Tonight is lonely, quiet and humid. The lack of free entertainment is something that reminds me of life here however. No television, no radio, no movie because of my lack of CD-rom in my netbook, and no real outings places to go that are 1)safe, and 2) free. Unless there are undiscovered hang out places I have no idea what people do here.. STILL. Yes, we venture to the bars, beach and into town but I can't seem to figure out where the "young" people my age are... its a mystery. If I had unlimited shiling (kenyan currency) I would find out. I would hunt for them. But alas I have little shilling and live halfway between Nyali (the nice/rich area of mombasa) and Old town- the thriving center of mombasa, so here I am on a Saturday night stuck. Now dont get me wrong I had opportunities to go out and party, but let's just say last night was "too much." If the internet/electricity goes out, I'm also out, out of luck. I would try to sleep but well its too damn hot.
So what have I done tonight? Sat on facebook and untagged pictures of myself... for like an hour. What a sad excuse of a Saturday night! Facebook is currently my frenemy... I long to deactivate, yet it is my true source of connection to people back home. Home. Where is my home? After living at school, moving down to North Carolina, and now living here in Kenya... where do I call home? I never imagined living back in Livonia, for more than a few months of transition, but as life has evolved, I know not where the transition will be too. One thing is for sure I miss walking on carpet barefoot, sitting around in my underwear eating gf crackers while watching CNN, and most of all living alone.
There is too much time here to think. And by think I mean overthink. One of my host Mamas, Mavella told me just a few weeks ago, that the worst thing anyone can do is to get lost in their own head. She told me this after revealing what life is like for a woman whose husband decides to take a second wife. Polygamy is largely practiced here in Kayafungo. She told me how no matter what to push on, and busy the hands, to busy the mind. Her advice I hate to say is so right, yet here I am sitting in my moist apartment lingering in my head. Flipping through old photos of the days at Central, wishing I was there, wishing my friends where here, wishing my hair looked that good here, wishing my hair was long or even short like the pictures, wishing I could see the snow, wishing I was as tan as some of the pictures, basically wishing for the best of all the worlds and all the things I've been so lucky to do the last few years.
Wishing gets you no where. Living is what drives the dreams we have, and reach for. I should get off my tush and go do something!
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Kombe Chronicales Part 1
Kombe is a ten year old with the curiousity of epic adventures. Armed with his sling slot and dreams, he roams the dirt paths of Kayafungo looking for the unknown. He braves the brush and shrubs in search of creatures. If unearthed he befriends them as his new found pet, others may see this action as imprisonment but either way Kombe is appeased.
His most recent adventure brought him to Harriet the hummingbird. Harriet made her home in a lemon tree behind Kombe's hut. Kombe was out slinging rocks at chickens and goats when one of his arsenal went ary. The pellet flew into the lemon tree and stunned a very suprised Harriet. Harriet fell out of her nest with a soft thud. Kombe rushed to her aid. He was relieved when he discovered Harriet was well, scared, but overall just fine. Kombe scooped her in his calloused hands to place her back in her nest. As he was gently laying her in her home, Kombe discovered Harriet was a Mama. Mama Harriet had three small turquoise eggs in her cozy nest. After Kombe's rush of excitment and small high giggle sounded, he placed Harriet in her nest then plucked the whole thing out of the lemon tree. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him into his hut.
Kombe raced around inside trying to find a suitable resting place for Mama Harriet and her eggs. He placed her in a kanga that he has folded into a circluar ring, a nest for the nest. Then rushed over to his mother's sewing kit. Kombe withdrew a small silver needle and spool of brown thread, what his mother mends his school uniform with, and raced back to Mama Harriet.
Upon reaching Mama Harriet, kombe saw she was coming backaround and he needed to work quickly. He took hold of Mama Harriet by the wings and set to work. Kombe quickly and efficiently threaded Mama Harriets left leg to the small nest with her eggs in it. After his work he perched Mama Harriet over her babies and said good night.
The next morning Kombe checked his new pet. He saw that Mama Harriet was fairing well and was in the same position as the night before. Kombe left for school in his brown shorts and bright blue school uniform with satisfaction his new pet would be waiting for his return.
