When the weekend arrives I welcome the opportunity to meet with friends and sample East African cuisine. In many ways this experience can easily be paralleled to dining in the UK, yet at the same time they sit worlds apart… probably because they are worlds apart!
See this as a step-by-step guide to eating out in Kenya; this information could be extremely valuable as you may end up in a Kenyan restaurant when you least expect it.
Time. Like most things in Africa, eating must be given the upmost respect concerning time. Hence, if you plan to eat out in Kisumu, I would recommend ordering roughly two days in advance to avoid any unnecessary waiting. Otherwise you could be waiting a while! The indefinite continued progress of existence aka time; isn’t a huge issue to most here as proceedings tend to happen eventually. Be smart – order early.
Cold. When you order a drink, always, always remember to ask for it to be delivered ‘cold’ (that’s baridi in Kiswahili). Otherwise you will end up with the inevitable look warm, I’d-rather-dehydrate, bottle of Coca-Cola or beer. And who would want that?! But seriously, why is there even the option of taking these drinks warm. I will never know.
Tap Water. Do not even go there if you value life in any shape or form.
The Bill. If I could make up a proverb, it would probably be: “A wise man always cross-references the bill with the menu.” I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been ‘done in’. It’s almost like a game and your role is to catch-out the restaurant. When you do, everyone laughs (like the end of an episode of Thunderbirds), then you pay the actual price. Easy.
Enjoy your meal. Love you Kenya.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Obama's Head keeps me dry...
Allow me to introduce you to the rainy season. Generally between April and June, Kenya experiences torrential rain fall, on a daily basis! For the local farmers who are desperate to grow profitable crops, the formation of dark clouds will bring tears of happiness to their eyes. For everyone else, life becomes nothing short of a disaster! This country was not built to deal with heavy rain and hence hours of hammering rain on sheets of rusted tin tend to take its toll.
‘It’s the rainy season… it happens every year,’ one man informs me. ‘I didn’t think it rained in Africa,’ I would reply.
‘El niño is coming…’ another woman screams as she sprints past me with a plastic bag tied over her head. Is he a Politician…? I wonder to myself, whilst drawing out my Lonely Planet guidebook.
Driving becomes an art form when the rain arrives. The dust turns to mud and the public transport becomes unhealthily over-populated. The combination of mud and window condensation transforms the main road of Kisumu into the first stage of the annual Safari Rally. I believe my matutu completed the distance with one of the fastest times yesterday… One must become accustomed to the proverbial African rainy day. Surely not that difficult coming from N. Ireland!
Despite the inconveniences brought by hailstones the size of small golf balls, the Kenyans always seem to find the funny side. Water dripping onto a brand new laptop or the commute home being delayed by two hours can’t be anything but funny… can’t it?
When buying an umbrella this week with a head shot of Obama on top, the guy at the till exclaimed, ‘This is our President…’ Now that I think is funny! I quietly corrected him and was on my way to join the second stage of the Safari Rally.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
So good they named it twice…
Kenya boasts a vast range of public transport options. This spans, in my humble opinion, from the unsafe to the very unsafe, yet in a strange way it makes travel exciting! You couldn’t write some of the things they come up with here. Many of the common modes of transport find themselves with double-barreled, onomatopoeic titles. For example, the Tuk-Tuk, which can only be described as a three wheeled motorbike with a hood. They say it’s called a Tuk-Tuk due to the machine-gun like sound it makes… tuk tuk tuk tuk tuk tuk tuk… that is comically rather accurate (and noisy).
The double-barreled titles continue with the bicycle which is addressed in kiswahili as the Boda-Boda and the kind of travel most associated with the village. The Boda-Boda, for me, is easily the most dangerous way to travel around town, especially as other drivers do not refrain from nudging the rear wheel if it happens to be impeding their journey! As well as holding little or no respect on the road, the Boda-Boda is slow and often more expensive!
This leads me to the motorbike and my dream of one day learning to ride one. Affectionately known as the Piki-Piki in East Africa, the motorbike is a must have commodity. In Kisumu, at least, I give this mode of transport top marks for its availability (at any time of the day) and general cost effectiveness (not forgetting the coolness factor). However, it’s the thrill of being whisked off through the dusty suburbs of Sub-Saharan Africa with the wind blowing in ones hair and the satisfaction of not having every inch of personal space invaded, much like on the matatu!
