Stories From The Field

Catherine Hanna, Elizabeth Cunningham, and the girls of KGSA get dramatic.

DRAMA FOR LIFE

by Catherine Hanna

This summer I had the opportunity to conduct the fourth program of the Seeds for Hope, “For Life” Arts for Empowerment Series with Kibera Girls Soccer Academy. In the summer of 2008 I taught “Poetry for Life“. In 2009 I taught “Creativity for Life” during the summer and Pete Fedak taught, “Music for Life” in the fall and in the summer of 2010 I taught “Drama for Life”, with Elizabeth Cunningham assistant teaching. Each program that we hold confirms for me the moving power of art to stimulate hope, create a vessel for expression, and to bring people together.

During our time together the girls wove between various creative and social activities including: movement, dramatic/acting technique, writing personal monologues, writing ensemble songs with beats, discussion, graffiti free art and team building games among other things. The product of these artistic and playful activities was an original 20 minute performance, written entirely by the girls. They shared the performance with about 50 community and family members. The final performance was a collage piece combining ensemble work, movement, musical interludes and monologues. I leave you with a section of their work now.

This section was created by: Jackline, Faith, Claire, Beatrice, Lynn, Merab, Dushman, Asha, Joyline and Dorine.  It’s called, “You Might Think”.

Jackline: You might think I am poor

Faith: that I am very lazy

Claire: shy, quiet, and boring

Beatrice: That I am hopeless with no love

Merab: That I am very serious

Lynn: That I am proud and so wicked to talk to people or interact with people….but I am just a simple caring person, the world has ever seen.

Beatrice: I am really someone who never gives up in life. I am never hopeless.

Claire: I am really courageous, loud and focused.

Faith: I am really a hard working girl so that I can lead my family.

Merab: I am really a joke-maker with people and socializing.

Beatrice: You might think that I am joking, but I am speaking from the bottom of my heart, since my heart is the one thing that tells me and directs me to safer places.

Mercy: You might think that I am shy, afraid and silent, but I am really courageous and talkative.

Dushman: You might think that I am an animal or also something to do with war…but I am really polite and very caring.

Asha: You might say that I am sweet and loving, but I’m really a very angry person and rude.

Joyline: You might say that I am not worthy, loser, and imposter, but I am very honest, ready to give and work hard for what is good for me.

Jackline: You might think that I am poor, but I am really rich inside.

Doreen: You might say that I am very poor, because I camp and live in Kibera, but the truth is that I am not poor, because the almighty God has given me all that the very rich have.

How would you define culture? When you think about the culture within which you live, ascribe to and practice perhaps you think about your nationality, your ethnic background or religious affiliations to provide definition. You consider the language you speak, the events and milestones your honor, even the food that you eat – its preparation and composition. All of which speak to culture. A number of anthropologists have argued for a purely cognitive definition of culture. The idea is here that “culture” may be limited to the communicative and meaningful aspects of social life: from language to the meaning carried by symbols, persons, actions and events. This definition I particularly like by Geertz, a renown sociologist who refers to culture as “… a historically transmitted pattern of meanings embodied in symbols, a system of inherited conceptions expressed in symbolic forms by means of which men communicate, perpetuate, and develop their knowledge about and attitudes toward life” … I am going somewhere with this… So, keep this in mind as you keep reading…

For the last 6 years I have been working full-time in the field of public health and development in Africa. Prior to that, I was a student of the same disciplines. I read about methodologies, theories and concepts around improving the quality of life for communities living in poverty. I did research in Kenya and Tanzania on community perceptions on illness and material need. Someone once said that the best teacher in life is experience. I couldn’t agree more. In these past 6 years of my professional work, I have been fortunate enough to have been submerged into the lives and cultures of people whose daily routine is about survival. I say fortunate because, it has been a true blessing that allowed me the change to internalized a true understanding of something I will refer to as a culture of poverty.

I started my career, an idealist. I believed that if people had access to the tools and resources they needed, like some kind of a mathematical equation, you would see families rise above poverty and into a life of self-sufficiency and health. In my idealist mathematical equations I did not think about the decades of investments made into economic development and poverty reduction initiatives, still  leaving countries, like Kenya with populations in excess of 60% living below the poverty line. It wasn’t until I worked here, and began engaging with the plethora of development agencies and organizations working towards the same end, “poverty reduction,” that I saw, development to them as more of a business, one that they need to continue. Where people are “developed” only to a certain point, a certain threshold, where they may be better off than they once were, but is in no way are stable or self-sufficient. They are still in need, waiting for the next donor to inject any amount of funding for a project or initiative to “better” their situation. These were the things I did not consider until I moved beyond wanting to learn and understand systems and approaches, and began paying attention to people.