While Kombe was learning his 1,2,3s Mama Harriet was trying to break free from her prison. She needed to hunt so she would be able to feed her newborns as they were due to hatch any time. Mama Harriet tried and tried and flapped her wings with such force she was creating small dust swirls around her captive nest. Mama Kombe while taking chai heard this camotion in the corner and went to investigate. Armed with her palm branch broom she quietly approached the corner prepared to eliminate any vermon she discovered. To her great suprise she found Mama Harriet! Mama Kombe scooped up the nest, tore the string free from Mama Harriets leg, with her broad skilled hands and set her free. Mama Harriet dove and circled around Mama Kombes head in skillful aircraft tactics. Mama Kombe recognized this maternal instinct of protrcting the eggs from danger, and softly and slowly took the nest to the maurubine tree just near the lemon tree. Mama Harriet followed Mama Kombe back to the house before resting on her new perch.
Mama Kombe waited all day for Kombe to come home. Kombe rushed into the house as dusk approached, coming from school hastily instead of his usual slow tempo. The door burst open to the house and he went straight to the corner he placed Mama Harriet in. Mama Kombe watched her son from the doorway to the kitchen, she slowly stirred the pot containing dinner, as she saw the look of horror and sadness roll over Kombe's face. Kombe screamed and demanded to know where Mama Harriet was. Mama Kombe calmly replied she has no idea about what he was referring to. Kombe let out a mournful wail, tears leaking down, and staggered outside to check the lemon tree. To his great sadness, Mama Harriet was not there.
Shida has been following Laura and I
During my fellowship I am accompanied by a fellow Fellow, Laura MacArthur. She is working on an agricultural project as I am working on a health and sanitation project. During the last few weeks we seem to be Mazungu Magnets for shida.
Shida is a Swahili word for problem. And let me tell you Laura and I know the meaning of Shida here.
A few weeks ago Laura and I were in Nairobi, after a series of meetings falling through we decided to go to the Masai Mara, a well known safari area, known most for the wildabeast migration, and the vast views of the Rift Valley, home to many animals including SIMBA! (Lions!). The morning we are to leave, I am awoken at 3 am with the most intense stomach cramping I have ever felt. The next 3 hours were spent rushing to the bathroom with the Kenya equivalent of Montazuma's revenge. Needless to say the safari was to be delayed. Laura and I, along with our Country Director, Abdallah, pile into a car and head into town to go to the hospital. The hospital is pretty empty, and the night shift is ready to help. I have to leave a stool sample and give 3 vials of blood. Laura came back into the hospital room with me as to keep me company. The RN on duty- a guy who has little practice with English, one of Kenya's native languages, tells Laura she is the run the samples to the lab. Laura, a non medical personelle member, is to take my poop and blood to some unknown corner of the hospital... can we say WHAT? How is this even allowed to occur? Well either way she trots off with the "goodie" bag and goes to the lab. While she is gone the trusty RN fills my IV line- which he had less than zero skill putting in- 2 weeks later I still have a bruise!- with a medicine that makes my head feel like it could pop off. No warning, no nothing. I just have the strangest sensation, and when I panic because I think I'm about to stroke out the machine I'm hooked too goes haywire from my heartrate, and the RN goes, "oh you will feel funny for a minute. don't worry. hakuna shida!" WHAT! What kinda of Nurse are you--- oh right you aren't even a doctor--- great. At this time Laura arrives after a mouse maze to get to the lab. Story gets better later in the day... but basically I had a bacteria and a 104 fever! Yikes. At least it wasn't malaria- like the day doctor who came on duty was extremely worried it was.
The next day we delayed the safari again and I sat around recovering and visiting my new favorite place the bathroom- in which the toilet also had flushing issues!
Finally the safari! Laura and I are all packed up in our tourist clothes, and we are off. We get in the van to take us to the mara and about 3 hours into the drive, the van breaks down. It doesn't just sort of break down, it breaks down in the middle of no where! The only thing around are a herd of masai children who are so excited they cant stop crowding around, and trying to touch our "soft hair." needless to say the situation was less than wonderful. Another safari van rolls up, and by random chance a guy on safari is a mechanic, he climbs under the car and says that the issue is the radiator, it has a leak. He suggests taking it somewhere to get a patch, and then a driver of yet another safari van says, "oh no when we are out in the mara we use this!" He produces from a pocket an ORAL REHYDRATION SALT packet! Needless to say the mazungu with the degree was ignored and the rehydration packet was used, as Laura and I were shuffled into a different van like sardines with a church group. This set the tone for the safari. The car broke down EACH DAY we were in the mara. INcluding on the drive back home.
