Warui of the Organization of African Independent Churches. OAIC is comprised of many small local and regional churches across Africa. As opposed to the large denominational churches that were mostly colonial (Presbyterian, Anglican, Methodist, etc.). OAIC has its office in Nairobi, but has regional offices throughout Africa.

OAIC, like NCCK, operates a wide variety of programs, but today we're going into the slums to visit two different micro-loan groups. I've already seen several groups, and am bit disappointed that I'll be seeing more of the same. But David proves that there are still a few new angles on this model.

David picked me up at the AACC guest house and we head for Mathare, a vast slum and home to more than half-a-million people. It's a city unto itself, with the gleaming buildings of the downtown Nairobi a world away. The streets are teeming with pedestrians, cars, trucks, handcarts, hawkers, bicycles, motorcycles, and matatus. The pedestrians make the best time, since they simply step around all the other congestion. David obviously knows the area well, and pulls into a gas station, pays the owner for parking, and we dodge the traffic as we cross the muddy street.

We enter an unmarked metal shack -- the Free Pentecostal Church of Mathare -- and are greeted by Naomi, Rehab, and Rosemary. The church doubles as a school, with plain wooden benches, a raggy sofa, and a small table that is the teacher's desk and the altar. In the back corner the 'music system' hangs on the wall, consisting of two drums. Leaning against the wall below the drums is the pastor's bike. The earthen floor is pounded hard, and the light comes from the open door.



At first there's a bit of awkwardness, as we shake hands and exchange the peace of Christ; it's clear this group is here to build their business and deepen their faith. We sing a hymn (rather they sing and I hum, since I don't know the words), have a short prayer led by Naomi, and settle in to talk.

The name of the group is Mwiyukirie, meaning 'let us stand,' expressing the desire to stand together in solidarity with each other against the turmoil, oppression, and politics of Kenyan life, and to stand on their own feet, seeking independence. As Naomi, pointed out, "instead of getting a hand out, we got a hand-up to get out of the troubles." The 'troubles' are the gangs, tribal fights, destruction, and displacement over the last decade or more as violence swept across Kenya. This upheaval wasn't limited to the capital -- we heard of the same problems in Nyeri and Kisumu. As a result, many women were compelled to support themselves and their children, and to build new lives and new homes often in a different part of the city or country.

Rosemary is recent member of the group. At her kiosk she makes and sells mandazi, deep-fried bread dough -- sort of like doughnuts. Her original loan was 20,000 Ksh, or about $225 Cdn to get some utensils, flour, baking supplies, oil, and pay the initial rent for her kiosk. On a good day, she sells 3,000 Ksh worth of mandazi, and clears about 800 Ksh or a little less than $10 Cdn, on which she supports herself and her two children. Rosemary insists on giving us some mandazi and drinks, and steadfastly refuses payment. The mandazi are hot and sweet and taste of coconut milk.





Naomi runs a hotel -- selling prepared food for eat-in at a counter, or for take away. It's one of the larger businesses, housed in a concrete building with running water and electricity. Despite the size of the slum, people live in tight-knit communities; as we head back to the car, two young mechanics at the garage greet us. They're regulars at Naomi's "Mama Safi Hotel," and want to meet us.

Both Rosemary and Naomi employ a couple of people to help out in their kiosks, so the benefits of the loans reach further than just Naomi's and Rosemary's immediate families.

Charity of the best sort is part of the purpose of the Mwiyukirie group. All the members contribute every week to support Wangui, their adopted grandmother. I never did get Wangui's story -- she spoke no English and was incredibly shy -- but, I did learn that she was quite alone in the world, had limited mobility (arthritis?), and was virtually destitute. The women of Mwiyukirie keep her fed, clothed, and with a roof over her head, otherwise she would be on the street.

Just before leaving, I asked is there was any message I could take back to Canada for them. Naomi paused for a moment and then replied: "We are honoured by your visit, and we ask that you continue to pray for us, as we will continue to pray for you and for your church in Canada." We then sing a hymn -- one they're sure I know, "Jesus loves me."

NCCK in Kisumu

The recurrent theme of micro-loans and fostering small entrepreneurship recurs – again. Both the visits to NCCK in Kisumu on the 18^th , and the visit to OAIC in Nairobi on the 19^th, are about the same types of projects: small groups of women (although there are a few men involved in OAIC) that manage their loans and runs small businesses: food preparation, retail, used clothing, sewing, etc.

The spirit and hospitality that these women show has been so wonderful. Each place I go, I meet people who are supporting themselves and their families, often employing one or two more people, and even extending help and charity to others. Their generosity and spirit are compelling. I don’t think I've every been a fan of so-called‘trickle-down economics,’ because it’s usually benefited the rich more than the poor; but here the benefits are often trickling down from the poor to the virtually destitute. Lives are being transformed for what many North Americans would drop on a pair of theatre tickets, Christmas gifts, or just a special dinner out.