After seven months of testing the exciting modes of transportation, I thank God he has answered prayers and watched over my safety! He is faithful – that’s for sure!
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Kenya Days 8 - 10
Day 8
I arrived in the office by 9 and was thankful that Peter had a number of things for me to get on with that would last for a couple of weeks. I was just desperate to get stuck into something which would benefit the office. I was preparing the end of 4th quarter report which would be sent through to Nairobi and then to London. This was an opportunity to learn about every aspect of the office so I kept my head down. In the evening I accompanied Peter to a local radio station were he discussed the law surrounding civil marriage and also how it clashed with customary language. It was presented in the local language ‘Luo’ so I was unsure what exactly was being said. Before bed I got skype up and running and spoke to Mum, Joy, Dave Thompson and the HSBC help line as they had blocked my card… typical.
Day 9
Today I arrived at the office as usual and continued to work on the end of quarter report. I am starting to get into routine and am familiar with my surroundings. Today the office went for lunch together which was unusual yet a good bonding time. It was also nice to get outside the office for a while. We took an extended lunch break. After work I filmed a few things on my camera and spent much of the evening working on my first video diary which I plan to post online within the next week. I am quite isolated in the evenings but don’t mind because I have the internet. I called both Granda Nevin and Workman over Skype to check up on how they were. The connection was poor but all seems well.
Day 10
I woke up knowing tonight I would probably be moved to a smaller room in the apartment for the return of the Australian group. I spent a majority of the day analysing the Matrimonial Causes Act which we are using to present a radio programme in a couple of weeks time. It makes up 61 pages in ‘Word’ and 19000 words. Needless to say I was still reading through the early sections by the end of the day. It’s good to get stuck into some legislation as it feels like I’m getting involved in real legal work. By the end of the week I should be an expert in matrimonial law. There is very little food in my cupboard so a trip to the supermarket was needed – I’m unsure what to buy. Also I’m sure by June I will be sick of rice.
Kenya Day 7
After a good nights sleep I got out of bed around 8 and prepared to go to church for the first time. I met Peter and attended his place of worship, which is called ‘Chris Co’. I think there are a number of these churches throughout Kenya. First impressions were generally quite good although it’s difficult to judge initially.
The service lasted three and a half hours, which was long enough when battling the midday heat. The first hour was praise led by the full band and sound system supported by the 8 on-stage singers who had a mic each. Ballywatt would have been embarrassed to see the equipment. Most of the songs were in Swahili so I was unable to sing along, although the odd UK contemporary made it onto the play list.
The praise was somewhat dragged out but in many ways this seemed to be justified by the energy created from the congregation. At a point everyone was performing air guitar and giving high fives. Generally most started to dance and clapping was a prerequisite. It made me laugh but strangely I quite enjoyed it for someone who was never big into praise at the best of times. The church is of course embedded in the charismatic bracket and that sits fine with me as I don’t seek some backward, dead, establishment.
Apart from the praise, everything was spoken in English then translated (this explains to a certain extent the length of the service). During the sermon the constant translation is difficult to get used to and the talk wasn’t in my opinion overly brilliant. Then again I didn’t experience much prosperity gospel, which I had been so keenly warned about and to be honest had anticipated.
After the service I went back to Peter’s for lunch and watched a film. I bought the meat for the meal and it was filling. I returned home and worked on my computer a little, then hit the sack.
The service lasted three and a half hours, which was long enough when battling the midday heat. The first hour was praise led by the full band and sound system supported by the 8 on-stage singers who had a mic each. Ballywatt would have been embarrassed to see the equipment. Most of the songs were in Swahili so I was unable to sing along, although the odd UK contemporary made it onto the play list.
The praise was somewhat dragged out but in many ways this seemed to be justified by the energy created from the congregation. At a point everyone was performing air guitar and giving high fives. Generally most started to dance and clapping was a prerequisite. It made me laugh but strangely I quite enjoyed it for someone who was never big into praise at the best of times. The church is of course embedded in the charismatic bracket and that sits fine with me as I don’t seek some backward, dead, establishment.
Apart from the praise, everything was spoken in English then translated (this explains to a certain extent the length of the service). During the sermon the constant translation is difficult to get used to and the talk wasn’t in my opinion overly brilliant. Then again I didn’t experience much prosperity gospel, which I had been so keenly warned about and to be honest had anticipated.