The following days consisted of Laura and I's tuk-tuk, a small cab that runs on a vesper's motor, breaking down and rushing into oncoming traffic, the lights at the grocery store going out when we are there- 3 times. AND a movie we went to see flickering and dying in the middle. SHIDA SHIDA SHIDA. We are now the Kenyan Queens of Shida. We should make headpieces for each event that happens, it would be enormous. One day Laura and I will document fully the shida that has happened in more epic details.
Shida is a Swahili word for problem. And let me tell you Laura and I know the meaning of Shida here.
A few weeks ago Laura and I were in Nairobi, after a series of meetings falling through we decided to go to the Masai Mara, a well known safari area, known most for the wildabeast migration, and the vast views of the Rift Valley, home to many animals including SIMBA! (Lions!). The morning we are to leave, I am awoken at 3 am with the most intense stomach cramping I have ever felt. The next 3 hours were spent rushing to the bathroom with the Kenya equivalent of Montazuma's revenge. Needless to say the safari was to be delayed. Laura and I, along with our Country Director, Abdallah, pile into a car and head into town to go to the hospital. The hospital is pretty empty, and the night shift is ready to help. I have to leave a stool sample and give 3 vials of blood. Laura came back into the hospital room with me as to keep me company. The RN on duty- a guy who has little practice with English, one of Kenya's native languages, tells Laura she is the run the samples to the lab. Laura, a non medical personelle member, is to take my poop and blood to some unknown corner of the hospital... can we say WHAT? How is this even allowed to occur? Well either way she trots off with the "goodie" bag and goes to the lab. While she is gone the trusty RN fills my IV line- which he had less than zero skill putting in- 2 weeks later I still have a bruise!- with a medicine that makes my head feel like it could pop off. No warning, no nothing. I just have the strangest sensation, and when I panic because I think I'm about to stroke out the machine I'm hooked too goes haywire from my heartrate, and the RN goes, "oh you will feel funny for a minute. don't worry. hakuna shida!" WHAT! What kinda of Nurse are you--- oh right you aren't even a doctor--- great. At this time Laura arrives after a mouse maze to get to the lab. Story gets better later in the day... but basically I had a bacteria and a 104 fever! Yikes. At least it wasn't malaria- like the day doctor who came on duty was extremely worried it was.
The next day we delayed the safari again and I sat around recovering and visiting my new favorite place the bathroom- in which the toilet also had flushing issues!
Finally the safari! Laura and I are all packed up in our tourist clothes, and we are off. We get in the van to take us to the mara and about 3 hours into the drive, the van breaks down. It doesn't just sort of break down, it breaks down in the middle of no where! The only thing around are a herd of masai children who are so excited they cant stop crowding around, and trying to touch our "soft hair." needless to say the situation was less than wonderful. Another safari van rolls up, and by random chance a guy on safari is a mechanic, he climbs under the car and says that the issue is the radiator, it has a leak. He suggests taking it somewhere to get a patch, and then a driver of yet another safari van says, "oh no when we are out in the mara we use this!" He produces from a pocket an ORAL REHYDRATION SALT packet! Needless to say the mazungu with the degree was ignored and the rehydration packet was used, as Laura and I were shuffled into a different van like sardines with a church group. This set the tone for the safari. The car broke down EACH DAY we were in the mara. INcluding on the drive back home.
The following days consisted of Laura and I's tuk-tuk, a small cab that runs on a vesper's motor, breaking down and rushing into oncoming traffic, the lights at the grocery store going out when we are there- 3 times. AND a movie we went to see flickering and dying in the middle. SHIDA SHIDA SHIDA. We are now the Kenyan Queens of Shida. We should make headpieces for each event that happens, it would be enormous. One day Laura and I will document fully the shida that has happened in more epic details.