I still do not know what the most appropriate terminology is for countries where poverty is dominant. I am not comfortable with any of them to be honest. I find them all very patronizing. The “global-south” implies being lower or below. “Developing” implies that these countries are behind, slow or backwards. “Third-world,” implies some sort of triage or hierarchy. These to me all capture a perception that is demeaning and does not represent what their state is or what the issues are.  I could use any of these implied definitions to speak about the U.S. or the U.K.  at so many levels beyond economics even. These countries are not lacking resources or capacity – it is just not distributed evenly across the broader population – for reasons that are not related to being lower, behind or backwards. So to ease my own discomfort, I will not refer to any of these areas of the world by a title at all. But rather the very thing that I have been able to isolate that has been an impediment to growth: A culture and mindset of poverty, which you will find in every corner of this globe, (which is one world anyway).

A culture of poverty is a mindset, attitude, and application of behaviors that exist within individuals, families, communities and even national structures/institutions which is in persistent need and waiting. It transfers through generations. It is one that is convinced that change can only come from the outside, rather than within the self. It is a belief system that self-driven growth and change is limited, and freedom from need is dependent on others to achieve. It is lowered expectations on one’s potential, and living under layers of excuses to account for stunted achievements. “I have no one to sponsor me…I have no one to show me…. I have no one to give me… You know, they are corrupt and won’t hire me…”

I am not sure the root of this culture but I can only imagine it is the effect of decades of poorly approached “development work” where money is poured into communities skewing markets to be dependent on external resources and leadership, and no thought of sustainability built in. Projects set up by NGO’s that were never intended to get people out of poverty, but only to get people to a point still kept them needy enough that a proposals for more money could be developed. I suspect it is related to, governmental leadership that for decades also has mismanaged national resources requiring multi-national support to address funding gaps ensuring basic national health services are available, roads are maintained and other infrastructure in place.  And beyond that, I suspect really it is partly the destructive legacy of colonialism – a system which distorted every level of social function, and intended to keep countries subservient. Truth is there are a lot of reasons why any one person or group of people could adopt this culture and have it so normalized in day to day life, that survival in itself becomes enough. But, no matter its precise source, the only way to really empower communities to rise up from impoverished conditions, is one that breaks through this cultural barrier.

Working with youth becomes particularly exiting when you realize that addressing this pervasive culture is the key to unlock an individual’s potential, because youth are not yet set in their ways. They have that idealism, I relate to so strongly, that makes anything possible. Its not about an investment of external resources. It is about reinforcing a belief in someone’s potential. Its about letting them know their dreams are not as far-fetched as their present circumstances may make them seem. It is motivating them to take ownership on their future – to know that their journey ahead is determined by how much they allow themselves to strive for, work towards, fight for even and have faith in. Each one of us, is the greatest limitation that we have in this life. And for every person that SFH works with, we work against this culture of poverty and watch a transformation occur. It is not instant, and often comes with some struggle, stumbles but ultimately there is a rising up in self-assurance, and self-belief. It has been amazing to be able to understand that this slight difference in approach makes the fruits of our labor so much more meaningful and effective than simply sending one to school or setting up a business. It means a life is changed. Success is not a gamble, because it is now within the reach of every person who desires it, and is in their hands. We have seen our students accept responsibility for what they do with the opportunities they have given, and thrive to establish careers they are passionate about. They strategize on how to make their visions reality without waiting for someone to show them or give them a lead on how. Beyond this they also believe that they need to pass on this mentality- and mentor, even some sponsor, other youth in their lives or with SFH. If that is not true growth, true empowerment, true self-development true freedom from a life of lowered expectations and need– then I don’t know what is! This is the difference between SFH and other programs… and it’s a difference that is as stark as day or night.

Its not often than SFH is sought out by a group. We are a young organization and have been committed to small scale,but quality work. Well, word spread. And you can only imagine our surprise when we were sought out by a group of community members who have been struggling to support over 100 AIDS orphans by themselves, rather then seeking out any number of organizations working in this country! This group, comprised of about 50 caregivers, extended family members of these children (mainly grandparents) and a couple who has been organizing their efforts - they have been meeting regularly, pooling together their limited resources and their immeasurable passion to ensure that these children will not be forgotten or neglected.