After the service I went back to Peter’s for lunch and watched a film. I bought the meat for the meal and it was filling. I returned home and worked on my computer a little, then hit the sack.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Kenya Day 6
I was told to be ready for 6:30 and therefore made it out of bed just after 5:30 to shower, get breakfast and read. It turned out that we left after 7:30, which meant I could have delayed my breakfast as I knew later in the day I would be hungry. I was travelling to a small village 44km outside Kisumu to provide medical aid to hundreds of people who couldn’t afford to get treatment in a hospital.
We would be working with an Australian charity called Hands of Hope who had provided the drugs etc. A number of doctors, dentists and nurses had been organised to give the villagers a proper assessment. I started the day in the Pharmacy dealing out scripts although most of the people could only speak the local language ‘Luo’ and I was forced to rely on the nationals to translate. We stayed in the village for around nine hours and saw to over 1500 people – a successful day!
The charity consisted of eleven Australians who were all around my age so it was nice to have a different source of conversation and I thoroughly enjoyed the day. Having contact with other internationals makes the culture shock a little easier as I was able to share my experiences and difficulties. The Australians would be moving into my apartment the following week for ten days and I am excited about this due to the fact it will act as another source of company.
I was happy to take this opportunity on my day off and be of some use because I have come here to serve people and that is in no way confined to legal practise. Today I feel happy and very much appreciate this experience – one never really grasps the difference between the UK and Africa until they see it with their own eyes. Most people here earn enough to cover the basics and anything else is unknown. And when I say basic, I mean mostly substandard of how we see life.
I arrived back at the apartment around 9pm and made a banana sandwich which was a taste of home, before climbing under the net.
We would be working with an Australian charity called Hands of Hope who had provided the drugs etc. A number of doctors, dentists and nurses had been organised to give the villagers a proper assessment. I started the day in the Pharmacy dealing out scripts although most of the people could only speak the local language ‘Luo’ and I was forced to rely on the nationals to translate. We stayed in the village for around nine hours and saw to over 1500 people – a successful day!
The charity consisted of eleven Australians who were all around my age so it was nice to have a different source of conversation and I thoroughly enjoyed the day. Having contact with other internationals makes the culture shock a little easier as I was able to share my experiences and difficulties. The Australians would be moving into my apartment the following week for ten days and I am excited about this due to the fact it will act as another source of company.
I was happy to take this opportunity on my day off and be of some use because I have come here to serve people and that is in no way confined to legal practise. Today I feel happy and very much appreciate this experience – one never really grasps the difference between the UK and Africa until they see it with their own eyes. Most people here earn enough to cover the basics and anything else is unknown. And when I say basic, I mean mostly substandard of how we see life.
I arrived back at the apartment around 9pm and made a banana sandwich which was a taste of home, before climbing under the net.
Kenya Day 5
Court at 9am for a criminal case about a guy who was charged with stealing two batteries from a car. The batteries where worth around £100 and if found guilty he could face a maximum 14 years in prison which doesn’t seem reasonable. Peter was defending the man and gave a good account for his defence. It appears the police had inconsistent evidence to convict – only time will tell.
CLEAR are in place to represent people who can’t afford professional legal fees. This case may save a man from many years in prison and bring justice (that is of course if he is telling the truth and didn’t commit the crime).
We went immediately to the Kisumu High court for a hearing regarding a couple fighting custody rights of their children. I was unable to ‘sit in’ on this occasion. Following this and a scary ride on the back of a motorbike we returned to the office. Peter left for court with nothing for me to do so I went to the internet café to send some emails.
That evening on the way home I prayed that God would put people around me as I wouldn’t feel lonely. I returned home to meet a Kenyan couple (Dentist and Nurse) who invited me to have Kenyan tea and asked if I would join them the next day to help with medical care in a remote village 50Km outside Kisumu. I agreed as I had no other plans and prepared for a 5am rise and a trip close to the homeland of one Barrack Obama!
The internet was working so I sent emails to various people and read before bed. I felt God had organised my weekend to keep me busy and I praised his name.
CLEAR are in place to represent people who can’t afford professional legal fees. This case may save a man from many years in prison and bring justice (that is of course if he is telling the truth and didn’t commit the crime).
