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Published: June 23rd 2010
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Homeless: dispossessed: physically or spiritually homeless or deprived of security Talk about a flip side to every coin!
After our experience at TEMAK, our groups spent the next few days settling into Kisumu and the Kenyan culture. My vollies and I had an awesome day of team building activities, I sent them on an ‘amazing race’ style scramble across the city, and we got to know each other better over some delicious meals. And just when everyone was starting to settle in and adjust to a new life, we hit them with another WAMMY. Fran and I decided a visit to an organisation called HOVIC (hope for Victorian children) would be good for our groups to understand the problem of street children in Kisumu. Little did I know however, the effect it was going to have on myself.
I felt overwhelmed the very second I entered the centre. It was hot, noisy, and full to the brim with young Kenyan boys wearing rags and sporting various cuts, sores and visible abrasions. I immediately felt like I had either a) MacDonald’s fries or b) a large deal of cash, plastered all over my body as these kids looked at
us with such ache and desperation. I started chatting with a few of them and slowly became aware of the reality of their lives. Most of them have been either orphaned or abandoned by their families, and come into Kisumu to live on the streets and make a living by begging. Many of these boys quickly get addicted to various drugs such as glue sniffing in order to forget their horrible pasts and ease the pain of their current reality. They turn to pretty crime to make a living and are treated like scum by the local communities, the police force and pretty much everyone they come into contact with.
Feeling rather mixed emotions I didn’t know what to do with myself when I saw a boy sitting by himself away from everyone, quietly eating his lunch. I went up and said hi and asked him his name. He replied ‘Kevin’ and my first reaction was to tell him that my Dad’s name was Kevin also. He smiled and laughed and then replied by telling me his dads name is Alfred, however he was dead. I sat and chatted with Kevin for the next 20 minutes or so and
he told me his story. He is 16 years old and lives in an alleyway outside the local market. He comes to HOVIC to bath and for one meal a day. His dream is to finish his primary school education, as he dropped out of school at 11 when his parents both died of AIDS. Although primary school education is free in Kenya, you need to be able to afford a ‘donation’ to the school, as well as things like uniform, books and materials…which is way out of reach for him.
In typical girl style…I completely lost it talking with Kevin and had to take myself outside to pull it together. I enquired later as to how much it would cost to send Kevin to school….and it was around $150 AUS a year. So absolutely nothing really....less than what many people I know pay for a new pair of jeans! I immediately wanted to fork out the cash for him. However he would still be living on the street, with no family support, and face issues such as discrimination by other children as well as teachers. I was told his drop out rate would be high without proper support
structures in place. So at this point I was (and still feel) completely torn. It’s a dilemma I am sure many people who work in developing countries face time and time again and goes hand in hand with the feeling of being pulled in 100 different directions at once. How do you value one child’s life over another? I mean there were over 50 boys in that centre (and probably countless others NOT lucky enough to be helped by HOVIC) just like Kevin who are in similar or even worse situations. And already we are here in Kenya, giving up 3 months of paid work, contributing our own money projects for needy villages, so where do you draw the line? How much do you give and to help whom? To intensify my confusion even further, while I was talking with Kevin, he also told me that HOVIC were actually putting on an ‘act’ for our visit today and that they had previously locked him out but let him in that day because we were there. HOVIC is the only organisation of its kind in Kisumu, supporting the streets boys, so I am sure they are genuine. But then again who
do you believe?
So after this, I think it’s fair to say a few vodkas with dinner last night was certainly called for. But after a good night sleep I woke up today feeling much more optimistic. Yes you might not be able to help everyone, but at least you can help some…and that’s what we are here to do! So Fran and I have devised a plan to take our groups back to HOVIC in a few weekends time and spend some time at night walking the streets with the boys and cook them dinner (with security of course…so don’t panic mum)! And then we are going to run a ‘workshop day’ with them which will involve a soccer tournament (their favourite sport of course) and a dancing comp (which my team is already thinking of crazy routines for…think pretty fly for a white guy and cringe, haha) and maybe some painting of their facilities.
But first, its to the villages we go! After what seems like an eternity already, we finally made the trek to Mutumbu today. This will be our home for the next 4 weeks and where we will start our first construction project.
It was incredible to get back out here and I felt so at peace and ease as soon as we arrived. Here is where we are lucky enough to be living and working along side some of the most beautiful, kind and generous people you have ever met. The simplicity of their life is addictive, and their inspirational spirits have re-vamped by optimism in our world already, even after just a day of being here.
So right now I am sitting in my room which consists of a single bed with a somewhat thin mattress (think cardboard like), cement floor, a rackety wooden table decorated by daddy long-leg carcasses, and a door which I have to shut by putting a chair in front of it, but more than ever I am aware that compared to some…this is luxury. There are two big black ugly spiders living in my outside “toilet” (aka hole in the ground surrounded by wooden hut), and for anyone who knows me knows that I don’t deal with spiders all that well (understatement of the century). But right now, I am feeling very privileged and wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
When they talk about
the magic of Africa and its ability to be able to cast a spell on you…this is what they mean.
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Sarah Abrahamse
non-member comment
Inspirational
Kyla, I only had the priviledge of meeting you the once at PEP not so long ago, but when I saw you were doing these blogs I had to see it for myself. They are such joys to read as I am able to relive my Kenyan experiences only a few months ago. I hope that beautiful place continues to treat you well.. and I hope you don't mind if i continue to follow your journey. Continue doing that amazing thing you are doing over there! From Sarah Abrahamse xx