Grace and I went to visit the group in early April to to an assessment of the group’s needs, the community context and to have an open discussion with them as a whole, as to what we can do to further their vision for sustainable, independent and community driven change that will provide a more stable support network for these kids. We drove from Nairobi to Machakos and were picked up by the group founder, a priest named Fr. Joseph. HE drove us down very bumpy broken dirt roads, greeting everyone we met along the way until we reached the meeting area. We were greeted by his wife, the teacher and facilitator for all the kids group counseling and activities, and were taken into a simple hall where the caregivers sat waiting for us.

I looked around the room and saw grandmothers, grandfathers, aunts and uncles. Men and women who have lost their loved ones to an illness so stigmatized in this region that they cannot even openly discuss its impact on their lives. We began to get to know one another and explore their day to day challenges, dreams and vision for their group. And in all my travels around Africa working with other organizations and running development programs I have never met a group like this. They were very candid about their poverty and their limitations due to age, but they were not looking for someone to support them. They were not asking for money or sponsorship, which is the expected chain of discussion, if you have been in this field you can understand. No. They wanted to be heard. And we listed. One grandmother, caring for 18 orphans, the grandchildren of 4 of her own children who have all died, as well their spouses. Another caring for 6, 3 her own, 3 her dead sister’s with no one else to care for them. The numbers added up more and more the ages ranged infancy to late adolescence. They told us about thier household’s, the land they cultivate and rely upon. The dangers of drought for their livelihood. They told us about their small scale businesses, their trades and skills: tailors, rope-weavers, shoe-makers, vegetable sellers - and how at such a small and limited scale they committed as a group to pool together these skills and resources for the greater good of the group. They have survived to date on small scale revolving fund activities and have never thought for a minute that retirement, age or drought would be a barrier for them to earn an income to support the children they all see as theirs - all 100 of them!

Our meeting continued for a number of hours, and then we discussed on a much more intimate level with their leadership what is their vision for development. Its amazing how in a country like Kenya, SATURATED TO THE BRIM with development workers, relief agency, receiving billions and billions in multi-lateral funding, there is not a single project, program or group working in Ukambani, where these families reside. And still they came to us. Knowing that we are partners. We support home-grown, grass-root change and development that is owned by the people who seek to grow. They came to us, knowing that we would kick-start a process that would continue and multiply and we are glad to embark on the journey.

SFH has agreed, through operation supply hope to support the capacity development of this community group to establish itself and better fulfill their own mission. We will provide technical support to their child-counseling efforts, HIV education and prevention work and primarily, to establish a larger scale income generating project that is communally managed and owned by the caregivers. Their proposal to date: Chicken farming. the JSP component of SFH will also work to ensure that the children will be in school, for those whose caregivers cannot manage to support all, and we will ensure that they have what they need to be in school: uniforms, shoes, stationary items etc.

This is just the start but we are hopeful and excited to partner with such a driven, passionate, hardworking and hopeful community. We launched our activities in April by funding their kids-day where all students received a school kit equipped with writing books,mathematics kits and writing utensils. We furnished this kids club with arts and crafts, balls and other sports equipments and the curriculum to ensure that well rounded psychosocial support will be provided through recreation, creative expression, life skills education and counseling. Children affected by HIV/AIDS are often subjected to trauma as a result of lost parents, being suffled around from house to house and being stigmatized by the community as being related to an illness seen as a curse. These kids clubs will be a safe space for them to grow, thrive and feel self-assured and accepted. SFH funds also covered medical treatment for the most ill and a meal for all who attended.

To the people of Ukambani who are committed to remembering the forgotten children… We stand beside and are inspired by your hope.

Would you like to know the real impact of an SFH Sponsorship? Read these stories of some of our graduates and understand just how powerful the transformation can be! *Names have been changed to protect the  privacy of our beneficiaries

When we first met Michael, he was living on the street at the age of 17. His mother, an alcoholic without a job, could not support or provide the care he needed. Michael went to the streets to  hustle day-to-day in hopes of getting some money he could bring home to help his mother from the young age of seven years. He shared with us his daily struggle: where he would find food, the odd jobs he would do for pennies a day and in the end sleep under a bush to hide from the harsh weather, and the police. He lived in fear on the streets but felt no other alternative was at his reach, until SFH offered him one. “I want to go back to school,” Michael told us. Unafraid to be a 17-year-old in the fifth grade, and committed to finish at any cost, SFH enrolled him at the only boarding school that would take in someone with a difficult background like his.