We went immediately to the Kisumu High court for a hearing regarding a couple fighting custody rights of their children. I was unable to ‘sit in’ on this occasion. Following this and a scary ride on the back of a motorbike we returned to the office. Peter left for court with nothing for me to do so I went to the internet café to send some emails.
That evening on the way home I prayed that God would put people around me as I wouldn’t feel lonely. I returned home to meet a Kenyan couple (Dentist and Nurse) who invited me to have Kenyan tea and asked if I would join them the next day to help with medical care in a remote village 50Km outside Kisumu. I agreed as I had no other plans and prepared for a 5am rise and a trip close to the homeland of one Barrack Obama!
The internet was working so I sent emails to various people and read before bed. I felt God had organised my weekend to keep me busy and I praised his name.
Kenya Day 4
I slept in until 8am, had a shower and breakfast and put on a shirt and tie (no jacket). I made it to the office in under 15 minutes, which was very convenient. The office was warm and Peter the advocate gave me a breakdown of what work the CLEAR Kisumu office carries out. Due to the time of the year and lack of funding, most of the prison visits and legal education have finished; hence I am bound to the office much more.
I was given a recent criminal case to read to in order to get a feel of what goes on. Nothing is typed and instead hand written so I was unable to understand what was happening until Peter explained. This caused a mini crisis in my head and sent me into a period of worry – would I struggle to understand everything here just because the writing is illegible? In addition, the office did not have wireless and so I am unable to use my mac for anything but word processing during the day. Also, there doesn’t seem to be any work for me to do and I’ve been left (for the time being) to wait. This has been a steep learning curve moving into an African office despite being warned! I continue to remind myself of why I am here and ask God for patience and contentment until things pick up.
The afternoon was much better as I bought something to eat and worked through some documents, which outlined more of the work carried out in the office. I decided to just go with the pace of the office and maybe devote more time to learning the local languages.
On the way home I stopped at the supermarket to get various items. Tonight I knew I was coming home to an empty flat for the first time so was prepared. I read a little and attempted to get connected to the internet but to no avail. Lillian was still there when I got back so we chatted for a while. I cooked pasta, sausages and mixed vegetables which made me feel ill. Bed early as I have a criminal case to attend in court at 9am.
I was given a recent criminal case to read to in order to get a feel of what goes on. Nothing is typed and instead hand written so I was unable to understand what was happening until Peter explained. This caused a mini crisis in my head and sent me into a period of worry – would I struggle to understand everything here just because the writing is illegible? In addition, the office did not have wireless and so I am unable to use my mac for anything but word processing during the day. Also, there doesn’t seem to be any work for me to do and I’ve been left (for the time being) to wait. This has been a steep learning curve moving into an African office despite being warned! I continue to remind myself of why I am here and ask God for patience and contentment until things pick up.
The afternoon was much better as I bought something to eat and worked through some documents, which outlined more of the work carried out in the office. I decided to just go with the pace of the office and maybe devote more time to learning the local languages.
On the way home I stopped at the supermarket to get various items. Tonight I knew I was coming home to an empty flat for the first time so was prepared. I read a little and attempted to get connected to the internet but to no avail. Lillian was still there when I got back so we chatted for a while. I cooked pasta, sausages and mixed vegetables which made me feel ill. Bed early as I have a criminal case to attend in court at 9am.
Chroncile Article - 4
A heat wave? Surely not in January! Granted I am sitting directly on the equator during the summer season yet my subconscious still half expects the first month of the year to yield sub zero temperatures and be exposed to road gritters (which will ironically damage the car more than the snow and ice). Yesterday, the temperature clocked 36 degrees and I’ve still managed to contract a mild cold. Your guess is as good as mine…
With these sunnier climes comes the inevitable pastime of sunbathing. Personally I was never a big fan of lying prostrate on the ground until my back sizzled, leading to days to applying the latest sun care moisturiser (then again I went to see High School Musical on Ice at aged 20 so who am I to talk)! Nevertheless, since I had a couple of days off work, I felt the time was right to give lying in the sun the respect it deserved, especially as I had come all this way. My main goal was to shake off the well-formed ‘farmer tan’, which had developed during the months of November and December. (The ‘farmer tan’ being the general tanning of the arms and face only – I would know as I grew up on a farm!)
