Kibera

I've been sitting here in front of the computer screen for 30 minutes now trying to figure out how to explain what I saw yesterday. It's not just a case of writer's block. it's more than that. It's disbelief, it's shock, and it's a feeling of complete helplessness. The one question that keeps repeating itself in my head is How is this possible? How can people truly live like this and the government not do anything to help?


Trash is everywhere- pounded into the dirt, lying next to vegetable and fruit stands, piling up near the railroad tracks, burning into the air leaving an odor you can never forget. Mud and dirt line the streets. Flies swarm everywhere you turn. And the smell of flying toilets and trash truly tests your gag reflexes.

I've been on mission trips before to poor parts of the U.S. and poor parts of other countries. But I've never seen something like this. It looks like it should be scenes leftover from a natural disaster.

The only difference is there is no clean up teams in place. This is how it is all the time, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year.



Michael and I took a matatu to Kibera today. We got off a few blocks early and had to walk to Nyumbani's clinic. As a white American (especially a white American female) Kibera is not a place you want to be walking alone during the day or night. I tried to keep my cool as hundreds of eyes glued to Michael and I as we were trying to find our way. To say I was nervous would be an understatement.



We arrived at Nyumbani's clinic in Kibera around 10 AM and we set out to follow a social worker, Sister Joyce, around to several home visits. Our first stop was to visit a 14 year-old girl who tested positive for HIV when she was born and now at age 14, it has escalated into full blown AIDS. Sara enrolled in the Nyumbani Lea Toto program just a few months ago. She started taking antiretroviral drugs two months ago- the same time she had to stop going to school because she was too weak. Just two weeks ago, she was admitted into a nearby hospital because she had TB and pneumonia. While in the hospital, her spirits dropped and she became very depressed. Once she regained enough strength, she came back home where she is cared for by her 16 year-old aunt pictured below. Sara's parents and siblings have all died from AIDS.


When we walked into Sara's house, I couldn't believe my eyes. Sara weighed 50 pounds. Her legs were smaller than the width of my wrist. She was completely skin and bones.

I've been in hospitals and nursing homes before but I've never seen someone look as sick as this child did. While she's taking ARVs, the likelihood that they will raise her CD4 count enough so she won't have full blown AIDS and instead just have HIV is not very high. It's just not fair. She was born with this horrible disease, the rest of her family has died from horrible disease, and now a teenager just two years older than her is responsible for her care. Sara told us how her favorite subject in school was science and that she wanted to become a doctor and she couldn't wait to get better and go back to school. Sadly, Sara may never get to go back.

What we've been learning is that the subordination of women in Kenya fuels the HIV epidemic. Take Kathy's story for example. Kathy is a 20 year-old HIV positive woman that we visited yesterday.

Kathy is from a city called Kismu. She is the oldest of her four siblings- all of which are boys. Both of her parents died from natural causes when Kathy was 16 leaving her in charge of her 4 brothers. Kathy decided that she should marry so she could provide some economic stability for herself and her brothers. Kathy married a man who did not disclose to her that he was HIV positive. She did not learn that her husband was HIV positive until she learned of her own positive status when she was giving birth to her first child. Her husband moved the family to Nairobi so he could find work but was unsuccessful. Now Kathy lives in a one bedroom shack in Kibera with her 4 brothers, her HIV positive husband and her 2 HIV positive children. Kathy is the only family member who makes any kind of income. Her husband got frustrated at the difficulty of finding work and the realities of Kibera and has turned to drinking. This is a problem all too common. People move from the rural areas to find work in the urban areas only to find out that unemployment is high and Kibera is worse than where they came from.


Unfortunately women often suffer the most from HIV/AIDS. Women have no voice in the bedroom here in Kenya. They don't have a choice of whether or not they want to have sex or whether they want to use a condom. Women have to depend economically on men. Women still do not have equal rights to men. And women are the ones who usually care for those family members who become hill from HIV/AIDS.

I'm realizing more and more how complex HIV/AIDS is. Until some of the many structural inequalities- subordination of women and the huge percentage of poverty- surrounding HIV/AIDS in the developing world begin to change, HIV/AIDS will never be combated.


After completing the home visits, we spent some time in Nyumbani's daycare that specializes in nutritional rehabilitation for HIV positive children. Michael and I were there around lunch time and got to feed several infants. The children are admitted here until they regain their strength and can stay at home with their parents.





I asked Sister Joyce if there was ever a way out of Kibera. She said sadly for most people there isn't a way. It's difficult to find jobs. Men will walk two hours to the Industrial Area in Nairobi to find a day labor job that won't pay more than 100-200 shillings a day which is about $3 per day. Women can find odd jobs like cutting firewood, washing clothes, or walking 10-15 minutes to get water for others. These jobs only pay about 100 shillings which is about $1.50 per day. A typical one bedroom house in Kibera costs 500 shillings a month. To fill up a jug of water costs 5 shillings; however the water is still unsafe to drink so you have to boil the water first before drinking. And to use a toilet costs 3-5 shillings per use. And on top of all that, the government only provides a few free primary education schools, which are already too full leaving parents no choice but to send their children to private more expensive schools if they want their child to be educated.


As Michael and I walked out of Kibera to catch a matatu to go back towards our apartment, we were both speechless. We were both completely drained because seeing everything we saw is exhausting. In a way I miss my ignorance. I'll never be able to forget the mass poverty I saw, Sara's face, and the all encompassing smell of Kibera.