He excelled year after year surprising his teachers and fellow classmates as being among the most disciplined and promising! We are proud to say that Michael graduated from primary school this year and scored a remarkable high of 370 on his primary school exams (out of 500) and is awaiting letters inviting him to High School. Michael’s dream? To be a doctor and a footballer. We believe he can do it, because we have seen him make it to the top against all odds! SFH will see him through the rest of his academic career.

Joanne’s family has been through some very difficult times. It felt like her family had it all until her mother passed away and her father lost his job. Her and her 2 brothers moved with their father to one of the slums in Nairobi called
Kawangware. It was their only option to survive. Joanne, the eldest and now the breadwinner, was 16-years-old when SFH first met her. She was desperate to find work so she could provide for her family. She had taken up odd jobs to earn the minimum they needed to pay rent and eat, ranging washing clothes to cleaning houses. Joanne finished high school and wanted to continue her studies so she could get a more stable job in office administration. Through the support of our contributors, SFH enrolled Joanne in a 2 year certificate program in Management with a specialization in Human  Resources. She was among the top of her class with almost straight A’s every term! After finishing her course she was able to secure volunteer positions that  supported her family. Today Joanne is now working  as an administrative assistant with one of the NGOs that works to build the capacity of faith based organizations to mitigate HIV/AIDS!

John grew up in perhaps the roughest side of the city of Nairobi: Mathare North slums of Eastlands. The eldest boy in his family of six, John felt the pressure take care of his family. An absent father and mother battling addiction left him as the primary provider for the family. He was able to attend high school through the support of his church. He worked and saved money during school holiday’s in an effort to help his siblings and make sure his family had food on the table. After graduation, he  wasn’t able to find any additional support to pursue formal employment. He secured a  volunteer position at a hospital which opened a world of medical service that triggered a passion within him. In 2005 SFH stepped in and sponsored his education to become a pharmacy assistant at the diploma level. He passed well and  immediately secured a job. Now John is working with an international NGO in a HIV program serving unreached communities Kenya. He is doing well planning for a  future degree in psychology which he is saving money for and self-funding. He also continues to support his family, mainly by ensuring his small brothers too have access to an education.

One graduate shares his story with you in his own words:

“I am a 24 years old man from the slums of Kibera. I wish to thank SFH for the way they transformed my life. I knew about SFH when I met the director Nadia Kist who I gave my life history. At the age of 22 I was volunteering at a hospital and had no hopes of anything better since I did not have any qualifications apart from a high school diploma.

I was picked by SFH when I could not raise college fees, rent or even money for food. Many are nights when I slept hungry. SFH sponsored me to do a course in
Community Health and also provided me with transport to school since I could not even raise it. After completing this course I was able to secure a job at the same hospital as a nurse aide and earn a salary.

Now am able to pay rent in a better house, pay school fees for my brother, buy drugs for my ailing dad and even sponsor my nephew who’s an orphan. My life used to be that of depending on others and begging for help all the time, actually I didn’t have hope in life after completing secondary school because I lost my mum in 1991 then my dad who lives in the rural area could not afford to educate me more than high school. Anytime I visited extended family members, they treated me so bad because they thought I was going to beg! Now I visit them with confidence and even buy sugar for them as it’s the tradition.

I thank SFH for the great work they are doing to us who once felt hopeless.”

The girls wrote their first song today all together. I could not be more proud.

Three days ago I started teaching the girls in Kibera music.

On the first day, I think I talked too much and too fast. Lectures were hard to sit through at 14 years old, I remember. I asked for questions and answered as many as I could. We established what the girls wanted to learn; seven things that I hoped we’d make it through. We did an ice-breaking game, a little singing, theirs and mine, and that was pretty much it. I have never taught a class.

Day two, I chose to try two selections from our task list: to sing better, to learn songwriting. They learned to stand up straight, use their belly, their lungs to drive their volume. They comply with giggles and full-spirited attempts. We jam out on Paper Airplanes, a song of mine. They already know the chorus and join in whenever I get to it. After that, I analyzed some elements of songwriting, but I knew it was too much talk, not enough action. Its one thing to have someone say songwriting is easy when you try, but its another to do it. That problem made me think a lot.

So I brainstorm with Paul that evening and he’s totally cool with my idea to compose a song as a group. Engaging the students is what is most critical. My plan entails four groups of students, three to each compose a verse, one to compose a melody which I will assist with on guitar. 

