The Slums

The fifth day I was in Kenya I got the opportunity to go to the slums.  We visited the largest slum complex in all of Africa, spreading over 1.5 miles housing over one million people.  It was unreal to take in everything I saw at the slums.  When I found out the slums were just miles away from where I was staying i immediately signed myself up to go see them.  As one of my Kenyan friends talked to me I began to get more and more afraid of what I might see.  I was to go with a body guard, and carry no valuables on me.  I was to stand in the middle of the two men I was going with, and was not to talk to anyone unless I got the ok. My guide explained to me that these people were living in a stage of desperation, and even though they were good people they would do anything to survive.  I was to be extremely careful. We took the public bus (matatu) to where the slums were, with people literally sitting on top of each other.  I knew as we drew closer that this was where Kibera was.  Trash lined the streets nearly three feet high on either side, and I watched as men ravaged through it to get any possible food or clothing.  I followed my guide through a street lined with trash and slimy green liquid until we got to where the actual slum "homes" began.  Suddenly even the slums in America were mansions.  These complexes were about about 10X10 square feet, and were literally piled on top of each other. To get from one home to the next you had to turn your body sideways to fit through the small spaces.  The homes were made out of mud, sticks, and tin (if they were lucky.) My guide stopped us at the first home we came too, and asked the family if we could come in to talk with them.  As I walked into the home I was awestruck and overwhelmed.  The house was about half of the size of my room, and held a mother, father, and 4 children.  The home had a few pillows on the floor to be used as couches, and a sheet half way through the room to separate it from where the were to sleep on the dirt floor.  There was a small table which carried one old moldy piece of bread, and a lantern.  Flies were swarming the room, and it smelt of sewage and rotting trash.  I watched as the mother came out from the back room carrying a small baby, who was obviously holding on for life.  The small babes eyes were hazy and would roll to the back of her head as she struggled to keep her own head up. We sat and talked to the father for a while about what it was like to live in the slums.  He explained to me that he was stuck, that all he wanted to do was provide for his family but that the only work he could find was selling bread. Although he worked hard, he was struggling to pay a rent of $2.50 a month.  After a little while of talking the rest of their children stumbled in from school.  Two of them were shy and scared of us white people, and the third was down syndrome. I will never forget her beautiful face, and her happy smile.  She walked right over to me, laughing and screaming with excitement and sat right on my lap. The father told us how his children's education was the most important thing to him. I watched the pain in his eyes as he prayed that one day they could leave these conditions. Once it was time to leave we handed the man 300 shillings, which is equal to about $3.00 and was on our way. When I got back to my headquarters I was suddenly full of guilt and could not eat dinner.  Those people were to stay in those conditions for the rest of their lives, and just like that I went back to a meal that they could never dream of having. I felt completely overwhelmed.
The thing is that millions of people live like that every day, and will live like that until the end of the world. No one can change that, it is just the way the world is.  But I realized something very important in Kibera. Although I can not rebuild their government, or donate millions, I can be informed and I can share with the world.  That is really all those people want.  They want to know that the world cares, that we know of their trials and heartaches and we pray for them.  I will never stop telling these stories and sharing those peoples voices.