August 13, 2009
The electricity supply in Addis is very reliable. In this sector of the city we reliably have electricity on odd numbered days and reliably none on even numbered days. Today is our day. Combined with the sound of thunder and heavy rain outside I have returned to bed huddled under a blanket and enjoying a cup of hot tea. Yesterday was the first day we didn’t see any rain; hopefully we are not destined to make up for it today. Already there are hopeful signs the rain is abating and will be dry soon. Ethiopia’s claim is the country with “13 months of sunshine”.
This is wintertime, so some rain and clouds should be expected, and yes we have seen a reasonable amount of sunshine. One would not suffer vitamin D deficiency in this climate. But 13 months? Yes. Officially Ethiopia still observes the Julian calendar. New Years Day is coming up in a little less than a month – September 11th. Prior to which we will have the 13th month of just five days, then celebrate the start of 2002. As if that is not enough to get ones head around, days here start at daybreak. What’s so unusual about that you might ask, except that we have grown up accepting that days start at midnight. Ask someone for the time here and be prepared to add six.
The storm has already passed, the sun is trying to make an appearance, the many birds are back in full song and my tea is finished. It must be time for a warm shower!
August 14, 2009
Yesterday was a pleasantly warm day with no more rain. That is until very early this morning (or very late last night on Ethiopian time) when the heavens opened. Not sure whether it was the flashes of light or the sound like someone dumping a load of gravel on the roof that woke me up. For 15-20 minutes we were treated to quite a storm. Again early morning the birds are back to singing.
Later the same morning
Little wonder it sounded like gravel being dumped on the roof. The streets are littered with piles of pea-gravel sized hail!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Now it is real or “And now for something completely different”
For the past couple of weeks I have been preparing to head for Ethiopia. Only now, somewhere over Africa between Amman and Addis at goodness knows what time (Seattle or local doesn’t matter) the “what am I doing” here point of reality once again is sinking in. Since returning from Nairobi every minute seems to have been consumed with all manner of business related to the rentals. Goodness knows what would have happened had we remained in Kilifi. The yard at the Queen Anne Hill house would have grown wild for yet another year for starters. It is amazing how much greenery, basically left to it’s own devises, grows in the span of 3-4 years! Five truck loads of greenery “recycled” and two loads of bark spread around, the place looks much smarter. A new coat of paint outside also helps. So, now the chance to think what next?
In the immortal words of Mont Python – “Now for something completely different”: The climate in Addis, being even higher in elevation than Nairobi, will be temperate, far different from the steamy coast of Kenya. Ethiopian culture, history, politics and tribal characteristics etc. will all be a new experience. Arriving in Addis will feel distinctly different from the experience of arriving in Nairobi. Nairobi was more akin to going home. As I was being driven from the Nairobi airport to the hotel the driver was pointing out the various places of interest – few had changed. “This is State House Road, home of the President” – yes but the more interesting landmark for me is the apartment building we just passed where I lived for a year in the mid-70s. Now I have no idea what to expect. Still with VSO, but working out in the Ethiopian VSO office, I will get to see the operation from the other side. To satisfy the requirements of a large Canadian grant supporting activities in 15 countries CUSO-VSO (the Canadian affiliate) is instituting a more standardized methodology for the monitoring and evaluation of the programs it will support. Delloite and Touche are providing the majority of volunteers to assist the country sites. Ethiopia is amongst a few countries they declined to send their employees.
Oopps, we are presumably approaching the monsoon effects the pilot eluded to earlier. More later….
In the immortal words of Mont Python – “Now for something completely different”: The climate in Addis, being even higher in elevation than Nairobi, will be temperate, far different from the steamy coast of Kenya. Ethiopian culture, history, politics and tribal characteristics etc. will all be a new experience. Arriving in Addis will feel distinctly different from the experience of arriving in Nairobi. Nairobi was more akin to going home. As I was being driven from the Nairobi airport to the hotel the driver was pointing out the various places of interest – few had changed. “This is State House Road, home of the President” – yes but the more interesting landmark for me is the apartment building we just passed where I lived for a year in the mid-70s. Now I have no idea what to expect. Still with VSO, but working out in the Ethiopian VSO office, I will get to see the operation from the other side. To satisfy the requirements of a large Canadian grant supporting activities in 15 countries CUSO-VSO (the Canadian affiliate) is instituting a more standardized methodology for the monitoring and evaluation of the programs it will support. Delloite and Touche are providing the majority of volunteers to assist the country sites. Ethiopia is amongst a few countries they declined to send their employees.