My shirt came off, much to the disgust of the locals around me who were forced to wear sunglasses in order to deflect any unwanted rays from my white chest. I should note at this point (and not to name names) but my mother suggested I buy sun cream when I arrived in Kenya, not considering there isn’t much of a market for the product out here. Hence I eventually applied copious amounts of extortionately priced Factor 40, which in reality allows one to return to their native country a shade lighter than they arrived. After one day I felt it was for the best that I retire from sunbathing and return to promoting legal aid and good governance in Africa. That is, with the farmer tan still intact!
With these sunnier climes comes the inevitable pastime of sunbathing. Personally I was never a big fan of lying prostrate on the ground until my back sizzled, leading to days to applying the latest sun care moisturiser (then again I went to see High School Musical on Ice at aged 20 so who am I to talk)! Nevertheless, since I had a couple of days off work, I felt the time was right to give lying in the sun the respect it deserved, especially as I had come all this way. My main goal was to shake off the well-formed ‘farmer tan’, which had developed during the months of November and December. (The ‘farmer tan’ being the general tanning of the arms and face only – I would know as I grew up on a farm!)
My shirt came off, much to the disgust of the locals around me who were forced to wear sunglasses in order to deflect any unwanted rays from my white chest. I should note at this point (and not to name names) but my mother suggested I buy sun cream when I arrived in Kenya, not considering there isn’t much of a market for the product out here. Hence I eventually applied copious amounts of extortionately priced Factor 40, which in reality allows one to return to their native country a shade lighter than they arrived. After one day I felt it was for the best that I retire from sunbathing and return to promoting legal aid and good governance in Africa. That is, with the farmer tan still intact!
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Kenya Day 3
Today I have reached Kisumu where I will start my internship. The bus journey took five and a half hours, which was comfortable. Although I will not comment on the driving! Luckily there was someone waiting to meet me when I arrived on the edge of Lake Victoria. It was Peter who is the office advocate (in Kenya they don’t have the solicitor/ barrister distinction – instead everyone goes to the bar). Peter took me to the office and I noted there would be three tables and computers for 5 people. The others in the office seem nice.
It is much warmer in Kisumu than in Nairobi, which will be huge challenge although I think I will rarely have to wear a suit. My new accommodation has lifted my spirits somewhat as I have a well-protected room from mosquitoes and a woman called Lillian who washes my clothes!! The apartment is very clean and secure however I am not sure how long I can stay here, as it may be temporary.
I have been shown how to get in and out of the city in a matatu (mini bus). It takes about 15 minutes and costs 20 Shillings – equivalent to 16p.
I slept in the afternoon and woke to find three Swedish girls and it turned out they had been living in the apartment for the previous three weeks and were leaving the next morning. They cooked me dinner that night and offered me a lot of useful information about Kisumu. It was refreshing to have conversation with clear English speakers and learn some facts and safety measures that may have taken me weeks to find out. The girls had been working for an NGO in Kisumu and had left for Tanzania by the time I was out of bed the next morning.
Day 3 was the first time I had spoken to anyone from home - a five-minute conversation with Mum. Also that evening I managed to get online via wireless in the apartment and send some messages on Facebook. I listened to Radio 4 to try and bring some normality back into my life, especially as everything has changed at once.
It is much warmer in Kisumu than in Nairobi, which will be huge challenge although I think I will rarely have to wear a suit. My new accommodation has lifted my spirits somewhat as I have a well-protected room from mosquitoes and a woman called Lillian who washes my clothes!! The apartment is very clean and secure however I am not sure how long I can stay here, as it may be temporary.
I have been shown how to get in and out of the city in a matatu (mini bus). It takes about 15 minutes and costs 20 Shillings – equivalent to 16p.
I slept in the afternoon and woke to find three Swedish girls and it turned out they had been living in the apartment for the previous three weeks and were leaving the next morning. They cooked me dinner that night and offered me a lot of useful information about Kisumu. It was refreshing to have conversation with clear English speakers and learn some facts and safety measures that may have taken me weeks to find out. The girls had been working for an NGO in Kisumu and had left for Tanzania by the time I was out of bed the next morning.
Day 3 was the first time I had spoken to anyone from home - a five-minute conversation with Mum. Also that evening I managed to get online via wireless in the apartment and send some messages on Facebook. I listened to Radio 4 to try and bring some normality back into my life, especially as everything has changed at once.
