Where to Begin?

Sitting in the luxury of the BA lounge in Heathrow, more than just a continent away from where I spent time during the last two days. The place in question is Mathare, the site of one of the Nairobi slums. As Mohammed, the director of Mama Fatuma’s, led me toward Mathare our path was half blocked by the neighborhood garbage dump complete with various animal carcasses. At least it wasn’t outside anyone’s house. We crossed the street and walked by the one piece of flat cleared land, where a serious game of football (soccer) was being played. From there it was all downhill, in more ways than one.

The Mathare slum is “home” to around 350, 000 “informal dwellers”. Having listened to the description of a “flying toilet” (trust me you don’t want to know) brought special meaning to the endless indescribable piles of garbage everywhere. As for “regular” toilets, it appears there are just four community toilets – really! There were eight or so more, but they were destroyed during the troubles. On this site, there is now a small billboard depicting the planned replacements – complete with landscaping!

The slum is located alongside the steep banks of a “river”. Given the state of the liquid oozing down it, ‘sewer” would be a more appropriate term. Mohammed had specifically suggested I bring my camera, but as we approached the bottom he was adamant it remain inside my bag. The reason soon became apparent. Alongside the river were dozens of illicit stills producing the highly potent and sometimes highly toxic spirit – changa. The stills are comprised of two oil drums, one containing a super hot charcoal fire, the other laid at an angle over the fire with a garden hose coming out of the high point. The hose leads to a copper coil set in the river and then into some form of plastic bottle. The stills represent the community’s major income-generator. The prospect of slipping and falling into the river didn’t bare thinking about as we crossed it via the random none-too-stable rocks passing for stepping-stones.

By this point we had been joined by Daniel, the administrator of a (the) “private” primary school. Private - because it is not funded by the government. Enrollment exceeds 550 kids. A classroom one would consider crowded with 15 students had a class roster of 61 kids. Children from the police houses nearby pay school fees. All the others are taught and fed from donations and proceeds from raising chickens. The teachers are paid, if there is money left over. Which, at least for one teacher, means he lives and works here. Click on the photo link to see teacher housing, Mathare style. And, yes I couldn’t resist, the chickens are there also.