Mathare

My month long project is coming to a close, and I thought it might be a good time to fill you in a little on where I've been spending my days. The project certainly hasn't turned out as I had planned or hoped, but I've also been able to learn many valuable things because of this project. My time has been spent in Mathare, a slum about 1.5 to 2 hours away from my house.

Mathare is certainly not even close to being the largest slum of Nairobi, yet is still home to over half a million people. Most are women and their children; most unemployed. Many of the men you see are passed out in the alleys because of drug and alcohol abuse. The population increases daily as people flock to Nairobi in hopes of employment and opportunities. Unfortunately, instead most live off about a dollar a day in complete squaller, with no government aid and no hope for their future or their children.

In all the interviews I've completed, I've met few that have had the opportunity to attend secondary school, and less than five who have been able to complete it. The Kenyan government provides universal primary education. Too bad that there aren't enough primary schools in Mathare for all the children. Instead, private schools have popped up to accommodate the ever-increasing poverty. These "private" schools are made from scrap metal, lack electricity, are stifling hot, and fit 20 to 30 students in each classroom which is about the size of a nice bathroom.

Large families fight to fit into small ramshackle huts made of scrap metal and other products usually regarded to as trash. Rent for these "houses" range anywhere from 800 to 2500 Kenyan Shillings (between 10 and 30 USD). It may not sound like much, but most families struggle to make three or four thousand a month. These are the dollar a day statistics you always hear about.

The “streets” are lined with sewage and other waste. Streams of unusable water run through the entire slum, making walking through the slum a dangerous and arduous adventure. The government does not provide adequate water supplies, with many people being forced to go on long walks each day to fetch water. The water supply was turned off a year ago because the government complained too many people were not paying. There are not enough bathrooms to suffice for the overabundant population. Where electricity exists, it is usually in an illegal form; hijacked from families up on the hills above Mathare, still costing each household about 300 shillings a month.

Nighttime is a dangerous time in Mathare. Although the Kenyan government
implemented a project to instill large lights for all of the slums, there are still areas of darkness. When there are power outages the slums become infinitely more dangerous at night. With little police intervention throughout the slums, people are left to fend off muggers, rapists, and other violent persons by themselves.

If you wanted to walk through Mathare by yourself, it would be nearly impossible. The maze of homes and shops is nearly impenetrable without a knowledgeable guide. If you do get in, be prepared for the nonstop chants of "How are you, how are you" over and over again from young children excited to see a white person. The jaded adults just stare at you, occasionally asking that you sponsor their child through school. The meaner ones yell at you to leave, that this isn't a show for my privileged eyes to see.

On hot days, I am embarrassed to say, I can not survive staying in Mathare for more than 2 hours. The combination of heat, lack of ventilation, and the awful stench of human waste makes me physically ill. Instead I leave, sit on my matatu for 2 hours, and realize how unbelievably lucky I am that my journeys to Mathare last for a few hours at most, while all the people I talked to during the day were born, raised, and will probably die in conditions that will never even be an option for me to live in.