"Nothing stays white in Africa"

The post I originally wrote for today is below, but first an update:

I have been asked to leave the orphanage. After meeting with Eric, the social worker who was fired, in Nairobi on Tuesday, I came back to the orphanage in a good mood and ready to work for my last week here. After dinner, Zach came to me with his cell phone and said that Geoffrey needed to speak with me. Immediately my heart filled with dread. Everyone knew I was going to meet Eric, and the way he left was not on positive terms with the orphanage. I was sure I was about to be reprimanded for visiting with him.

On the phone, Geoffrey says he is coming to pick me up in the morning. Confused, I explain that my flight does not leave for another week (I thought he had the wrong Wednesday). He said, no, he no longer wants me at the orphanage, and he will be here to pick me up in the morning. I am holding Diana and Baby Joyce is asleep on my lap, so I tell him to hold on and stand up. I tell him I do not understand, why am I being asked to leave, and where am I going? He will not answer. He demands (and I use the word demand because he is certainly not friendly about it) that I put Zach back on the phone. I do so, and after Zach hangs up, he can offer me no explanation. He repeatedly says, I do not know, I do not know. He alludes to my visit with Eric, and then suggests I have been having an illicit love affair with a staff member. I am floored.

Emotional overload kicks in, and I begin to cry. The other volunteers are very helpful but no one can offer anything for me to do because what can I do? I have no legal recourse in this country. There is no contract that I have signed saying they must house me for 11 weeks. It is Geoffrey’s property and he can ask me to leave if he so chooses.

I have my parents call me and try to explain the situation. They immediately set to work trying to figure out what I can do for the next week. I attempt to sleep, not knowing what time Geoffrey will come or what will happen. I feel nauseated and anxious.

Around 4:30AM, a knock comes at my door. I’m thinking, what is this, the mafia? What are they thinking? Its pitch dark out, I am not packed, how can they sneak me off like this? After 10 weeks of working, loving, caring and learning with these children, how can they stop me from saying goodbye? I pack my things in the dark and then step outside. I ask to speak with Geoffrey. At first, he refuses to get out of the car and speak with me. After it is clear I will not move until he does, he steps out and beckons me over. I have woken another volunteer, for moral support, but Geoffrey will not allow him in the conversation. I ask why I am being asked to leave. The conversation resembles that of arguing with a five year old, and Geoffrey refuses to listen to reason.

He rambles on about me conspiring with the old staff, and then asks me three times, Are you going to leave? It sounded threatening, as though if I said no, he planned to call security. I said yes, but I needed to understand why I was going. He spun on his heel, jumped in the car, and drove away.

No one knows what is going on. Zach says that this is between me and Geoffrey and he does not know when Geoffrey will be back to get me. I ask him to please call him, as I need this information to make my plans – staying in a hotel, booking a flight, etc. He has no information and essentially responds like someone left in charge without authority – which is, in fact, a good job description. Zach cannot do anything without Geoffrey’s permission.

The upside of him leaving in this fashion (which I do not doubt was to hide the situation from everyone, it would raise suspicions if he were here – that is why he came so early, so that I could not make a scene in front of staff, volunteers and the kids) is that I was able to say goodbye to the kids. It was heartbreaking. Most of them do not understand but a few were visibly sad to hear I was leaving a week early. Jane came to me, held me and began to cry. At this moment I just broke down. How could this be happening? How could anyone question my commitment to WWB? How could anyone make me leave these kids, who so clearly care about me as I care for them? After everything I have put into this place, I am so hurt and so betrayed right now.

Though no straight answer is given to me, I believe that by visiting another project (Lisha Mtoto, a day care centre which I'll describe below), I basically "betrayed" Geoffrey and WWB because they were fearful that I would send money or support to these other children.