Kennedy Olango, on staff at NCCK (National Council of Chuches in Kenya), met Lauren and me at the guest house in Kisumu. We gathered in a meeting room with some 20 women in the collective. Together, they administer loans amongst themselves to help run their micro-businesses. The diversity in their enterprises is amazing. Almost all involve retail of some sort, including eggs, potatoes, used car parts, fish, 'hotel' (cooked food), hairdressing, second hand clothes, handbags, trousers, sandals and shoes, and general stores.

Over tea we share stories of the hard work and challenges of making a living under tough conditions. There are thousands of kiosks, street vendors, stores, and hawkers in this small city, so the competition can be pretty stiff. And there's not much money to be made for a lot of hard work. That doesn't seem to dampen their enthusiasm, however; they're full of confidence in their businesses and their futures. As the cups of sweet, hot tea are drunk, a mix of English, Swahili, and laughter fills the air.

Only a few of the women are actually from Kisumu; most are displaced from their homes and traditional tribal lands, and therefore have settled here in the city. Tribal loyalties are still evident in the melting-pot of the city, but the collaboration amongst these business women helps to overcome some of those barriers.

Lucy Nanjiru is the chair of the group and runs a 'hotel.' Hotels offer cooked food for take-away or eat-in, although the eat-in space is pretty small. Lucy's place is strategically placed outside a real hotel that doesn't have a restaurant, so there's lots of traffic. It's close to the market, but also on a dead-end street, so there's space for plastic tables and chairs for customers. Started with a loan (now repaid) of close to $1,000, Lucy now employs two others and sells more than fifty pounds of grilled meat each day. The kitchen is primitive and cramped but the food smells good.

Down in the market, Joyce sells used clothes. Every two to four weeks Joyce gets on the bus for the six hour ride to Nairobi to buy a bale of clothes. Weighing well over 100 pounds, the bales are densely compressed bundles of clothes that won't sell at places like Goodwill or Value Village in Canada. Some bales are better than others -- they are sold 'as-is,' without the chance to unpack and see what's inside. Joyce almost always makes a profit, but sometimes it's pretty slim. Because the profit is small and unpredictable, Joyce can't afford a real kiosk, so she pays a very small rental for a place in the market floor -- her store is a tarpaulin spread over the bare ground. Customers and friends come buy and barter for tea-towels, shirts, dresses, pants, drapes, or whatever Joyce has on offer.

Even with the slim profits that they make, each entrepreneur pays back their loans with interest, so that the fund can grow and others can join. As Joyce noted, "If we have the good fortune to be helped by others like the United Church of Canada, then we can give a hand-up to others, so they can have a better life, too."

The last week or so in Kenya proved a bit challenging technologically. A power problem at the AACC guest house in Nairobi meant there was no internet connection. I then went on my safari, and there was no internet connection there either, so I got thoroughly behind in posting even before I left Kenya. The return trip, getting caught up with work, finishing my last papers for my course, topped with jet lag, have all conspired to make it the best part of two weeks before I've finally been able to get back to this. Thanks for your patience, and continued interest in following my blog!

It tends to be one of the rules in church-land that when money has been spent getting people somewhere, you should work them hard to justify the expense. We do this at national meetings a lot (although we’re getting better). I’m only here for about eight days on the ground, so we’re trying to make the most of it, but another 5:00 a.m. taxi to the airport is, well, ‘a challenge.’ Still, I’m up and ready when Lauren and James, her favourite cabbie arrives.

Lauren Hodgson is a candidate for ministry from BC Conference and is doing her student internship here in Nairobi with Kenya Association for Advancement of Children. She and I are going to Kisumu to visit KAACR (the original name was Kenya Association for Advocacy of Children’s Rights, but the government wouldn’t allow that; so, they changed the name but curiously kept the acronym). BTW, check out Lauren's blog about her internship here.

It’s a short 40 minute flight to Kisumu, where we’re met by Philip and John from KACCR. Tim Ekesa, the director, is coming on the next flight, about 30 minutes later. We end up waiting about an hour; the plane arrived on time, but the pilot ditched the plane into the field (instead of Lake Victoria) when he ran out of runway. Tim got some great pics of it, as everybody disembarked and milled around the plane waiting for buses to take them to the terminal.

KACCR represents 12 different organizations that work with children across the country. They’ve been instrumental in getting children’s rights enshrined into the Kenyan constitution and legal system. Tim says “Our motto is ‘Nothing for the Children Without the Children,’” referring to the importance of including children in the process of developing legislation and programs for children. “Our main purpose is to get children’s participation in every forum that discusses children’s issues.” KACCR has worked in Kenya and beyond, including at the U.N., helping form the declaration of the Rights of the Child.