Oopps, we are presumably approaching the monsoon effects the pilot eluded to earlier. More later….
Random Thoughts on Leaving Kenya
The following are a collection of random thoughts I jotted down whilst sitting in Nairobi.
Why are there more expatriates working in Kenya now than in 1975 (at the time of the troubles the UN alone drew up evacuation plans for almost 10,000)?
Why do hundreds (literally) of government officials have to drive high-end turbo Mercedes saloons?
Why do the hundreds (if not thousands) of NGOs drive brand new expensive four-wheel drive vehicles – to drive around the city?
How do thousands of Kenyans acquire enough money to afford cars that cost more than 60% of the populace will earn in a lifetime?
And, why have those with the fancy cars allowed the transportation infrastructure to erode (in some places virtually disappear) such that any journey takes at least twice as long as in the mid-70s?
What happened to mandatory free primary education with almost 100% enrollment, were now only those that can afford the school fees send their children to school?
Why is there consistent pessimism that come 2012 (next elections) there will be a repeat of the troubles following the last election?
Why does the electricity go out so regularly in a city with so much visible wealth parading the city streets?
Why when Swahili is the country’s official language, are parliament proceedings again conducted in English?
Reflecting on these random thoughts the differences to Ethiopia are already striking.
Why are there more expatriates working in Kenya now than in 1975 (at the time of the troubles the UN alone drew up evacuation plans for almost 10,000)?
Why do hundreds (literally) of government officials have to drive high-end turbo Mercedes saloons?
Why do the hundreds (if not thousands) of NGOs drive brand new expensive four-wheel drive vehicles – to drive around the city?
How do thousands of Kenyans acquire enough money to afford cars that cost more than 60% of the populace will earn in a lifetime?
And, why have those with the fancy cars allowed the transportation infrastructure to erode (in some places virtually disappear) such that any journey takes at least twice as long as in the mid-70s?
What happened to mandatory free primary education with almost 100% enrollment, were now only those that can afford the school fees send their children to school?
Why is there consistent pessimism that come 2012 (next elections) there will be a repeat of the troubles following the last election?
Why does the electricity go out so regularly in a city with so much visible wealth parading the city streets?
Why when Swahili is the country’s official language, are parliament proceedings again conducted in English?
Reflecting on these random thoughts the differences to Ethiopia are already striking.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, June 22, 2009
It's not all corrupt politicians in Kenya
Want to see the raw side of Nairobi? You have a few choices, but one of them would be the Eastleigh estate, 5-6km from the city center. Bordering Eastleigh to the north is the Mathare slum. As the crow flies Eastleigh is less than a kilometer from Muthaiga Golf Club, the preferred country club of the diplomats and Kenyan elite. And, we are talking an elite level 18-hole championship golf course here, the site of one of the few professional golf tournaments each year. Even at the busiest of times, this remains a genteel, decorous place.
Eastleigh, as you might imagine, is a different story. People everywhere; vendor after vendor with goods laid out alongside the roads, piles of charcoal for sale, workshops of all kinds in rickety wood and corrugated iron structures, decrepit buses and trucks belching diesel fumes over everything. And, during the rainy season following heavy rains, the carters do a booming trade ferrying people past the ponds that form in the roads. So what on earth was I doing experiencing Africa in the raw? Visiting Mama Fatuma’s.
Mama Fatuma was apparently something of a legend, particularly in the Muslim community of Nairobi. Her legacy is an orphanage in Eastleigh next to Mathare. Anne and I visited when we were here two years ago. Information about the orphanage, like most everything else these days, “is on the web” at
http://www.mamafatumas.org/Welcome.html.
Mohammed Hiribae, a young local university student volunteering part-time at the orphanage was persuaded to take on the position of manager as the institution was struggling to stay afloat. Meeting such a bright, well-spoken and dedicated young (although not quite as young as I thought as he has a 10 year old son) Kenyan, one can believe that even Eastleigh and Mathare can be transformed. He is certainly doing his part.
