Post #3 (Days 6-9) posted Thursday evening 8/2/07

Day 6: Thursday, July 26

The highlight of Day 6 was probably the morning spent with Samuel Kamau (chief logistician for KEPI), who gave us a personally guided tour of the grounds at the central storage warehouse for the national vaccine program. Mr. Kamau was kind enough to spend a good portion of his morning escorting us around, and we learned much more than we ever would have imagined. Team Kenya was able to meet with many members of Mr. Kamau’s supporting staff and got a firsthand look at the refrigeration equipment, the cold storage rooms and the stockpile of immunization/injection equipment which was brought in from UNICEF sources before it will be moved out into the provinces.

In addition to collecting data regarding KEPI’s logistical infrastructure, we even got a little cultural exchange when Fatima asked about the Kenyan national crest on the banner pictured below.

Samuel proudly explained this symbol of his country (with a great degree of enthusiasm and patriotism). You could tell that he had thought about this before, or maybe had learned it in grammar school.

Harambee, the national motto – it means “come together”, and you might recognize the phrase, Karl, because it comes from India. When Kenya gained its independence, we knew that in order for us to be successful and do what the British did, we must come together and unite, work together from all tribes.
Twin Lions on both sides of the crest? One of the big five, and the lion? Kings of the jungle. Representing strength.
The cock represents readiness, always being alert and ready, because in the morning, when you wake up, what do you hear? The cock-a-tootle-tooo!

See the spears, and the shield? Well, they represent self defense, self determination.

And what about your American symbol, the bald eagle. What does that mean?

Hmmm. Good question.
Zac tried to give it a shot.
Uhh… the American eagle? Well that’s like, um… freedom and stuff, because birds are like, mm… well you see, they fly.

Yeah.

After our tour, we said a warm goodbye to Mr. Kamau and split up into two groups. After walking for a bit in the wrong direction, Sam and Zac arrived five minutes late to their meeting with. Dr. Jackson Songa, a consultant who deals in matters of injection safety at John Snow Inc (JSI). Karl and Fatima visited the Department of Infectious Diseases at the University of Nairobi medical school and maintained due diligence in pursuing Dr. Tatu Kamau until they received approval letters in hand that would serve as clearance papers for our work in the western provinces next week.

Following a late lunch, and some afternoon exploration of the city, Zac swam and rested in the evening, while Fatima recovered from her brief visit to Kakamega (also that afternoon). Karl and Sam went out into the University of Nairobi to play soccer with some Kenyan boys, and everything in the day (in this week actually), has started to wind down.

It seems like we’ve done about as much as we can with the officials and administration in Nairobi for the time being. They’ve been amazingly helpful, but after our meeting at JSI, we’ve gotten the impression that we are about ready to leave Nairobi for now, and that our time in the next week or so will be best spent at Clinics, Hospitals and Dispensaries in the more rural provinces. Let’s hit the road.

Day 7: Friday, July 27: A visit to Kibera

HOW ARE YOU? HOW ARE YOU?!

We are walking through Kibera on a Friday afternoon and children come running to us from all sides while yelling this phrase, offering up their tiny hands for us to shake. It seems that “How are you?” must be one of the first English language phrases for ‘welcome’ that is taught in the primary schools here, and at the sight of us muzungu (foreigners), we are met by a chorus of greetings from the children nearby.

How are you? How are you!?!

We have been here since the morning, visiting the slum community of Kibera, searching for local healthcare centers and interviewing any workers or administrators involved in immunizations who are willing to speak to us. Kibera is huge and densely packed. An estimated 750,000 people (a population the size of San Francisco) lives here on the outskirts of Nairobi, squeezed into an area of approximately one square mile. It’s difficult to keep track of the numbers here because the government doesn’t like to encourage Kibera’s development or even acknowledge its existence, but today we are here.

Our guide is twenty six year old Paul Adaro, a remarkable man with a ready smile who has lived here for the past six years. He works for Special Ministries, a small faith-based organization that serves Kibera by offering food and counseling to local schoolchildren. After meeting us at the YMCA and a short ride in a matatu, Paul has been taking us around Kibera on foot and introducing us to the places and the people that he knows so well. As we walk up and down the dusty red clay paths, many members of the community come to greet Paul and to meet us with a smile and an outstretched hand.

Habari gain?
Nzuri Sana

How are you?
Very fine, thank you.

One of the places that Paul takes us is the Kibera Hope Center, where he both lives and works. Like almost all of the buildings here, it is a simple structure with little furnishing, sheet metal roofing and no electricity, but the modesty of the building itself cannot conceal the warmth that is suggested by the hearts and the work of the people that we meet within.

