Into Kibera

The Kibera Slums are among the biggest in the world, sitting twenty minutes outside central Nairobi. They host their own informal economy, a myriad of well-intentioned NGOs, and as one pompous Brit told me, are almost "touristy."I had never been to a slum before, never witnessed the nauseating smells, the piles of trash, the battered children, and unstable shacks. When it comes to the third-world images on US television screens and the sponsor-a-child advertisements that show black children with flies on their face, all those images could be taken from any given corner or alleyway in Kibera and it is a powerful thing to have it there in front of you.

I went with 600 cookies because I wanted to, and because I believe if you wish to write about the world, you have to see it on its good days and its bad. A coworker and I walked down the main road and back up a hill to the abandoned railroad tracks. We were the only white people, apart from one man off playing soccer in a makeshift pitch. The kids clustered around, smiling and reaching out and only sometimes grabbing. There was an incredible amount of order, all things considered, and that is something you do not expect from slums.

On top of the hill I looked out and saw the aluminums roofs follow the base of the valley to another hill, and then continue on out of sight who knows how far. A stream of muddy water rushed through the central part lined by trash, and its hard to imagine an African rainy season down there. I have asked myself each day since how one fixes this, the absolute mess that happens when humanity at is primal center is left to its own chaotic devices. NGOs are good ideas, but are based on big important peoples' generosity, and are almost never sustainable. The corporate world supports itself, but is largely run by those interested in their shareholders bank accounts and buying fillers for their homes. It seems to me that to take impoverished children out of a slum, to find the money that will build pipes and toilets and electrical sockets, it requires a fundamental shift in how everyday human beings view success, and the ideal life. It requires everyone to reassess their priorities by seeing a big filthy picture. Frankly, I'm not sure that's possible with seven billion lives, and so the world will continue on for a long time, some of us profiting, some of us suffering, the icecaps still melting, all largely based off mere circumstance. This is sad to say, and pessimistic, but it is hard not to go to places like Kibera and start feeling painfully realistic. It is also hard to go to places like Kibera, and not want to hand each child a cookie and a few shillings, regardless of its sustainability, or far reaching impact.

The day before, I went to a work event: the launch of a new investment city 100km outside Nairobi. There the President of Kenya spoke, and said that God must indeed be on Kenya's side given that on this special day rain miraculously decided to fall for the first time in six months. He, and others, saw it as a blessing, and I wondered how any President of Kenya could think God is on anybody's side with places like Kibera sitting on the doorstep. I have said this before, and say it often, but any God that sits by apathetically as kids spoon dirty water into their mouths and wither away with hunger is not a God I ever want to believe in, much less fall to my knees and pray to.