Working directly with children, KACCR’s main program is children’s rights clubs in schools. This struck me as quite odd, as I can’t imagine what the attraction would be for children and youth to join a rights club instead of soccer or drama or music. Nevertheless, there are about 200 clubs in primary and secondary schools throughout Kenya. The clubs focus on learning their rights, promoting those rights, and peer support. The clubs often have other activities as well, such as food drives, hospital and orphanage visits, and environmental days (cleaning up litter in Kenya could be a full-time program).

Lauren and I met with three clubs that represented different stages of the children’s rights clubs: primary, secondary, and ambassadors (club members who have graduated from high school, but maintain a relationship to the clubs).

Friendship Gavula Primary School, in Wedenga is tucked away in the hills about an hour outside of Kisumu, and draws students from a wide surrounding rural area. The teachers are very positive about the influence of the clubs, how the students are focused and dedicated to the rights movement, but also how they’re more disciplined and achieving better marks. I get the impression that order is very important here and part of the perceived value of the clubs is in how it contributes to school discipline.

After talking with the teachers we get to meet the students; about 30 are gathered in a classroom and seem eager to talk to the visitors. The children are soft-spoken, extremely polite, and deferential. They know their stuff, though, and talk about their rights, how they support each other, and have raised funds to help fellow students buy their uniforms or pay fees. Their isn’t a lot of affluence here, but they’re dedicated to sharing what they have – this is a recurrent theme at all our meetings with groups here in Kenya.

I invite them to ask questions of us. They're hesitant and shy, but after the first one, the questions come thick and fast. What’s our church like? What rights do Canadian children have? What are Canadian schools like? Is it really cold all the time in Canada? Are boys circumcised in Canada (that, in fact, was the first question!)?

Lauren and I do our best to answer, and then suggest we go outside for some pictures. The formal order of the classroom gives way to total mayhem in the schoolyard, as everyone wants their picture taken and to see their image on the camera’s LCD display. I hear ‘What about me?’ – code for ‘take my picture’ – over and over as I rapidly snap away, spawning gales of laughter amongst the kids. Just before we leave, the children offer us a gift of fresh-laid eggs to send us on our way.

The Kisumu Girls’ High School is on the main road in Kisumu, opposite western Kenya’s largest open-air market. Everything from cauliflower to coffins is sold at the open-air kiosks, and the banter of business penetrates the school walls. Most of the girls are gathering in the courtyard for assembly as we meet the members of the club. I’m unsure whether the formality and order arises out of the nature of the club, or is just simply normal in Kenyan schools (I’m inclined toward the latter), but we’re introduced to the chairman, vice-chairman, secretary, and treasurer, and a very sincere and earnest presentation about the club – its history, values, purpose, mission statement, goals, and achievements-to-date – ensues.

It’s obvious this is important stuff for these kids. Cynthia, the chairman, says the club’s goal is “creating an environment for children’s rights to be recognized around the world.” Although nervous about speaking in front of an audience, her enthusiasm comes through as she describes the weekly meetings, visiting orphanages and children in hospital, organizing clean-up days. The club, she says, has also changed its name from the Children’s Rights Club, to the Children’s Rights Movement, a significant choice, we all applaud.

Helen takes over, and speaks about the challenges they face as students, members of the club, and as African children. HIV-AIDS, poverty, nutrition, child-labour and abductions, drug abuse and social stigma are stories they are deeply aware of and affected by. The group is as much a social network and support system as an advocacy movement.

We’re running short on time, so when they’ve finished, I quickly turn it back to them to ask questions of us. After a round of questions about Canada and us personally, the kicker comes when Cynthia stands up and asks Tim about his absence at the club’s annual party, and whether he will be compensating the club for their disappointment. Tim’s a little taken aback and promises to ‘get back to them.’ It seems they’ve learned their lessons well – maybe too well from Tim’s point of view.

Earlier in the day we had met at KACCR’s new office; a converted house a few kilometers out of Kisumu. It’s in rough shape and needs lots of work, but they’re confident owning this is better than renting in Kisumu Town. I’m less convinced, as it’s a long way from town and the road in between is rough and steep; accessibility could be big problem. We gather there to meet with six young adults who are KACCR ambassadors.

Some of them were in clubs almost throughout their school years, and that’s left an indelible impression. They’ve all kept connections to their former clubs, and some have extended their involvement to helping to start new clubs in other schools. As mentors, they try to be supportive and helpful but also are aware that their roles are different now than before.

All six echo the values and purposes that we’ve heard from the kids at the primary and secondary schools. But, as well as being committed to children’s rights and doing good works, it’s clear these young adults are ambitious, high-achievers, and future leaders. Stella is studying business admin while working in Nairobi. Emmanuel is planning to study law, and David (the oldest in the group) has attended bible college and is now a pastor in a small church in Nairobi.