I am emotionally exhausted, and have been crying for hours. I want to go home. There are no flights leaving that are available without paying upwards of $2000, and I cannot get a credit from my other ticket, and the entire thing is overwhelming. I sit at the orphanage for hours, packed and waiting, unsure where I am going, and when, and what will happen to me. Finally, Geoffrey comes back with the car, and Zach drives me to Nairobi, where I am sitting right now.

I am so disappointed and sad that this is how my time at WWB will end. I certainly will always treasure the time I spent here, and I will always care for and think of the children I met here. I have learned and gained so much here, and it is so sad that I will now forevermore think badly of this organization. I plan to write a very long and truthful review of the orphanage and post it online somewhere, not to discourage volunteers but to warn them. This is a situation no one wants to find themselves in. If I did not have parents available, or had no credit card, or had no donated funds (I sincerely hope that my brother does not mind the terrible use his money is going to go towards now – namely, helping me pay for accommodation), I would be really in a bad situation. To be a foreign woman traveling alone with a large suitcase in this country is not comfortable. It is not terribly dangerous but I do not feel comfortable trying to find my way to another place to stay. I sincerely hope no volunteers every have to face this situation, because it is really awful. To be forced from a place I have called home for 10 weeks, to be pulled from children I care about, with no place to go, is a terrible way to treat someone who has given huge amounts of time and money to benefit the orphanage and Makuyu community. My experience is no doubt different from most peoples, but I think that every volunteer faces a risk that they could be sent away without warning or explanation, and it is a scary position to be in.

More than anything I feel hurt and betrayed. I understand that this kind of thing is actually a little normal for Africa. But I thought that I had created relationships that would transcend this kind of politics. I am shocked and saddened to know how little I meant to the management. But I am certain that I did mean something to the staff and most importantly, to the children. In truth, they are the real victims of mismanagement. 

To end on a more positive note, below is the entry I planned to post today. I certainly do not look back on this trip negatively; indeed, I think this experience of being kicked out has taught me a lot about dealing with NGOs, specifically those run by corrupt, selfish, deceitful, malicious, crooked…okay, you get the point. I am definitely still angry. But anyway…

“Nothing stays white in Africa for long.”

We are talking, of course, about laundry. My temporary roommate, Courtney, is trying to wash a white tank top, scrubbing furiously to get out the red dirt, and I comment on the inability of clothes to stay clean here. It does not matter how hard you scrub, everything still looks dirty.

But the statement holds true for our skin too. As each volunteer turns brown under the sun, and our legs and feet turn reddish brown as we kick up waves of dirt, we have all noticed our skin getting darker. I wash my feet every day, but there is still dirt in places I cannot reach.

However, there is a more profound truth in this simple statement. Nothing stays white in Africa for long. Beliefs I have long held sacred, truths I have accepted as universal, ideas I have always held, have been challenged in ways I never expected. These ways of thinking are western – and if I may say, they are white – in nature. I have found that I am unable to simply view the world from one perspective any longer. Of course, I am not stupid – I am definitely still mzungu! – but it is worth noting that my whiteness is being challenged at all times. As my friends and family know, I am a champion for limited government and am always quick to blame problems on state intervention. While I definitely think that the Kenyan government is an awful and corrupt institution, I am recognizing the necessity of government and the rule of law in new ways. I am also seeing how the free market, though well-functioning and efficient, still leaves many in desperate poverty. I see how systems that work extremely well in our world utterly fail here.

Today I went to see this day care center where Eric has been helping out after he was fired from WWB. First of all, let me say that Eric is still looking for a job and this is purely voluntary work. Second, Geoffrey still refuses to even speak to him to explain why he has been fired and is also refusing to pay him for the first half of July that he worked. What a mess – but Eric is such a wonderful, dedicated and passionate guy. He will be better off doing more constructive work in an environment that is not so corrupt and unappreciative.