Kenya Day 2
6 hours sleep saw me rise at 7 am (which is 4am in the UK). I dressed in Jacket and Tie as I was acting as assistant counsel in Nairobi High Court Anti-corruption Division that morning…you couldn’t have written it. However, I didn’t make it to the office until 10 am and missed the hearing – luckily it had been adjourned.
I was however offered a tour around the High Court buildings and met the Chief Justice – no big deal! Kenya is currently debating a revised constitution that is primarily opposed by most as it includes entrenched provisions concerning Islamic law. Although it may cause little consternation in the current climate, the future implications could be huge regarding the rise of Islam in a country which is roughly 90% Christian (albeit some being nominal).
God has been taking care of me and I can see it. I feel content after Day 2 and the mother of the family I am staying with says I am her son. The parents where very touched by the tea towel of the Giant’s Causeway and 4000 KSH (£32) I presented to them. I have been invited again if I ever make it back to Nairobi. I thank God for good health and good meals so far. Food was one of my biggest fears. Although in a few weeks I may be potentially cooking for myself (BIG Prayer Point).
I’ve been blown away by Nairobi and the standard of living here. There is no such thing as a footpath (bar the city centre) and drains by the side of the road are holes. I was under the impression that the city was very developed, yet everything in terms of finish and structure is sub standard for the UK. Welcome Stuart to the 3rd world. Yet after only a day of walking in the city I do feel that I’m getting used to how everything appears to be in disrepair, almost like a building site that will never be finished. I believe that our level of infrastructure would stun many of the people here. Anyway, I’ll get over it!
I felt a lot less self conscious today walking about in a suit because 50% of people in the CBD wear a suit and so I look much less like a tourist. Today it didn’t rain and wasn’t overly humid so wearing a suit was just about do-able.
We have been watching the God channel in the house during the evenings and I’ve noticed the prosperity Gospel is rife among teaching. Everything seems to focus on becoming wealthy and having more money with the eventual outcome of reaching immense happiness. The family, although clearly Godly, seem to subscribe to this doctrine and I’ve figured (for the time being) that this is only due to the amount of poverty which quite literally surrounds them. I have been advised to approach everything with a patient and open mind mainly as this is not my culture and I wish
not to become bitter about things I cannot change.
Still getting used to the currency, personal hygiene is facing an all time low and before I go to bed I will read my Bible and pray. 5 O’clock start and an 8-hour bus journey to Kisumu in the morning!
Kenya Day 1
The first day was all about the travel. It worked out at 28 hours from when I left 14 Oldtown Rd and arrived in the office in Nairobi. Some confusion on my arrival left me stranded at ‘International arrivals’ for over 4 hours before I was able to email and call back to London in order to find an address.
As usual I made friends on the flights without much problem. On the Belfast – Heathrow flight I sat with a couple who were on their way to Goa, India and seem to be seasoned travellers. They explained to me how every year they went on SKI holidays (Spending Kids Inheritance) – I told them they were just right. The Couple who where from Newtownabby gave me some tips on making my way from Terminal 1 to Terminal 3. This was found to be a rather easy task as I took the bus. Heathrow is mad – I’m nearly sure the population of Northern Ireland was packed into the duty free Dixons alone, never mind WHSmith.
The Virgin Atlantic flight was through the night and although I failed to register more than about 4 hours sleep, I did watch ‘Adventureland’ and one hour of ‘Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince’. The food was surprisingly good and filling – hats off to Richard Branson. I sat beside an American girl, Blonde, Californian, who had worked 5 years for Google (two and a half of which were in London). As we chatted, I discovered she was a Christian and attended Holy Trinity Bromton. She was friendly and certainly made the flight a lot more fun. She had a Boyfriend who ran an online dating site. (I conveniently directed her to the headline from The Times Business Section, which read ‘Man makes fortune from online dating site’ – she just smiled). Her name was Alexa and was attending an International Malaria conference in Nairobi for one week.