Luckily, today, day three, when my plan was to become real, Junae and Kate, Kenyan friends that wanted to see the class, came along. With three assistant teachers, the writing groups got some critical support while trying to write in English. (The question of English vs. Swahili came up, but even when I said it was their choice, they chose English.) The girls suggested many topics (exams, changing lives, poverty), but settled on one with unanimity: Love. We broke it down into three verses, with all the verses telling part of the story. The beginning verse would entail the start of love and admiration, the middle verse with the end of infatuation and the start of a serious relationship, and the end verse with marriage and happiness. The conclusion to the question “major or minor? happy or sad?” was “MAJOR!” Because of course, when you are talking about marriage, why wouldn’t you be happy? And with that, our goals were set.

Although I know that every group made an incredible effort, Junae, Kate and Paul walking the girls through a crash course in lyric composition, I feel the most amazing part of this story came from my group. Our method was somewhat freestyle and it was the fastest I’ve ever successfully written parts to any song with others. As the other three groups met and tried to write 4 lines each, hopefully with my suggested rhyme scheme A B A B, I sat down with my group, the largest, and realized that asking someone to sing/invent a line in front of the sub-group may not fly. Shyness. To remedy that, I chose a couple of chords. I asked one girl beside me to try singing a line and she did, albeit softly. We did a duet to show what we just wrote. I asked the other girl on the other side of me to sing another line and she did, also softly. I had her friend help out so the two would allow the group to hear what was just made. The base of our chorus was built on two lines of volunteered notes. Figuring that complex lyrics probably won’t help here, I asked for some lines about love and what was offered up was the line “I love you… forever”. Oh, they loved it! They repeated it about six times as they mulled it over and reveled in their notes. Chorus is done! Next came the verse. I chose the girl on my left to pick another girl to switch seats so that I could have another line of melody composed with one ear to my guitar and the other to the bashful voice of the next chosen composer. I played a chord and off she went. The ending was minor, but that was ok. We had another line of melody to go. We could still resolve it major and it could work with the chorus. So I asked this girl to select another girl to switch seats and finish off the verse. Almost the exact same result, and still minor resolution. Knowing that we needed to get back to the chorus, I helped to change the last couple of notes to a major chord ending. It could work!

I took to the front of the room, asked for the lyrics that were still being finished and read them aloud. Pretty good! Did they all rhyme? No. Did the rhyming lines go A B A B? No. Does it matter? No! The girls loved them! So I asked my group of singers to stand up and present our chorus and verse melodies. I asked for a leader and Claire volunteered to be the director. I gave her some quick pointers and we got singing. By the end, everyone joined in with the chorus. This was working!

At this point, we were running out of time. Paul and I had a critical engagement in another part of town, but luckily we had done all that composing in about 10 minutes. With only 10 minutes to go, I decided that I’d have to put the lyrics into our melody by myself. But I wasn’t doing it without help. So I had the girls sit and follow along on the choruses. I mashed out the words, some a little long, but managed to put the whole thing together, rhyming or not. The words ran through the melodies they gave me and each verse was followed by a chorus of twenty sopranos in unison. Thirty minutes was all it took to get the Kibera Girls Soccer Academy to write its first love song.

The title: “Love You Forever”.

My story is just developing, but it started about 3 months ago when I told my good friend Paul I wanted to join him in Nairobi. What would I do there? Share my love of music with people. Hopefully, my idealized thought went, my creative side would help bring people together, or at least teach someone something. Maybe that would mean they would teach me their music, maybe I would teach them mine. Or maybe it would go beyond music and somehow the intersection of my path and theirs would produce something completely unexpected. Either way, I’d wait for it to unfold.

Now here I am, on my second full day in Nairobi, a New York man singing accapella in front of classes of girls at the Kibera Girls Soccer Academy, and I am loving it. I followed friends through the slum alleys to get there and kept my head down to watch for uneven ground. But when I picked it up, every scene was different and nothing like I’ve ever been to. Yes, there are rough places in NY, but this is not a world of boarded up rowhouses and streetlamps. This is plastic bag and dried mud footpaths winding behind dirt and branch houses, where rusted, corrugated steel forms fences and roofs, and electricity is not lighting the way home. This is not thug life, this is life as many live it, for better or for worse. I do not know their stories, but I can see their situation. My breath stops as the wind dies and the open sewers emit.

At the school, I saw the start of my project, the faces that I would work with for the next couple of weeks. They sang for me and I loved it, the words unintelligible to me but the melody soothing. I sang them part of my song and they were bashful, shy, hiding their faces but clapping hard when I was done. These are 14 year old girls acting like 14 year old girls. They were as nervous as I!