Time to get serious about blogging........
I've been in Kenya now since August. A whole 3 months, 1/4 of a year, 9 weeks, and no matter how I measure the increment of time that has passed it seems like my life has been a serious of trials, successes and ....... well.... unbelievable events. Some days I feel like to quote my favorite musicians, a candle in a hurricane! Other days I feel like this is the life I am destined for, and I find myself daydreaming of how to build a house here, and the amenities that I would need to install in said house to live a "normal" life. Normal. Ha. Nothing about life here is normal. Starting in the morning I have to use bottled water to brush my teeth, rinse and gurgle. The morning routine of a shower, potential shave of the legs- ha why bother? Can't show my knees- so wear pants, becomes an obstacle. The water for the shower comes in small bursts of ice cold water- water that even Lake Michigan would run screaming from in the middle of winter. Then to complete the morning trifecta, the toilet. Ah the toilet with its western style seat, raised in a familiar way, will most mornings mutiny and refuse to flush. This country seems to have the idea for the toilet in mind, but the mechanics that go into said technology are less than stellar.
On that particular note, it must be said that Kenya is a country full of jerry rigged things. Our internet cable, for example, runs down the side of our 8 floor apartment complex, is secured on the roof by twine and a metal rod to which the receiver box is taped and hoisted into the air a good 10 meters. Looking out across the length of the rooftop it can be seen that is a common practice. While on the roof you will also see the sadest attempt at a clothesline from the token "mazungus," (what Kenyans call white people, not in an offensive manner, just way it is...) living here. Kenya is a city full of creativity because of this phenomenon of jerry-rigging everything and anything.
Most days I look around and think to myself- do I really live here? What am I doing? How is this "normal?" CRAZY things happen without a particular reason. Shida is a Swahili word for problem. Hakuna Shida means "no problem." similar to the overused, widely known saying from the Lion King movie, Hakuna Matata, meaning no worries. To use Hakuna matata in Kenya is a tourist trap. The Kenyans around you will pounce on you like a hungry lion to a wildabeast as they realize you are a walking dollar sign. You will be escorted to your destination- you may or maynot have needed help finding- then upon arrival charged by this Kenyan entrepreneur who saw an opportunity to exploit a mazungu using a taboo phrase. Whats the bottom line- WHEN TRAVELLING TO KENYA DO NOT USE PHRASE HAKUNA MATATA- USE HAKUNA SHIDA.
Hakuna Shida. Ah. words that if you come to Kenya you will hear a zillion times a day, and will eventually want to tell the person speaking the words where to stick the phrase. Hakuna Shida. No worries. Usually when this phrase is babbled.... there is a HUGE shida. A huge problem. Never underestimate however the person saying this to jerry-rig a solution to the problem. This solution will most undoubtedly be the wildest solution that in fact will bring more shida to unfold. Beware of the shida.
On that particular note, it must be said that Kenya is a country full of jerry rigged things. Our internet cable, for example, runs down the side of our 8 floor apartment complex, is secured on the roof by twine and a metal rod to which the receiver box is taped and hoisted into the air a good 10 meters. Looking out across the length of the rooftop it can be seen that is a common practice. While on the roof you will also see the sadest attempt at a clothesline from the token "mazungus," (what Kenyans call white people, not in an offensive manner, just way it is...) living here. Kenya is a city full of creativity because of this phenomenon of jerry-rigging everything and anything.
Most days I look around and think to myself- do I really live here? What am I doing? How is this "normal?" CRAZY things happen without a particular reason. Shida is a Swahili word for problem. Hakuna Shida means "no problem." similar to the overused, widely known saying from the Lion King movie, Hakuna Matata, meaning no worries. To use Hakuna matata in Kenya is a tourist trap. The Kenyans around you will pounce on you like a hungry lion to a wildabeast as they realize you are a walking dollar sign. You will be escorted to your destination- you may or maynot have needed help finding- then upon arrival charged by this Kenyan entrepreneur who saw an opportunity to exploit a mazungu using a taboo phrase. Whats the bottom line- WHEN TRAVELLING TO KENYA DO NOT USE PHRASE HAKUNA MATATA- USE HAKUNA SHIDA.