After the flight I paid $25 for my visa because they refused to take my Northern Bank £10 note – needless to say I was offended before I had stepped through immigration. The atmosphere was noticeably more humid, however not that warm. The ground was wet from the rain showers, which came every 30 mins and I was left with the irony that no one was there to meet me with my name on a board like I had always suggested. I hijacked the internet in the tourist booth to tap into my googlemail account to notify Christine that I had been approached by 40 men to see if I wanted to get in their taxi. She called through on my new Kenyan sim card to offer an address that would take me to the Kenyan Lawyers’ Christian Fellowship office. 1500 Kenyan shillings and 30 min drive later I was there. On Arrival, John who is in charge of the office welcomed me with open arms.
I was beginning to feel incredibly sleepy and was facing a long journey to Kisumu in the next few days. Hence, I was falling asleep at my Mac… it was only 3 p.m.
I was eventually taken back to the parents home of John Swaka, the CLEAR advocate. We watched Kenyan TV and ate at 9;30 (chicken Dish). The family is huge and live in an ‘up-market’ compound called Diamond Park. At bedtime I was faced with a mosquito net full of holes. Hence, the stuffing of toilet roll into each gap and a poor nights sleep. (I would arrive home the next day to find the family had bought a new net…I felt bad…but only a little.)
As usual I made friends on the flights without much problem. On the Belfast – Heathrow flight I sat with a couple who were on their way to Goa, India and seem to be seasoned travellers. They explained to me how every year they went on SKI holidays (Spending Kids Inheritance) – I told them they were just right. The Couple who where from Newtownabby gave me some tips on making my way from Terminal 1 to Terminal 3. This was found to be a rather easy task as I took the bus. Heathrow is mad – I’m nearly sure the population of Northern Ireland was packed into the duty free Dixons alone, never mind WHSmith.
The Virgin Atlantic flight was through the night and although I failed to register more than about 4 hours sleep, I did watch ‘Adventureland’ and one hour of ‘Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince’. The food was surprisingly good and filling – hats off to Richard Branson. I sat beside an American girl, Blonde, Californian, who had worked 5 years for Google (two and a half of which were in London). As we chatted, I discovered she was a Christian and attended Holy Trinity Bromton. She was friendly and certainly made the flight a lot more fun. She had a Boyfriend who ran an online dating site. (I conveniently directed her to the headline from The Times Business Section, which read ‘Man makes fortune from online dating site’ – she just smiled). Her name was Alexa and was attending an International Malaria conference in Nairobi for one week.
After the flight I paid $25 for my visa because they refused to take my Northern Bank £10 note – needless to say I was offended before I had stepped through immigration. The atmosphere was noticeably more humid, however not that warm. The ground was wet from the rain showers, which came every 30 mins and I was left with the irony that no one was there to meet me with my name on a board like I had always suggested. I hijacked the internet in the tourist booth to tap into my googlemail account to notify Christine that I had been approached by 40 men to see if I wanted to get in their taxi. She called through on my new Kenyan sim card to offer an address that would take me to the Kenyan Lawyers’ Christian Fellowship office. 1500 Kenyan shillings and 30 min drive later I was there. On Arrival, John who is in charge of the office welcomed me with open arms.
I was beginning to feel incredibly sleepy and was facing a long journey to Kisumu in the next few days. Hence, I was falling asleep at my Mac… it was only 3 p.m.
I was eventually taken back to the parents home of John Swaka, the CLEAR advocate. We watched Kenyan TV and ate at 9;30 (chicken Dish). The family is huge and live in an ‘up-market’ compound called Diamond Park. At bedtime I was faced with a mosquito net full of holes. Hence, the stuffing of toilet roll into each gap and a poor nights sleep. (I would arrive home the next day to find the family had bought a new net…I felt bad…but only a little.)
Chronicle Article - 3
Christmas time, mistletoe and wine, children sniffing glue out of a bottle in order to dampen the pain of hunger… no wait, that’s not how the song goes, is it? The harsh reality of the festive season in a 3rd world country cannot go unnoticed by even the least observant among us. With no food, home or family the street boys were unconcerned that Sony had dropped the prices of the new slim line Playstation 3 for 25th December.
Consumerism is generally an unknown concept here and in many ways it is refreshing that the need to buy 25 selection boxes or have a Christmas tree in every room doesn’t yet exist. However, there remains something unjust about a child who is oblivious they are living in the midst of Christmas.
