Huruma Slum

This morning I woke up to the sound of children shouting and having a good time. Obviously, Daisy lives near a school. As we left her house, a young girl hand washed clothes in her front room. I had seen the girl the night before and smiled when I walked in, but the girl had not done anything in response. This morning as we walked out the door in front of this girl and Daisy hadn’t said anything, I inquired who the girl was. Daisy told me she was like a house maid. The girl’s mother had sent her to work for Daisy’s family since the girl refused to go to school. The money the girl made would go back to the girl’s family or, if the girl decided to, would help finance her education. I find it remarkable that even when people, who live around and witness poverty daily, and have an opportunity for an education still don’t take it up. This makes me think, if Americans did see the poverty in Africa, would they not value their education any more than they do now? I know I do.

Sarah and I met up with Dr. Fabian Haas this morning to head to Huruma. My frustrations with the language barrier and understanding people with accents different from my own came visible when trying to contact and talk to my contact for the slums. Lucy, a researcher in the slums, was trying to organize everything for me. Her help was very much appreciated, but I don’t think the questions she asked me and the plans I made with her were understood by either of us very well. I thought we were supposed to meet her at Huruma at ten. After we arrived and she still wasn’t there, I called her. I had absolutely no idea what she had said. Sarah ended up calling her back and getting things straightened out. She didn’t come until an hour later with a group of international students. African time never fails to amaze me.

When we first arrived in the slum we were greeted by some very young children playing in the dirt. They ran to the fence yelling, “How are you? How are you?” After responding fine they would continue asking the question. Those three words seem to be the only words they know in English. I would later here this repeated over one hundred times throughout the day as we continued walking by and smiling at children.

Some local park rangers took us around the slum to give us a tour. Sarah explained to me the unavoidable cycle of poverty that occurred from living in the slum. People pay more per square meter living in a slum than they would in a house. The reason they can’t afford the house instead is that homes or apartments come much bigger than slums. The slum gets their electricity illegally, something these people would have to pay for when living somewhere else. People who had tried to leave the slum usually ended up coming back when they couldn’t afford food and other necessities. Each shack was made out of tin siding and dirt floors. Trash littered the entire area. I cannot even imagine living in such a place. Erosion had cut deep holes in the soil, a trap for anyone to fall into or trip on. Dirty water ran through these cuts, flowing into a river that flowed at the bottom of a hill. The shacks were positioned so close together we had to balance on slim pieces of dirt to prevent ourselves from falling into the shacks or the water as we walked down the hill. While walking through the area, it hit me that these were people’s homes. I felt as if I was encroaching on their personal space. For instance, random people would not just walk through my lawn at home. Walking in between their shacks was like walking through their lawns. However, no one seemed to care.

At the bottom of a hill rested a river. In the river, inhabitants of the slum washed their clothing and utensils. The water looked as if it was crawling with bacteria. However, this was the only option many of the people had. A park ranger explained to me there were pipes from the river to a water purification plant, but since a recent flood, their water had not been purified for the past two months. The park ranger had no idea when the water would begin being purified again. A makeshift bridge lay across the river. We all crossed it, praying it would hold our weight and we would not fall into the contaminated water below. On the other side, a fish pond was used for cultivating fish for the families of the slum to eat. Fabian explained how this system didn’t work the best either. Governments and other organizations come in and set up programs for the people. When the government is there and the funds are coming in the programs seem to work great. Soon the governments and organizations leave and the people have no money to pay for the maintenance of these programs. The fish pond is currently deteriorating.

We walked back up the hill, the same way we came down. When walking up, we ran into goats and other livestock feeding off of the trash littering the area. The goats’ fur had turned a deep red shade from the soil and grime the goats lived around; these animals were almost unrecognizable. We also visited a school within the slum. The school was one-room with three students sitting in the classroom when we entered. The three boys were copying words off of the chalk board. I gave them each a high five. The principal or person who had started the school then approached me. He explained to me the needs of the school. The children did not have lockers for their belongings, boots for their feet, and more importantly food for their lunch. The principal asked me if there was anything I could do to help. I told him I would see what I could do. He was so insistent on wanting the funds and asked for my e-mail address. I hesitantly gave it to him, wanting to help the children. The sad news is this is not my area. Sure I can help the children learn but when it comes to gathering money and really helping the school, non-governmental organizations are working in the area to do this. There are so many schools that need help. I later learned that this was a private school. The man had started the school on his own, and the students paid a subsidized fee to attend. I know the public schools in Kenya are not always well kept, but why was this man asking, no begging, me for money when his students could go to a school less than a block away? His insistence angered me. Yes, I want to help the children, but so many need help. I can’t help them all. Where and how do I start?

Our final stop was at the local church to meet with the community pastor. The chief was not in today so meeting with him would have to suffice for setting up my focus group discussion. He told the group some background on the slum. Huruma was founded in 1979 when the government displaced the people from another location. Most of the people working in the slum had a temporary job, usually collecting firewood in the local, protected forest across the river. This forest looked beautiful and served as a sanctuary to such an impoverished area. A fence had recently been put around this forest, the only one left in Nairobi and fought for by a Nobel Prize winner. The forest caused problems in the past for the people but now serves its purpose in the community. The community members are only allowed to collect the branches on certain days and at certain times to prevent deforestation from occurring. The pastor was passionate about what he talked about. His frustration with the government was obvious. He told us that in order to do anything the community would have to do it themselves. What I found really interesting was many members of government lived in gated communities right next to the slum. Some government members didn’t even know the slum existed, or if they did, cared to do nothing to help it. The government didn’t want people moving out of that area because those votes were essential to their elections. As another student joked about the corruption in their government, everything he said was true. The government in Kenya is so corrupt many seem to have forgotten about the people who live there.

I talked to the pastor, Sam, about my meeting. He told me that sodas would not be enough. I would have to compensate each person by at least 200 shillings. With my current budget, I will only be able to have ten people participate in the talk then. As frustrating as it is, I guess it will just have to do. Maybe this is just a nice welcome to the real world of research, where every dollar has to be spent wisely.