Hakuna Shida. Ah. words that if you come to Kenya you will hear a zillion times a day, and will eventually want to tell the person speaking the words where to stick the phrase. Hakuna Shida. No worries. Usually when this phrase is babbled.... there is a HUGE shida. A huge problem. Never underestimate however the person saying this to jerry-rig a solution to the problem. This solution will most undoubtedly be the wildest solution that in fact will bring more shida to unfold. Beware of the shida.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Witchcraft?
Witchcraft. Burning at the stake. Accusing those who live amongst us, the devote, the faithful, the opinionated. This happens not in Salem many decades ago but in Africa, present day. In a village that is coming into its own, divided by poverty and educational level. A village where wealth is measured by wives and cattle. A village where men sneak and creep in the middle of a dark cool crisp night, waiting, watching, seizing the moment to strike at the hearts of the weak. The hearts of the witches. Machetes in hand, torches in the other, bare feet moving as silently as crickets along the uneven earth approaching ever closer to the wicked. Those possessed by the demons of beyond this world, demons that kill the crops, disease the cows and infest the wombs of the women. Demons which allure the young to drink, and the women to be loose. Demons which use temptations of the flesh to swoon and woo, only then to enter the body in the shape of a virus, that destroys the immune system, that weakens the already famished. The men sneak and come in the night to stop the spread of demons as if they themselves are the cleansers of the community. Witchcraft. Must be stopped. Must be ended.
A man in the crowd wonders aloud, “Is this really witchcraft?” His voice barely a decibel above a whisper, yet the men in the crowd with machetes in hand and torches in the other all hear over the patter of their feet on the earth. A whisper that brings a halt to the precession of demise, a whisper that brings the man to his death, a blow so swift and sharp, his lips still in the form of a whisper. Deaths for asking a simple question most were thinking. This is a mob on a mission to cleanse their community of a demon that has spread its arms to embrace the weak, the elders, the unborn and the mothers. A demon that knows no boundary, that seeps into the marrow of the living who helplessly watch all around them meet the darkness. This is a mob that has lost itself to a demon that the rest of the world is still fighting. This demon has no cure. This demon loves to thrive on the vulnerable. This demon has friends who embark on the infestation before he comes calling. His friends are violent and stealth, not always showing there faces, hiding in the dark, while the demon sets himself up nicely to invade. The demon and his friends have travelled the world over. Yet, find a nice home in Africa, where their fruits are plenty. When will this witchcraft and witch hunt finally come to an end?
A man in the crowd wonders aloud, “Is this really witchcraft?” His voice barely a decibel above a whisper, yet the men in the crowd with machetes in hand and torches in the other all hear over the patter of their feet on the earth. A whisper that brings a halt to the precession of demise, a whisper that brings the man to his death, a blow so swift and sharp, his lips still in the form of a whisper. Deaths for asking a simple question most were thinking. This is a mob on a mission to cleanse their community of a demon that has spread its arms to embrace the weak, the elders, the unborn and the mothers. A demon that knows no boundary, that seeps into the marrow of the living who helplessly watch all around them meet the darkness. This is a mob that has lost itself to a demon that the rest of the world is still fighting. This demon has no cure. This demon loves to thrive on the vulnerable. This demon has friends who embark on the infestation before he comes calling. His friends are violent and stealth, not always showing there faces, hiding in the dark, while the demon sets himself up nicely to invade. The demon and his friends have travelled the world over. Yet, find a nice home in Africa, where their fruits are plenty. When will this witchcraft and witch hunt finally come to an end?
time to get serious
It's a few days before April and it's time to get serious about fundraising. If you stumble across this please donate at www.thinkimpact.org/alex Any amount WILL HELP! Thanks!
I'm also going to be blogging about Creative Stories that I thought about while I was in Kenya.
*** HERE IS MY DISCLAIMER!******
These are FICTIONAL STORIES. Whiles some aspects of these stories are true, this does not mean that this is what happens in Kayafungo, Kenya.
That being said ENJOY!
I'm also going to be blogging about Creative Stories that I thought about while I was in Kenya.
*** HERE IS MY DISCLAIMER!******
These are FICTIONAL STORIES. Whiles some aspects of these stories are true, this does not mean that this is what happens in Kayafungo, Kenya.