The principle, Teka, told me how things are run, who does what, how students arrive and leave, what obstacles they faced. I asked if he ever had to punish anyone, give detention. He said no, because everyone wants to be there; it is not mandatory. From 7am to 6pm, they work. They choose to try and do their best. Teka asked if we could start tomorrow. We said yes.

My neurotic fear of food poisoning has lessened in the last few days, as I’ve been here in Bagamoyo, TZ. A year ago, I was horizontal for 3 days with a nice case of Typhoid Fever, and Amoebiasis. So far, my system feels ok… $1.00 for a plate of beans, beef potato stew in red sauce, and coconut flavored rice, ain’t bad. But you get much more than what you’ve paid for at Baga Point, an outdoor / indoor eatery where the staff will join you for some pleasantries or even to bum a smoke. It was a lovely night, that was a bit stressed from counting every last tanzanian shilling I had, since the exchange of money was not as easy as I would have thought, however, after the food came, the worries lessened, and as the stories were told, my own problems seemed somewhat less of a problem.

I managed to find a routine here in Bagamoyo, each day starting with an early half hour swim in the Indian ocean, along with the Dows (fishing boats), crabs, jellyfish, seaweed, and the occasional great white…. followed by some tea @ Baga point, then some food and getting ready for my day.

Fresh eggs, fresh everything… “organic’ as we call it. Much less pricey.

Afternoon activities: drumming & reading

What brought me to Bagamoyo? Good question, glad you asked.

Many months ago, a colleague of mine said “Hey Paul, since you go to Africa, you should talk to my friend, he is involved there, too”. I was then introduced to the Josef and Anne Kottler, a couple from Massachusetts, whose daughter volunteers at an orphanage / youth center in Bagamoyo called IMUMA, and they themselves have been there, and have since been committed to supporting the work that’s being done there.

Little did I know that meeting the Kottlers would result in me being here, under the stars, in a small guest house where the power is in and out, and relishing the vibrance of the surrounding community, their songs, stories, faces, and wisdom.

Because Seeds For Hope partners with African-run development organizations, IMUMA’s story seemed very much in line with our own mission statement, so I had to check it out for myself.

Day 2 of my trip brought me from Dar Es Salaam to Bagamoyo. I’m surprised I’d never heard of Bagamoyo before this, being that it has such historical significance in Africa’s past. Bagamoyo (literally “Bwaga Moyo”, or “Lay down your heart”) was called this, because Africans would have to leave their heart there, as they would never see their homeland again, for you see, Bagamoyo was the first and also one of the key ports in the East African slave trade.

The remnants of the old missions, and european influence are very much hidden, but there is a section of town, where the ruins of colonial bagamoyo remain, which I did not see until my last day there. Bagamoyo town is developing, I only noticed one or two paved roads, where the mode of transport is on foot, by bike, motorcycle, and the occasional car. I felt completely off the grid, and I could not have been happier.

It’s the kind of town where you can walk around, and have a conversation with practically anyone, of course people looked at me like “who the hell is this guy?”, not many non-tanzanians in bagamoyo, but i did my best to hold my own. Greeting the elders, laughing with kids, giving the tough nod to the tough guys, you know… as I would in manhattan. I also learned that while language was a huge barrier, and my swahili, as good enough as it is for Nairobi, was not good enough for Bagamoyo it helped me at least break the ice… and besides language, humor goes a long way. A smile, and a clever remark, translates well into any language.

But for real, I became THAT guy, who, when I don’t know how to respond, i just responded with “COOL”

luckily there are like 10 different ways to say “cool” in Swahili:

Safi
Poa
Mzuri
Shwari
Fiti
Freshi
Salama
Simbaya

add the word “Kabisa” at the end of any of these, and you have even MORE permutations.

I’ve had 5 minute conversations with people where we just go back and forth asking each other “how are you” in the zillion different ways.. as if we were going through the phrasebook line by line. And this happened with more than one person

Habari? Mzuri
Mambo? Poa
Uko freshi? Kabisa
Habari ya asubuhi? Mzuri

repeat for 5 minutes…

I wonder if this is acceptable for foreigners, cuz if someone did that to me in the states I’d probably be like “enough.”

But, back to IMUMA.

IMUMA, is the orphanage / youth center I became acuqainted with. I met Sharrif as soon as I arrived at the Moyo Mmoja guest house in Bagamoyo. Sharrif is the founder and director of IMUMA, and has dedicated his time and his life to serving the underserved youth in his community.