He got the UK government to support construction of a new facility from which they could provide services to the community and generate some revenue for the orphanage. The sewing classes have already begun - we are talking treadle sewing machines here. The computer classroom is operational and in use by the kids. Formal classes will start as soon as the broadband connection comes to Nairobi in the next few weeks. The adult education, focused on the displaced Somalis in the neighborhood, will open in a month or so. The big draw will be the “internet café”, not much café but an impressive Internet set up. All of this while managing to keep their head above water with a full compliment of kids. The older boys and girls don’t leave until they are either employed full time and able to support themselves or attending college. One of those just starting college is on a full scholarship to study medicine in Ankara.
Eastleigh, as you might imagine, is a different story. People everywhere; vendor after vendor with goods laid out alongside the roads, piles of charcoal for sale, workshops of all kinds in rickety wood and corrugated iron structures, decrepit buses and trucks belching diesel fumes over everything. And, during the rainy season following heavy rains, the carters do a booming trade ferrying people past the ponds that form in the roads. So what on earth was I doing experiencing Africa in the raw? Visiting Mama Fatuma’s.
Mama Fatuma was apparently something of a legend, particularly in the Muslim community of Nairobi. Her legacy is an orphanage in Eastleigh next to Mathare. Anne and I visited when we were here two years ago. Information about the orphanage, like most everything else these days, “is on the web” at
http://www.mamafatumas.org/Welcome.html.
Mohammed Hiribae, a young local university student volunteering part-time at the orphanage was persuaded to take on the position of manager as the institution was struggling to stay afloat. Meeting such a bright, well-spoken and dedicated young (although not quite as young as I thought as he has a 10 year old son) Kenyan, one can believe that even Eastleigh and Mathare can be transformed. He is certainly doing his part.
He got the UK government to support construction of a new facility from which they could provide services to the community and generate some revenue for the orphanage. The sewing classes have already begun - we are talking treadle sewing machines here. The computer classroom is operational and in use by the kids. Formal classes will start as soon as the broadband connection comes to Nairobi in the next few weeks. The adult education, focused on the displaced Somalis in the neighborhood, will open in a month or so. The big draw will be the “internet café”, not much café but an impressive Internet set up. All of this while managing to keep their head above water with a full compliment of kids. The older boys and girls don’t leave until they are either employed full time and able to support themselves or attending college. One of those just starting college is on a full scholarship to study medicine in Ankara.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Troubles in Kenya part 2 or Freedom of the Press
If there is one bright spot to the political situation in Kenya it is the freedom of the press. In the mid-70s, during my first time in Kenya, to criticize Mzee Kenyatta, the highly revered leader and symbol of the fight for independence, was tantamount to treason. Criticism of minor government officials and quasi-governmental organizations was tolerated provided it didn’t get too close to Kenyatta and his family clan. It was left to “Joe”, a satirical comic strip magazine, to provide any real criticism, and then one had to be able to read between the lines and make inferences as to object of the barb. Not so now.
The two major dailies frequently publish scathing critics of Kibaki, the President, and Odinga, the Prime Minister (a position not officially provided for in the country’s constitution). Regardless of their frequent speeches condemning corruption and tribalism, both remain rampant (Transparency International just rated Kenya third worst in sub-Saharan Africa *); cronyism from the top down is all too evident. Following establishment of the coalition government the number of ministerial positions virtually doubled to find places for Odinga’s associates. Corruption today is far more pervasive - a situation most Kenyans attribute to the Moi years following Kenyatta’s death. The farmer cooperatives, beacons of Kenyatta’s “Harrambee” (help one another) movement are now mismanaged with funds frequently siphoned off into the managers’ pockets rather than returned to the farmers. The other legacy of the Moi, and to some extent Kenyatta, presidencies is the indiscriminate land redistribution to political supporters. As a consequence, in spite of the vast amounts of aid poured into the country, poverty is endemic and naturally a major source of discontent. Which brings me full circle to freedom of expression.
The Nairobi Museum just closed an exhibit titled Kenya Burning. An exhibit not for the faint hearted! An extensive collection of photographs and video footage by local and foreign photojournalists of last year’s riots. A large notice outside made it clear the content was not suitable for children. An understatement, it contained some truly gruesome scenes. Every Kenyan I have spoken with was horrified by the events, and by the fact that the current political situation is doing nothing toward reducing the likelihood of a repeat when the next elections roll around in 2012.