Our legal aid project runs a program in a juvenile home to advise the boys that face trial for usually petty offences. Some may be guilty and some not, yet hearing their stories can be heartbreaking. I met one street kid called Joseph who at 14 had already been living on the streets for five years. His plight of having both parents passed away is not uncommon. Combine this with a bottle of glue permanently attached to his mouth and Joseph’s outlook on life becomes bleak. The government views this part of society as a nuisance and offers no welfare. It is true that one must see, smell and touch before it hits home.
I am so thankful for the social background I was born into – not everyone is that lucky!
Chronicle Article - 2
I am 99% sure the U2 line, ‘the streets have no name’ was specifically referring to Kenya and its lackluster attempt to offer directional guidance on the roads. It is simply beyond me how anyone knows what direction they are headed. Yet, this is the beauty of African society as people always appear to know where they are going, hence there is little need for a signpost. This does however cause much consternation for the newly arrived legal intern who faces a steep learning curve in navigation.
My first real experience of Kenyan travel came in the form of a six-hour bus journey from Nairobi to the picturesque lakeside setting of Kisumu. Although the trip covered the ‘best’ roads in the country, I couldn’t help thinking I was part of a Top Gear test drive. I was assured the drivers were competent and so remained opened minded until the driver passed three lorries on a tight cliff edge corner. Hence I resumed my one-foot-on-the-dashboard position, you know, the way your mother sits the first time she takes you on a driving lesson? The bus arrived in record time I must add and seemed proud of its get-out-of-the-way-or-I’ll-knock-you-down policy. Efficiency was welcome; stepping off the bus was more so.
With the fear of travel behind me, our office presented a ‘Legal Awareness’ day in a remote village somewhere in Africa. To help introduce myself I enlightened the highly interested locals of Northern Ireland’s average temperature during the month of December. Completely astonished, a man in the front row barked, ‘Then how do you grow sugar cane?’ ‘We don’t’, I replied (and laughed).
Living in a new culture can be exciting and perhaps even frustrating, yet one can always be guaranteed two things: Taxes and Coca-Cola. Thankfully I’m not required to pay taxes.
My first real experience of Kenyan travel came in the form of a six-hour bus journey from Nairobi to the picturesque lakeside setting of Kisumu. Although the trip covered the ‘best’ roads in the country, I couldn’t help thinking I was part of a Top Gear test drive. I was assured the drivers were competent and so remained opened minded until the driver passed three lorries on a tight cliff edge corner. Hence I resumed my one-foot-on-the-dashboard position, you know, the way your mother sits the first time she takes you on a driving lesson? The bus arrived in record time I must add and seemed proud of its get-out-of-the-way-or-I’ll-knock-you-down policy. Efficiency was welcome; stepping off the bus was more so.
With the fear of travel behind me, our office presented a ‘Legal Awareness’ day in a remote village somewhere in Africa. To help introduce myself I enlightened the highly interested locals of Northern Ireland’s average temperature during the month of December. Completely astonished, a man in the front row barked, ‘Then how do you grow sugar cane?’ ‘We don’t’, I replied (and laughed).
Living in a new culture can be exciting and perhaps even frustrating, yet one can always be guaranteed two things: Taxes and Coca-Cola. Thankfully I’m not required to pay taxes.
Chronicle Article - 1
Martin Luther King Jr. in his most famous speech at the steps of the Lincoln Memorial proclaimed, ‘We will refuse to believe that the bank of Justice is bankrupt’. Forty-six years later I stand on a different continent with new problems, however Luther’s ideology of Justice still stands strong.
My travels have brought me to Kenya in the heart of East Africa as part of an eight-month internship with the charity Lawyers’ Christian Fellowship. The justice system lies sweltering with the heat of injustice. In response we provide legal aid to those who are unable to pay professional fees and would otherwise be left to fend for their own rights. Embracing the vision of providing the poorest in developing societies with access to justice is a huge ask, yet the day to day imprints we embed in society has the potential to change many lives.
I landed on Kenyan soil on the 1st November ready to exchange currencies and climate. An average temperature of 30 degrees C makes for an unusual run up to the Christmas period but then again so does paying 24p for a bottle of coke. My first day was spent in court as assistant counsel for a man called Brian who had been framed for robbery. The offence carried a maximum sentence of 14 years, however after trial Brian walked free as our team exploited major flaws in the police evidence. This was a significant success for LCF and another step on the road to Justice. I had a dream and I’m living it – Thank you for all the support.
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