Today I was invited to tea in the Kuwinda Slum, quite near to Brookhouse school where I am currently visiting. Faith, the librarian and teacher in charge of social services in the high school, took me to show me the container the students had purchased to be made into a children’s library for the community. The decision to purchase a container rather than construct a building is due to the real possibility that the community could one day be evicted. A library in a container is portable, should the need arise.
The container
The Brookhouse students have already accrued a good supply of books from several book drives and this week they ran an interhouse money chain. The funds will go towards shelving and an outside decking with awning to provide an inviting place for children to sit and read.
The community has already set up a roster of Kuwinda youth to open and maintain the library once it is complete, and the Brookhouse boarders plan to make regular visits to run a reading program.
My presence attracted the attention of several small members of the community who proceeded to glue themselves to my ankles in true ankle-biter fashion and follow me inside to Mama Karanja’s house for tea. Mama Karanja seems to be a leader in the community and it is she who gave the small plot of land to house the container. It is a prize spot on the main thoroughfare, which is lined with small shops and stalls. It is actually a road but driving along it is scary due to all the small children who congregate there.
Mama Karanja’s house is also on the main road and has a small shop in the front. We entered the tin roofed, mud floored home through to the rear and into a living room lined with lacy curtains, carpet on the floor and a large lounge setting. There were many loving touches in the home and a television illegally tapped into passing power lines.
The 8 little ones who followed me in sat ever so beautifully still, quietly waiting for sweet milky tea and a slice of bread. I was very amused to reflect on how that very afternoon I had struggled to keep 12 four year olds under control in a music lesson back at Brookhouse school!
It was difficult to tell how old these little ones were and they did not seem to know themselves, even when asked in KiSwahili, but I doubted any were much over 4 and I suspected a couple were as young as 2. Two were twins and Mama Karanja told us their mother is HIV positive and has 2 younger babies she takes with her each day begging in the city. The twins are left to fend for themselves all day long and it was already well past 5 o’clock.
Another little one who I guessed to be about 5 was wearing a not particularly tight burn suit. Mama Karanja explained that she had fallen into a kitchen fire when she was a toddler. All the
The twins
houses have small open fires for cooking on the ground and the smoke just hovers.
I asked Mama Karanja how she had come to settle in Kuwinda. She said her husband came to the area to do gardening work for a mzunga (white man). His boss sold him this piece of land for a cheap price. Later when the mzunga left Kenya to return to his homeland, he gave her husband the adjoining land. Other managers and workers for the mzungu were jealous and challenged his ownership of the land. This trouble prompted her husband to sell off strips of the land to 12 other friends to make it more difficult for the disgruntled former colleagues to challenge him. However they challenged his claim to the neighbouring land in court and Mama Karanja attributes this trouble as the cause of his early death by heart attack, just three years later.
Mama Karanja says she is the rightful owner of one of the 13 strips of Kuwinda and is also the rightful owner of the empty land adjoining Kuwinda. She told us this matter is still being handled in court. Mama Karanja receives rent for homes on her strip of land, as do the other 12 land owners.
It is an interesting story and conflicting of what I read in the Langata City Alliance report which states that Kuwinda slums sits on 5 acres of government land. The report also states the community comprises approximately 7000 people. Most of the homes are made of mud and wattle and some use tin. Very few have concrete floors. I can’t imagine what this place must be like when it rains!
The term “slum” is unpleasant sounding and one I did not hear in my travels in South America. Regardless as to how long a settlement had been established, in Peru and Colombia, people referred to them as “shanty towns” when speaking in English. When speaking in Spanish they often used the term “invasion”, also rather negative sounding, but referring to the initial illegal nature of the settlements. The difference is that in Lima the shanty towns of a similar age to Kuwinda, had a more permanent feel, with many having grown into fairly established communities. (See my article on Comos).
Here in Kuwinda the term “slum” seemed fitting. The place is filthy. Rubbish is thrown anywhere outside the village, and on the main thoroughfare there is one large stinking heap of rubbish where pigs rummage. There are not many latrines and some people are forced to pay to use them. Not surprisingly some open areas are used as toilets. There are several water points, but they seem to be privately owned or managed, so residents have to pay for the water they collect at these points.
When we were about to leave, Mama Karanja’s first born son, (named Karanja), arrived to greet us. He was a very happy young man with a huge grin and he excitedly chatted to us about his 3 week old baby. He said he never dreamt it possible to ever have a wife, let alone a daughter. He invited us to come and visit again and meet his daughter and I promised to bring my camera.
Later in the car, Faith explained to me that Karanja had been completely strung out on drugs. The pastor of a nearby church had managed to find funds to send him to a rehabilitation centre. He was now doing very well, holding down a job and raising a family.
Despite having become a settlement over 30 years ago, Kuwinda is still very basic and plagued with problems of alcoholism, drugs and HIV.
Here is a short glimpse, videoed on my phone.
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