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February 4 - February 4, 2020
SHOFCO is successful partly because it didn’t begin as an aid program at all but as a local empowerment movement,
“There are two ways of escaping your poverty,” he offers quietly. “One, you can use drugs, get drunk—escape. Or you can escape into the world of books; that can be your refuge.”
The words of my mother came to my mind: Ken, whatever you do, do it with one heart. If you’re peeling an orange, peel it well. Whatever you put your hand on, you have to make sure you have done your best.
This was my life—all that I could expect was to be harassed by the police, to be jobless and hopeless. My only crime was drawing life’s short straw. I did not know what to do, so I smoked bange and drank changaa until I no longer knew my own name.
Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that. Faith is taking the first step, even when you can’t see the whole staircase.
“Stop.” He cuts me short. “I could have had it before. I just never needed it. You know the problem with Americans? You always think the rest of the world is just waiting for your money.” With that he goes back inside.
“Guilt is a luxury,” Kennedy tells me.
We were the machines running Nairobi’s economy. It wasn’t our brains, but our strength that made us useful, until we had no strength left at all.
Meanwhile there were always more people coming to the slums from the villages, lured by the elusive promises of city life. Sadly, none of them could get an education or find work. There was no way out of poverty. If you protested, you would be killed. We were born poor, we would die poor.
They say love is supposed to set you free, but I think love binds you. It’s only once you’re so full of joy that you can imagine the devastation of loss.
I felt the blood rise in me. For too long my community had been told that we could not do anything by ourselves without money from the outside, without the financial support and wisdom from the Western world.
African problems would never be solved as long as advantaged people from the Western world thought that they could save our communities by starting organizations, or volunteering in Africa, without the actual and deep engagement of the communities they sought to improve.
Only he who wears the shoe knows how it pinches.
Rather than building free clinics that were actually accessible to people, these outsiders built inefficient ones devoid of community leadership and dignity. The majority of “local” staff who were hired did not actually live in Kibera, and they looked down on and disparaged community members. I also saw how “free” schools built by Western organizations secretly charged fees, and local staff members secretly raised the prices and pocketed the money when donors got back on their planes. NGOs came in and paid such inflated salaries that the local government and communities couldn’t compete.
“Forgiveness is not about him; it’s about me. I learned a long time ago, life is about choosing what you hold. That is what makes or destroys you.”
What appears to be tribal warfare is not only about tribes, but also about anger over inequality and better access to resources and opportunities.
Since Kenya declared independence from the British in 1963, only a few ethnic groups have dominated politics, and they have had access to better resources as a result.
Now I see that it doesn’t take much at all, simply a spark; if there is enough poverty and hopelessness to serve as kindling, the flame burns and burns.
When I think about how many people have already died, and how many more to come, I am sick. What a waste. And what are we fighting for anyway? Neither government party cares if we, the people, live or die.
at the party, I notice residential life coordinators, public safety officers, and police officers who are all there simply to ensure our safety. When I was growing up, no one looked out for my safety like this. Every time I saw a police officer in Kenya, he was there to harass, not to protect, me. Police officers in Kenya would threaten to imprison me if I couldn’t pay them a bribe, and my only crime was poverty.
In my African American theory class, my professor said something I just can’t shake: that interracial marriage is more common than interclass marriage.
I ask her incredulously, “What makes you think that we can win any of these?” She replies simply, “Well, doesn’t someone have to?”
While I live my life expecting to live, others expect that they might die. The rules of the world are not the same for all of us.
“When we break the silence, we end the violence,” and she makes herself right.
said YES, and my life changed. I believe we will only live in a better world if we are willing to take the risks to make it a reality, only if we are willing to say YES.