IMUMA is the combination of 3 swahili words: Imani (faith), Upendo (love) and Matumaini (hope). The mission of IMUMA is to help children (ages 3-16), who have either been orphaned, abused, neglected, or have some situation that puts them at a disadvantage in regards to their peers. Their goal is to improve the lives of the children of Bagamoyo town, and to give them a chance at fulfilling the dreams of their future. They do this by creating a safe haven for the young people who are not in school during the day, where they are engaged in many activities from reading, writing, dancing, drumming, and craft making. IMUMA also offers a pre-school, and has provided a way for 33 children to attend primary school (while primary school is free, miscellaneous fees will determine who will be able to attend primary school, or not). In addition, 6 of IMUMA’s students are on the verge of beginning secondary school.

The stories of these kids were heartbreaking (this is what you expected?), but its different when there is a face, and voice, to a story, it is real… it is us.

When I arrived at the IMUMA compound in the small neighborhood of Nia Njema, I knew something special was happening here. The place was just alive with kids, doing all sorts of activities, and plenty of community members and volunteers around, either supervising, or teaching, or feeding the kids.

During this time Sharrif and I spoke about many things, and we got to know each other. I was definitely glad to have met him, and his drive, sincerity and leadership was a huge inspiration for me. He introduced me also to his wife and his two beautiful children.

I also met a fellow musician at IMUMA named Major Drummer (Major D), a teacher of the arts who has greatly helped the children there, and another volunteer named Hedi, who was on holiday from Japan.

These guys were practicing an East African traditional song and dance, with the kids (VIDEO TO COME!)

Under a mango tree, Major Drummer (Major D), Hediko, and I met to solve the worlds problems. I have found real kinship with these guys and glad our paths have crossed. MD has given me a few things to think about:

1. The mountain never moves, it is people who are moving, eventually, if you have lost someone, you will find them again.

2.The big fish eat the small fish (but this, I already knew)

3. At the end of the day… things will work itself out

There is a treasure of East African culture that you can find in a small town like this: the stories, the songs, the dances, and the wisdom from elders. Life in a town or village is much slower and more predictable than highways we drive on, but the relationships, and occasional power outage, keeps things interesting.

I’ve travelled many places, and I believe there’s nothing new under the sun.

I feel my time here was way too short, and I wished I had more time to invest, but I feel I will return for sure. Bagamoyo will find me again.

To learn more about IMUMA, you can visit these sites:

IMUMA

Friends of IMUMA

Imani upendo na matumaini (IMUMA) | Facebook

This summer I had the opportunity once again to join Kibera Girls Soccer Academy in Kibera, Kenya, as a Seeds for Hope Teaching Artist volunteer. I created and implemented a follow-up program to the program I taught last year, “Poetry for Life”. This year we called the program, “Creativity for Life”. “Creativity for life” was an expansion of the concepts that we started in “Poetry for Life”. While it kept a similar lay out—dialogue, community-building games, drama, writing, and free-style art-making, this year the girls were ready to take the next step. I found them generally to be bolder in their verbal expressions, more comfortable in using art as a means of expression, and over all enthusiastic to move forward with themes and art forms. Last year we used poetry as a means for the girls to respond to the December 07 to January 08 violence in Kenya, and to begin articulating images of their lives primary through writing. This year, we worked on poetry, but we shifted our focus to the use of art to empower us in general, then focused more on the use of drama to explore issues and share stories.

Certainly the girls are still grappling with the effects of violence in Kibera in general, but I found them eagerly initiating detailed discussions about a variety of issues that they deal with. While I facilitated general discussions and activities around the program themes of Creativity, leadership, and empowerment, they brought out detailed discussions through their processes in art-making and dialogue. They brought up themes like: giving back to their families, overcoming female genital mutilation, treating the environment responsibly, the pros and cons of having money. The girls continue to be enthusiastc about education and hopeful for their futures. They discussed with confidence and were endlessly willing to take risks. They were participating with such commitment that they were able to create a 20 minute performance sharing several skits, songs, and poems with just the last 1 ½ days of the program to do so. We shared the performance with the teachers of KGSA, other Seeds for Hope Volunteers, as well as volunteers from other organizations.

I certainly wouldn’t say that we or anyone from outside that school necessarily has something to do with the charisma and strength that these girls possess. These girls have become so capable because of their personal commitment to push toward their goals regardless of violence, poverty or losses. I will say however, that I know that they were proud to have a new witness to who they were and to have the chance to express themselves together in new and different ways.

