December 4, 2024

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Would I Dare Go to Kenya Again Travelling, Teaching and Lecturing, Risking the Various Dangers?

These three weeks in Kenya last month were filled with the usual excitement, adventure, and demanding emotional and spiritual challenges, but various questions arose, on this my fourth visit to Africa in five years.

The main reason for returning to Kenya, was to teach at Pastors and Leaders Seminars and Conferences in Nairobi, Kisumu and Bungoma. Attendances were good. These men make such a real effort to gather together and they expect a lot. With three one and a half hour sessions each day they always gave the impression that they wanted more. They even requested an extra day which was not possible to do.

Being based that first week in Nairobi’s East African School of Theology was a real bonus, as I met each evening with students who just bombarded me with questions, and I learned a lot from them about how hard they had to work to finance a term at College. The small-ish College Campus is situated some four miles east of the city centre in a development district and surrounded with supermarkets, banks and cyber cafes.

Never before, in over forty years of ordained ministry, have I spoken to such a group. I had been taken to Mathare in northern Nairobi, one of the worst slums in Kenya. No one told me what it was like prior to my going there. Around half a million people are crammed into this appalling shanty town. The dusty potholed roads are narrow with young men drunk on the illicit hooch they brew by the burn. Some were on drugs and the driver had to take avoiding action to miss quite a few.

I was visiting a project for the ‘homeless’. I do not know what being ‘homeless’ means in that setting. On seeing the shacks in which thousands live what does ‘homelessness’ mean? On entering a tiny room, a group was busy at embroidery, beadwork, and making soap, in a desperate effort to make a little money.

The two Pastors working full-time in this area then drove me to a Polytechnic where I spoke to 200 recovering alcoholics and rescued prostitutes.

I had a letter published in “The Standard” regarding Mathare. There are structures in place, with responsible leaders, who with a little extra financial help could do much more rapidly.

Not even the Pastors would dare go out alone in Mathare at night, as they would be mugged and cell phones, cash, watches would be taken. Even shoes are removed from the victim and sold. If neighbours witness this, the gang would be stoned. They appear to have their own justice. The Police? They do not enter Mathare after dark!

A visit to Kibos Prison had been arranged. Having met and prayed with the Governor, himself an orphan who has worked hard, I went to speak with 200 prisoners on ‘death row’. The Chaplain was with me to act as interpreter, but these men have their own Pastor – a prisoner who is also serving life for murder.

Five prisoners dressed in ‘zebra’ suits rose to give part of their testimony. Their words were genuinely moving. They too expected a message of at least an hour. A second ‘Service’ for those sentenced for lesser crimes took place under the trees in the exercise yard. Guards with guns kept careful watch, but these men appeared to have come to terms with their imprisonment.

Prisoners in Kenya receive neither toilet paper nor soap. I took in boxes of soap explaining that soap washes the outside and the Blood of Jesus Christ washes the inside. The men exploded in applause.

As when ministering in Porterfield Prison in Inverness, Scotland, each week, one always has to remember that there are victims outside.

Visiting the Schools and Orphanages is another emotional tug. The children are so well behaved. They apply themselves and study hard in difficult conditions and the teachers can never be sure of being paid at the end of each month.

I then had a week in Kisumu, on the beautiful Lake Victoria, staying in the comparatively safe Nyanza Club, a former colonial establishment, which still has that former aura very visible.

The journey north west from Kisumu to Bungoma took much longer than planned. The matatu driver decided to take another route to avoid the potholes on the main road, but for miles the tarmac surface had been ripped up and progress was slow as we made our way along a dust track.

On the return journey south, I suggested we attempt the main road. It was bad but not quite as bad as had been described.

However, there were five police roadblocks where the driver was expected to give a little money to speed him on his way. I rolled down the window as we approached the first roadblock. “Good afternoon. Kenya police keeping the roads safe? My son is a police sergeant in Scotland.” “On your way sir. Enjoy Kenya.” At the subsequent roadblocks the voices in the back of the matatu whispered, “Pastor Sandy, roll down your window!” The driver told me I had saved him five or six hundred shillings that day. I was later informed that the officers back at the Police Station expect a cut of the day’s takings and if it is below a certain figure these officers are delegated a different duty next morning.

I wondered what the driver’s main reason was for taking the dustbowl route?

Kenya experienced political and tribal upheaval at the start of the year. Thousands were killed.

Roads were seriously damaged during what is called the ‘skirmishes’, in January and February. Tyres, placed on virtually every road, were set alight, melting the surface, and the torrential rains have done the rest.

Businesses have been ruined and many houses burned down. The centre of Kisumu, where many fine structures had been torched, is still in the process of being re-built.

How do these people live? Prices have risen dramatically in the past two years.

People earn around £3 a day ($5). Life is tough sitting out in the equatorial sun for 12 hours trying to sell your produce. A pastor’s wife, living in Nairobi’s Kariobangi slum, works as a ‘caterer’, preparing the meals in a Primary School. She walks five kilometres, and then takes two busses to reach the school, reversing the journey at night. Her wage is under £3 ($5) a day.
The men harvesting sugar cane on the Mumias plantation near Bungoma work from 8am ’til around 5pm in scorching sun to earn just over £2 ($4) a day.

Listening to the excellent BBC’s World Service programmes on Africa was highly informative.

Africa is in turmoil. One Economics Commentator remarked that the seriousness of the financial crisis which was being felt in America and Europe just now would hit businesses in Africa in three month’s time. Whatever might that mean?

People in Nairn had given me money and I can report that that money reached the front line of need, being left in the hands of those who could be trusted to use it responsibly.

This was travel and adventure of the highest quality, with various dangers and risks, particularly when I was out teaching in ‘the bush’, miles from any medical help had it been required, but during these three weeks I did not even need a paracetamol. Would I do it again? Would I go one more time? Of course I would – if the conditions and circumstances were just right!

Sandy Shaw.