The daycare center is in a Nairobi slum, the same slum as Children’s Garden Home. The center is a small shack, about ten by twenty feet, made of pieces of wood and corrugated steel. They see me outside and I hear thirty voices yelling, “Mzungu! Mzungu! Mzungu!” Inside there are 6 wooden benches, a tiny easel, and instructional “posters” on the wall, made of old maize sacks. The kids are so excited to see me, they grab at my camera and all want to shake my hand. Eric and Saidah, the woman who is in charge of the project, explain to me that these kids are from the slum. They are the poorest of the poor. Many of them have not eaten in several days, some are HIV positive, some are orphans, others have mothers who are prostitutes. The kids need basic material needs, as well as psychological support as they come from the dangerous slum, where street gangs run at night and their family members are in the sex trade. They often have to beg on the street and they have no idea what they are doing because they are too young to understand the dangers. Though education is free, they cannot afford school fees (kids have to pay for exams), books, supplies and uniforms (this cost would be something not more than $25 per year). This is the type of thing you see on those TV ads to sponsor a child. But these kids are not staring with wide, desperate eyes; they are laughing and joyful despite their serious situation.

Saidah started this daycare center in January, and is desperate for funding to help the kids eat. Their immediate needs are pressing. But Eric has decided to join with her and try to plan a more long-term solution to rescue the kids. Saidah lives in a complex nearby but in a safe area. They plan to eventually move all the kids to the compound, which has toilets, will have running water and electricity, a yard to play in, and a garden to grow vegetables. In order to do this, the center, which is being called Lisha Mtoto (Feed the Child), needs regular sustainable funding. Morgan and I have both been to see the daycare and we want to help Eric start a website. I am also interested trying to do some fundraising while at home, as well as finding grants that can provide large amounts of funding. Finally, Eric would eventually like to start a volunteer program, like at WWB. It is evident that a $90 per week fee here would do immense amounts of good. I am not saying that WWB does not have needs, but I find it difficult to compare how lucky our kids are compared with those at Lisha Mtoto.

Yesterday I went with Bernadette to meet again with MCEEO, the NGO that World Vision used to operate, to see some of the projects that they work on. We walked all over and looked at a number of projects – a dairy project, where farmers bring milk to a large tank (purchased by World Vision) that keeps it cold, and the milk is sold to the community; there was also a nursery, where trees and plants were sold…World Vision funded the purchase of potting bags to help (we bought a tree for 50/= to be planted at WWB); we visited the Gakungu water project, which funded the drilling of a bore hole that goes 60 meters underground to pump clean fresh water to hundreds of homes in the area. It is really incredible to see all of the wonderful work done by World Vision in this area. They have transformed this area immensely.

I have a critical note, however; it appears that, without continued funding, these projects are not self-sustaining! The dairy wants to expand but the tanks are extremely expensive. The farmers that can participate, then, are seriously limited by this and they cannot afford to purchase a new tank. The water project cannot expand without a lot of money (they need to use a massive drill and pay the technicians, as well as pay for pipes). Further, without World Vision, they have virtually no funds. I am working on putting together some information about applying for grants and writing proposals, but I am not really that experienced in doing this, and applying for grants involves a bit of research and internet access. I think the MCEEO is a wonderful organization, and the work it does is crucial. However, I think that it misses a bigger picture, in dealing with the small issues – why are these people so poor to begin with? This echoes something I am learning more and more as I spend time here – the bottom up, grassroots development is critical to promoting fulfillment of basic needs and involving the community in development work. It ignores the major structural issues that plague the developing world, however, such as corruption or a poor business climate, the geographic conditions of an area (why are we importing water to a semi-arid area? This is not long-term sustainable!), and other major issues.

I want to help MCEEO get some funding for their projects, because they are a really devoted and positive organization. I hope to work on this a little when I return home. It is difficult for them to apply for grants, however, as the entire staff are older men who do not have access to internet or general knowledge about proposal writing or even using a computer.

As always, thank you so much for reading! I will certainly continue to post about my situation as it unfolds. I appreciate all the thoughts and prayers of everyone, but most especially my parents, without whom I would be absolutely lost right now.