The lunch that they have prepared for us consists of bowls containing mostly beans and maize, a mixture that is somewhat difficult for our palates to put down. We sit on wooden benches and try to eat, mostly out of courtesy and respect for our hosts. Later on, Paul introduces us to his mother who is truly happy to see us and gives Sam and Zac a piece of roasted corn on the cob.

We are fortunate today, not only in that so many people are willing to help us, but also because the rain that just this morning, threatened to pour from overhanging clouds has never materialized. It is said that when it rains, Kibera just goes to shit. The sewage system is little more than a network of creeks, where rotting garbage finds itself alongside human waste. There is some access to a clean water supply, but people have to get by with little access to public infrastructure, very little money and virtually no electricity. The limited healthcare centers are definitely not up to the same standards that we are used to in the west, and at some points during our trip, the smell is so bad that we have to hold our breath. To a visitor from the United States, even a visiting glimpse at the scale of poverty experienced here may be enough to give new meaning to the word ‘poor’. However, while it may be true that Kibera is full of hardship, it is also full of life. Around every corner you will find someone selling something and a constant exchange of food and goods. Amid the dirtiness on the ground, the goods being sold to the people of Kibera are quite clean. Dress shoes and tennis shoes are washed and polished daily as they are spread out on tarps that separate them from the filth of the pathway. Jeans, slacks and dress shirts (many of Kibera’s residents work in Nairobi’s city center) are pressed and look good as new as they are hung out for display along the sheet metal walls of the market booths. And finally fresh fruit, vegetables, fish, bread, etc. are displayed in a fashion that would put Safeway to shame. Zac could not resist buying an avocado for 10 shillings ($0.15) and after eating it with lunch the next day he claims it is one of the best he has ever had.

Kibera can be a dangerous place, but here in the daytime with Paul at our side, we have never felt threatened. At the risk of romanticizing the lives of the poor, and even in acknowledgement of our own limited perspectives, we cannot deny that we have seen some very powerful and beautiful things here.

On a hospital door, we saw a small paper sign today, which simply said “Hope for Kibera” - and there is. There is hope and community. There are children crying here and children laughing. There is a quiet spark in the eyes of Paul Adaro when he speaks about his work. There is sweat and sadness in the streets of Kibera, but there is also soccer, and yes, there is joy.

So how are we?

It’s a good question, and at the end of the day it’s a lot to process.

Later on in the evening, we meet up with Karl’s relatives, Vasanth and Gita for drinks and dinner at an upscale Indian restaurant. We’re still in Nairobi, in the more affluent Westlands neighborhood, but we might as well be in another world. Vasanth and Gita are very good to us, and dinner is amazing, but around steaming plates of curry, behind the gates and the armed guards, it’s hard to believe that we are still in the same country.

Did today really just happen?

To learn more about the work of Special Ministries or to make a donation please write to:

Paul Adaro
Box 76270-00508
Nairobi, Kenya

or

AdaroLugaka@yahoo.co.uk

Day 8 and 9: Saturday and Sunday, July 28 and 29: Rest

The past week seems to have been much longer than five days. We are extremely pleased with our progress and how much we have learned. We are inspired to continue our project and experience life in the western provinces. We spent Saturday booking our flights at a travel agency in Westlands going through a friend of Gita’s. Once again we were treated to the luxury of having Vasanth’s driver, Peter drive us all over town to take care of our errands. We have settled on flying to Kisumu (1 hour flight, 6+ hour drive) on Sunday and returning the following Sunday. The tickets are reasonable ($125) and within our travel budget. Upon arriving in Kisumu we plan to split up with Karl and Fatima visiting hospitals and clinics in the Nyanza province while Zac and Sam continue to the north to Busia. We are pleased with our plan for efficiency hoping that our double coverage will allow us to better assess the potential for the microneedle’s use in these rural area. More than anything we want to impress the administrators at the Ministry of Health (KEPI) who have shared with us so much of their knowledge and trust.

It was nice to have the weekend to relax. We treated ourselves to a lunch in a touristy restaurant after which Sam and Fatima ventured out to the Saturday Village Market. Meanwhile Zac and Karl returned to the YMCA for an afternoon nap (Karl is starting to come down with Zac’s cold). Zac ventured over to the YMCA barber/beauty shop to get and haircut. After being shown a poster with pictures of 20 different African men and their different hair styles he was asked which he preferred. In the interest of time he just decided to take it all off with a number three (tatu). He is very pleased that he will not have to buy shampoo or comb his hair for the rest of the trip.

Saturday evening brought a heavy rainstorm that only lasted a few hours. It was very pleasant, especially since we were dining at the YMCA and relaxing in the comfort of our rooms. Sunday arrived with bright warm sun. Zac ate an avocado for breakfast and Sam and Fatima decided to head to church. Soon we will be leaving this bustling city and moving on to new adventures. Until our next post, we hope that everyone back in the states in doing well. We miss you all and look forward to seeing you soon.