Catherine Hanna
Teaching Artist and SFH Volunteer

In November 2007, I made my way back to the land that some have described to me as my spiritual home… the land of Kenya, to visit my friends and family there, and to do some work with SFH. There was something different in the air, different than when I’d last been there just a few months earlier. There was a charge, like when you rub your feet against a wool carpet, building and building, till you’re afraid to touch anything metal, because you know it’s going to sting….

Walking through Kibera, I found myself at an ODM rally, where emotions were high, the party leaders had the crowd chanting the various campaign slogans till the collective voice became a deafening roar. I walked away and continued my journey to the Kibera Girls Soccer Academy. That day I’d met up with the girls and let them know that the books for Form 3 were on their way. I also met up with another friend (of a friend), who at that moment instantly became my friend. He gave me the tour of his development organization, and the work he’d been doing in Kibera… true grassroots, true empowerment, teaching the community to build itself.

He had youth off the streets involved in the arts, he had single mothers running their own businesses and becoming self-sustaining. All over Kibera, that day, were the signs of development, and the hope of future prosperity. Change was happening because of love, and because of the efforts and togetherness of the common man, using the resources they had, they were able to create, and transform.

That was the last time I was to see Kibera in the state, probably for a long, long time. Today, Kibera is burning, and many of its residents have fled. Overrun by gangs and fear… My friend from the development organization, has fled, his home and belongings burned to the ground, and all his work, work for the love of Kibera and its people, now destroyed because of politicing and ethnic hatred. And that’s what kills me, all the rioting, all the protesting and violence and murder, is supposedly about bringing back justice and equality to Kenya, looking to leaders to save them, when I feel the people have lost sight, and have been manipulated by these leaders, because change will only take place when the people change their communities. So many years of progress have been destroyed in a matter of days, by ethnic violence.

250,000 at least have been displaced around the country. Watching the news, and seeing the places I’ve worked in Kibera, covered in ash, and black smoke, leaves me heartbroken. That is the true injustice, not about voter rigging, or the right of one party to be in power over another, but the dividing of a once peaceful nation, that the most fragile of communities has now a long way to go to regain the momentum it once had, that those who have truly given their lives to bring something significant to their community, now have nothing to show for it.

Kibera, my heart is with you today, and I know you will recover, but the choice is yours.

Paul Kist
SFH Board Member

I was raised up speaking Kiswahili (mostly Sheng) and Dholuo. So English pretty much came second after Kiswahili (”Swa” as it known here). My current residence is Wanyee, this is a small estate off Ngong Road in the city of Nairobi. Before i moved to Wanyee. I lived in Mathare North (”Mnet”, as it popularly known). I lived in Mnet almost my entire life. My family, friends, enemies, everyone that I know are there. I went to school there. Basically, Mnet represents my whole life.

I was brought up in a 4-walled room (single room) along with my 5 brothers and I can tell you that this was very comfortable for me; I had known no other house. I was fortunate enough to go to school as my father valued education but I did not at that time. I never saw the importance (especially in the primary level) but I managed to finish. My father struggled to make ends meet and despite that he managed to take all of us to school, up to a certain level, of course.

When i cleared high school i really had bad grades.i could not go to college(i never attained a college grade) and on top of that my father had no money to take me to another college.i wanted to repeat high school but could not because of financial constraints. I stayed out for one year doing church service.It is in this service that I met group of Americans who were visiting Nairobi for the first time. I had never in my life had Americans friends and these were my first real American friends. They showed so much love and care that I had never witnessed in my life before even in my family. They basically turned my life around and taught me so many things in the process.

Education here (Kenya) is not so important to many, save for the rich. A big percentage of the population drop of out school for one reason or the other. One would tell you “Why should I go to school and eat nothing at night”? KWANINI (Why? in Swa). And you stand there helpless with nothing to do. Many who offer to help children to go to school do it with so many conditions, and this discourages so many people and hence youth at a very young age find themselves in drugs and other abuses.

Seeds For Hope has stepped in at the right time, it’s never too late. Very young children as young as 10yrs get pregnant even with the free primary education and have given up on life at that young age. Because most do not know the importance of education of because they are simply too poor to afford the basic needs and hence the saying “I’d rather look for food than waste my time going to school”

Many of us who are encouraged everyday by Seeds For Hope staff are thankful but there are still so many more out here that need help. Everyday they search for answers that they don’t find. And I believe that everyone who is taking action out there is helping in little way possible to bring smiles and confidence to the youth here in Africa.

Junae Ndolo, a volunteer with Seeds For Hope, is a web applications developer and aspiring entrepreneur in Nairobi, Kenya working for one of the prominent HIV/AIDS clinics in the country.