That being said ENJOY!
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Suds n' Plugs
It has become more and more apparent that education is the key to helping break down barriers in developing countries, such as rural Kenya. Investing in young girls education is linked to increasing gender equality. By educating girls and women many positive changes within a community can occur; higher wages, a greater likelyhood of working outside the home, lower fertility; reduced maternal and child mortality; and better health and education. The impact is not just within the women's lifetime, but has lasting effects on health, education, sanitation and productivity of future generations. There is a saying in Africa that it takes a whole village to raise a child, and since the women are primarily care givers, it takes a whole village of women to raise one child!
Around the world, women lag behind men in terms of education, access to healthcare, work, and opportunities in the political areas. According to the Council on Foreign Affairs, "there may be no better investment for health and development of poor countries around the world than investments to educate girls." Gender gaps are seen in access to education very visably in primary school. Income, geography, social and cultural norms come into play when looking at many communities. It is often thought that investing in the males in the family is the only option when it comes to financing school fees. Young girls are often left behind, even if they have great potential. Young girls become victims to losing their childhood, by having to take on more womanly roles: cooking, cleaning, child care, fetching water, ext. This cultural norm can lead to higher fertility rates, higher maternal and child mortality and higher causes of female reproductive issues/infection because young girls are beginning to have children to early.
In my Fellowship project, a large component is health and sanitation education in schools. Sanitation efforts and healthy habits need to be established within the nursery schools, where children in Kayafungo learn to read and write. This is a perfect way to start building a generation of informed healthy adolescents. Primary schools and secondary school is where the focus must be made in dealing with reproductive health, healthy relationships and then reinforcing sanitation ideas. Investments in early education creates lasting prevention efforts later in life.
My commitment to health improvement and women’s empowerment became solidified as I experienced life in Kayafungo, Kenya, a rural Southeast Kenya devastated by poverty and poor sanitation.
While in Kenya, Grace shed some light on the issues about gender equality, and lack of access to education. She was extremely passionate about how young female students were missing almost one week of school per month because of their menstruation cycle, and that female reproductive health was breezed over in school, leaving female youth questioning what was happening to their bodies with no one to ask about it. Many female youth when surveyed said, they were uncomfortable asking their teachers, who were mostly males, about their cycle, and that their mothers did not seem open to the discussion. Young girls and women of Kayafungo do not have readily available sanitation pads to use during their cycle, and are reduced to using bits of cloth or fabric. This practice is not only ineffective to stop leakage, but coupled with a lack of access to clean water, it is unhygienic and potentially very harmful. Grace and many other women in Kayafungo wish for their daughters, nieces and other girls to have a chance at a childhood the women never had. Grace and I gathered CHTs and local women to create a social enterprise, a soap business that will bring in financial means to support health and sanitation endeavors within the community at large, and have a specific focus on female health sanitation. The soap business will provide capital to start a Women’s Action Center, a hub for the soap business, hold soap making demonstration, a place where soap and other sanitation products will be sold to local community members and schools, trainings on health issues, and a community center for young girls to come and discuss health topics in an open and nurturing environment. The Women’s Action Center allows for many issues to be addressed, the large goals being improve health and sanitation, increase girl attendance in school, and positively improve the lives of young girls and women in Kayafungo.
The Kayafungo Mungano (united) women's group is the women's organization that I started to help address health and saniation issues in Kenya. We have already made a huge impact. The 30 women that make up the KMWG come from various areas within the community; have diverse skills and a passion for improving health and sanitation as a whole in Kayafungo. The women and I formed the KMWG, started a soap business where 250 bars of soap were made from local materials to be sold in the community market, improving the sanitation on homes in the community, a total of approximately 500 people. Every single bar of soap was sold during our first business day, grossing 3000 shillings, equivalent to $43 USD, and with most of the community living on under $1 USD a day, this is a huge accomplishment. Part of this money was put towards registering the KMWG with the government, the rest was put aside to later invest in the building of the Women’s Action Center, the long term goal of the KMWG. The women met on a bi-weekly schedule to create soap, discuss philanthropy opportunities in the community, and to work on skill building. While I was in the community we had six successful meetings, and one soap making session.