As one of the local reporters featured on the video said “we (the local news media) will take some responsibility if we allow a repeat of the violence”. They are trying! Unlike the poor state of political reporting in the US, here reporting is an equal opportunity affair here – every politician is fair game, no Fox-like one-sided reporting here.
* The TI ranking is somewhat misleading as there are no “failed states” high in the list. Obviously a country has to have some level of prosperity for bribery and corruption to be even possible.
The two major dailies frequently publish scathing critics of Kibaki, the President, and Odinga, the Prime Minister (a position not officially provided for in the country’s constitution). Regardless of their frequent speeches condemning corruption and tribalism, both remain rampant (Transparency International just rated Kenya third worst in sub-Saharan Africa *); cronyism from the top down is all too evident. Following establishment of the coalition government the number of ministerial positions virtually doubled to find places for Odinga’s associates. Corruption today is far more pervasive - a situation most Kenyans attribute to the Moi years following Kenyatta’s death. The farmer cooperatives, beacons of Kenyatta’s “Harrambee” (help one another) movement are now mismanaged with funds frequently siphoned off into the managers’ pockets rather than returned to the farmers. The other legacy of the Moi, and to some extent Kenyatta, presidencies is the indiscriminate land redistribution to political supporters. As a consequence, in spite of the vast amounts of aid poured into the country, poverty is endemic and naturally a major source of discontent. Which brings me full circle to freedom of expression.
The Nairobi Museum just closed an exhibit titled Kenya Burning. An exhibit not for the faint hearted! An extensive collection of photographs and video footage by local and foreign photojournalists of last year’s riots. A large notice outside made it clear the content was not suitable for children. An understatement, it contained some truly gruesome scenes. Every Kenyan I have spoken with was horrified by the events, and by the fact that the current political situation is doing nothing toward reducing the likelihood of a repeat when the next elections roll around in 2012.
As one of the local reporters featured on the video said “we (the local news media) will take some responsibility if we allow a repeat of the violence”. They are trying! Unlike the poor state of political reporting in the US, here reporting is an equal opportunity affair here – every politician is fair game, no Fox-like one-sided reporting here.
* The TI ranking is somewhat misleading as there are no “failed states” high in the list. Obviously a country has to have some level of prosperity for bribery and corruption to be even possible.
What am I doing here?
Sure, Anne and I had spent many hours going over the same question, and to their credit, VSO had posed the same question on multiple occasions during the selection and training sessions. Talk was now meeting hard reality. We inevitably arrived at the coast during the hottest part of the year, quickly disabusing me of my recollections of
Like any new position, the initial days were taken up becoming familiar with the organization and the different personalities. Before going any further let me explain that the office in downtown Kilifi, where the staff spends most of its time, is 40km (24 miles) from the region that houses the farmer communities being served. Of the 12 people in the office, 8 are young degreed expat volunteers and just three are local staff. Yes, the ratio of expats to locals is very unusual for a NGO here. One recent addition (she arrived two weeks ahead of us) has significant forestry experience; the others have liberal arts or undergraduate science background with limited or no prior professional experience. As I understood the assignment, I was to develop the process and operational infrastructure to support an organization, which aims to grow from 150 farmers and field staff to 10,000 over the next 4-5 years. So, though questioning the need for such a large expat staff, I was ready to get started. Fast-forward 8-9 weeks.
It became increasingly clear (to her credit Anne analyzed the pitfalls before I was ready to accept them) that the organizational structure and mode of operation were going to make implementation of change challenging. Not wishing to generalize and recognizing my limited exposure, I would not be surprised to see many of the following characteristics exhibited at other NGOs: a forceful, charismatic, controlling head, rather than leader; substituting fundraising rhetoric and documentation (at last count an 80 pages brochure) for operational strategic and business plans; minimizing input from the customer (farmers); collecting data with a view to publishing academic papers and satisfying perceived needs of donors, rather than the continuous quality improvement of the product delivery and operating environment. All of this I was observing exhibited in spades, prompting me to question afresh – what am I doing here?
Without going into further gory details, they and I parted company just over a week ago.
Meanwhile I have been in
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)