The Story of Kibera, and the Need for Global Community

“We can end poverty if we start by looking at all human beings as part of a single global community that recognizes that everyone deserves a chance to build a life worth living.”

- Jaqueline Novogratz

I have spent the mornings of the past two days visiting the Kibera Slum in Nairobi, the second largest slum in Africa. I think this is probably one of the most difficult experiences to relate to others that I have ever experienced. I don’t want to trivialize the experience and dehumanize the people of the slum by showing pictures and saying things like “look how poor these people are, could you imagine living there?” But at the same time, it’s important to tell the story of Kibera and so that people can begin to understand the reality of life in the slum and can expand their worldview to include the realities of such places. Personally, I am still sifting through the conversations that I had and what I experienced, trying to make sense out of the mixture of life and chaos that is Kibera. The truth is that whatever I write in this blog it will be an incomplete description of life in Kibera. The reality of Kibera must be felt and experienced, and for much longer than the two mornings that I have spent in the slum. So I'm telling you what I've seen and thought with the hope that you will read more, or simply think about the problems of the desperate poor around the world.



The view at one of the entraces to the Kibera Slum in Nairobi, Kenya



To fully tell the story of Kibera, I will break my experience into two parts. The first part, which I write about today, is an introduction to Kibera and an overview of my first day in Kibera. In the second part, I will relate the stories of my second day in Kibera, and reflect on what Kibera means for the global community.

What is Kibera?

The simplest answer is a large slum on the outskirt of Nairobi where poor laborers and immigrants live and work in terrible conditions. Kibera is also the second largest slum in Africa, with a population estimated at over 1 million people. It's also the size of Central Park (2.5 square miles). Kibera is located in a small valley, and the geography of the valley forms the only sewage system of Kibera. The waste and excrement runs down the valley’s slopes and collects in a small stream at the bottom of the valley. Therefore, the nicer homes are further up the hillside, and the worst areas are those in close proximity to this stream. The ground in Kibera is all dirt road and alleys littered with various trash and debris.



This stream runs along the middle point of the valley, collecting drainage from the hillsides.



But keep in mind that things can never be defined in such a simple way. Kibera is lot of things. The desperate poor live in Kibera, but so do individuals who have steady jobs and live there to keep living costs low so they have money to send their children to school. Kibera has many, many problems, but it also has a strong community of normal people just trying to get by. I will try not to make the mistake of relating Kibera only as a dirty, smelly place devoid of life and hope, because that is simply not true. Kibera has a thriving community of human beings that are trapped in a setting of poverty and terrible sanitation.

As I’ve noticed so far here Nairobi, the contrast between rich and poor is extreme. Kibera is not different. The small valley in which Kibera is located is bordered by relatively affluent communities. The road to Kibera is well-paved until it abruptly ends in a treacherous dirt road with potholes and dirt mounds that a driver must navigate. On the far side of Kibera, a single set of railroad tracks separates the shanties of Kibera with middle class gated homes and a thriving market area. Again, I am unsure how these things can exists in such close proximity. I was told that many of the residents in these middle class areas employ people from Kibera in their houses, and they enjoy living next to Kibera because it is such an ample source of cheap labor. To an outsider like me, this seems ridiculous. How could you live in such an area and not take action to help the people living in extreme poverty right next to your house? I’m sure there are some good-willed individuals, but for the most part it seems that the well-off in the area use the people of Kibera to further enrich themselves, worsening the situation.



An example of the contrast between rich and poor, this market stand in Kibera sells a variety of consumer electronics.



Day 1: Beacon of Hope? A Holy Cross Primary School in Kibera

On Monday, I accompanied a Holy Cross Seminarian, Constantine, and visited the St. Monica Primary School in Kibera. The St. Monica primary school is a three room schoolhouse for students of age 2-10. It was built with funds from the Holy Cross and the support of local residents. Currently, it is being expanded to add a kitchen, a living space for a school administrator, and an office for the three volunteer teachers. I still don’t know how I feel about the time I spent visiting the school. Relative to the squalor and poverty of Kibera, the school was doing its best to provide services to the youth of Kibera. Yet, it didn’t seem like a lot of productive learning was happening because the classrooms were overcrowded and not well organized. Still, any break from the reality of Kibera and the chance to learn seemed invaluable to these children.