My fellowship project is a social enterprise based idea that will lead to great sustainable change within Kayafungo. This project has taken many different turns and has been a constant flow of thoughts, input from others, and a wonderful learning experiance. I am most proud of the fact that the women's group is already established, has sustainable qualities and we have only just begun.
Around the world, women lag behind men in terms of education, access to healthcare, work, and opportunities in the political areas. According to the Council on Foreign Affairs, "there may be no better investment for health and development of poor countries around the world than investments to educate girls." Gender gaps are seen in access to education very visably in primary school. Income, geography, social and cultural norms come into play when looking at many communities. It is often thought that investing in the males in the family is the only option when it comes to financing school fees. Young girls are often left behind, even if they have great potential. Young girls become victims to losing their childhood, by having to take on more womanly roles: cooking, cleaning, child care, fetching water, ext. This cultural norm can lead to higher fertility rates, higher maternal and child mortality and higher causes of female reproductive issues/infection because young girls are beginning to have children to early.
In my Fellowship project, a large component is health and sanitation education in schools. Sanitation efforts and healthy habits need to be established within the nursery schools, where children in Kayafungo learn to read and write. This is a perfect way to start building a generation of informed healthy adolescents. Primary schools and secondary school is where the focus must be made in dealing with reproductive health, healthy relationships and then reinforcing sanitation ideas. Investments in early education creates lasting prevention efforts later in life.
My commitment to health improvement and women’s empowerment became solidified as I experienced life in Kayafungo, Kenya, a rural Southeast Kenya devastated by poverty and poor sanitation.
While in Kenya, Grace shed some light on the issues about gender equality, and lack of access to education. She was extremely passionate about how young female students were missing almost one week of school per month because of their menstruation cycle, and that female reproductive health was breezed over in school, leaving female youth questioning what was happening to their bodies with no one to ask about it. Many female youth when surveyed said, they were uncomfortable asking their teachers, who were mostly males, about their cycle, and that their mothers did not seem open to the discussion. Young girls and women of Kayafungo do not have readily available sanitation pads to use during their cycle, and are reduced to using bits of cloth or fabric. This practice is not only ineffective to stop leakage, but coupled with a lack of access to clean water, it is unhygienic and potentially very harmful. Grace and many other women in Kayafungo wish for their daughters, nieces and other girls to have a chance at a childhood the women never had. Grace and I gathered CHTs and local women to create a social enterprise, a soap business that will bring in financial means to support health and sanitation endeavors within the community at large, and have a specific focus on female health sanitation. The soap business will provide capital to start a Women’s Action Center, a hub for the soap business, hold soap making demonstration, a place where soap and other sanitation products will be sold to local community members and schools, trainings on health issues, and a community center for young girls to come and discuss health topics in an open and nurturing environment. The Women’s Action Center allows for many issues to be addressed, the large goals being improve health and sanitation, increase girl attendance in school, and positively improve the lives of young girls and women in Kayafungo.
The Kayafungo Mungano (united) women's group is the women's organization that I started to help address health and saniation issues in Kenya. We have already made a huge impact. The 30 women that make up the KMWG come from various areas within the community; have diverse skills and a passion for improving health and sanitation as a whole in Kayafungo. The women and I formed the KMWG, started a soap business where 250 bars of soap were made from local materials to be sold in the community market, improving the sanitation on homes in the community, a total of approximately 500 people. Every single bar of soap was sold during our first business day, grossing 3000 shillings, equivalent to $43 USD, and with most of the community living on under $1 USD a day, this is a huge accomplishment. Part of this money was put towards registering the KMWG with the government, the rest was put aside to later invest in the building of the Women’s Action Center, the long term goal of the KMWG. The women met on a bi-weekly schedule to create soap, discuss philanthropy opportunities in the community, and to work on skill building. While I was in the community we had six successful meetings, and one soap making session.
My fellowship project is a social enterprise based idea that will lead to great sustainable change within Kayafungo. This project has taken many different turns and has been a constant flow of thoughts, input from others, and a wonderful learning experiance. I am most proud of the fact that the women's group is already established, has sustainable qualities and we have only just begun.
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