Built with funds from Kibera Community and the Holy Cross, this school teaches students ages 2-10

 In each classroom, a group of students did a memorized routine in English to welcome me and tout the benefits of the education that they were receiving. The songs became more elaborate as the age of the students increased, as each classroom had a different age and grade. Each welcoming song ended with a repeated chant of “You are the best!” while pointing at me. I smiled throughout and thanked the students for the welcome, but I below the surface I was uncomfortable during the display. It was obvious that these students had been taught this song for the purpose of displaying the quality of education at the school and performing for visitors. It was also clear that they had done this routine before, and did not necessarily enjoy having to give the performance. I felt ashamed that I was the source of what I saw as a dehumanizing performance to please endear guests toward the school. I did not want to see a performance about education, I wanted to see students studying and learning. But, at the same time, it is a small miracle that such a school exists, and I should be happy that students are attending classes and learning. But should we settle for that reality? Isn’t accepting that this is as good as education can be in a slum such as Kibera just going to reinforce the reality and limit positive changes that could occur at the school? Months or maybe years, not 1 hour (the amount of time that I spent at the school) are needed to answer such a question. All in all, I was happy to see the Holy Cross and the people of Kibera working together to change what they could in Kibera.

Margaret’s Story

At the school I was introduced to Margaret, a 60 year old Kenyan woman who exuded confidence, grandmotherly love, and experience. Margaret was the administrator of St. Monica’s primary school and a founder of a Catholic Women’s group in Kibera. After visiting the school, I walked with Margaret down the slope of the valley to her home. Turning off the main path, we walked down a narrow muddy alley to reach the entrance to her home. While the home’s roof was made of various sheets of tin, and the walls of dirt and stone, the inside of the house was surprisingly neat and well kept. It was quite the surprise to walk from narrow, muddy, garbage lined streets with stray goats and dogs roaming the area to a quaint and peaceful living room. In the house’s single room sat three couches, each well-used but clean and adorned with knitted doilies. The house also had a small TV, and a bedroom separated from the rest of the room by a curtain hanging from the ceiling. Margaret explained that she shared the house with six other members of her family.



A line of houses in Kibera. The rough exterior usually hides a relatively clean and neat interior.

 As was sat, Margaret related the story of her recent actions as a community leader in Kibera. She has founded a Catholic Women’s group for Catholic women in the community who were affected by HIV and AIDS. The women’s group consisted of 15 women who worked together to provide opportunities for each other and the community. A very successful program that came of out the Catholic women’s group was a bead making business. With an initial investment of 5000 schillings, ($60), the women were able to purchase raw materials needed for making bead necklaces and bracelets. They then made a variety of necklaces to sell to tourists and others in the urban areas of Nairobi. This business venture was amazingly successful, and over time, with the help of a the Holy Cross they were able to build the first St. Monica’s primary school, which could double as a place for the women to meet in the evening. This cost about 300,000 shillings, or $3500 for the three room building. Over time, the commitment of running both the school and the Women’s group became too much for Margaret. After much prayer, she decided to work primarily on the school, and appointed another leader for the women’s group. Soon after, the group collapsed amid corruption and mismanagement. The women still meet weekly, but the Women’s Association is only a shadow of its former self. One of my questions to Margaret was “How do you find more people like you, who can successfully lead the community and make change happen in Kibera?” Obviously, it was not a question with an easy answer. The problem in Kibera seems to be that change agents such as Margaret are not common enough to encourage dramatic change throughout the slum.

Leaving Kibera, my mind was clouded with the experiences of the past few hours. I was frustrated, inspired, confused, and left stunned by the time spent in Kibera. It was, and still is, a lot of information to process at one time. The crushing weight of the reality that is Kibera ruled my thoughts for the rest of the day, and will continue to influence my decisions for the rest of my life. And the first day was by far the easier of the two…

I'll write again soon about my second day in Kibera, and reflections the overall experience,

Kurt