Nzuri Sana

[Very well] This post is a mixture of amazing things to share, and also a really scary thing that happened to me recently. The scales are always balanced it seems.

So, as of Thursday, our CEO, Jacqueline Novogratz, has been visiting the Nairobi office - a much anticipated visit with many events planned. I think the best thing about her visit so far has been the bird's eye view of our jobs, and company, that interacting with her facilitates. The minutia of your day to day work becomes a little irrelevant when you get to see just what exactly it's impact means, or doesn't mean.

Every day so far has brought something unexpected - fun nights out with the team + others, meeting new friends, EMBARASSING MOMENTS (that shall not be documented here), lonely moments of doubt, and absolutely humbling moments. I think one of the most incredible moments I have to share was the event on Friday, in Kibera. Kibera is Nairobi's largest, and Africa's second largest slum. I heard a comparison where it is roughly the size of Central Park but with ~1.2 million people living in it. I do know that it is less than 1% of Nairobi by area, but accounts for over 25% of its population.

Though I am yet to explore the deeper interiors of Kibera, I have seen enough to know that it is both everything you'd expect, and nothing at all. Open sewage, hastily erected tin and tarp homes crammed together, scantily clad kids running around and every other cliched CNBC image you can remember is true. At the same time, there is so much unseen and untapped. I have been faced with my own ignorance of not realizing just how much sheer talent lies within these slums as well, and how the only difference between that talent and yours or mine is the fact that someone has validated ours. Of course we've always known that there is no difference between us all, but to be confronted with it in a package that we thought only we could present, was humbling to say the least.

What do I mean? Well, to start with, some background. Jacqueline wrote a book (The Blue Sweater) detailing her life story thus far, ultimately ending with the formation of the Acumen Fund. I myself am actually only half way through the book, but already am realizing just how much experience it takes to get something right. And I don't mean 5 years in your cubicle type of "experience", but dynamically evolving, draining, what-if-i-can't-make-it-through-this type of experience. A member of the Acumen Fund staff shared this book with Alex, a cleaner at our office here in Nairobi, who lives in Kibera. Alex, after having read the book, was so inspired and took it upon himself to start a Blue Sweater book club, where with friends who he passed the book along to would discuss the book, and ideas within it. Subsequently, when Jacqueline visited Nairobi on Thursday, an event was planned for Friday for her to speak to members of this book club, and other interested people in the villages that constitute Kibera (there are 14). Here is an actual video of Alex, at the Acumen office in Nairobi, talking about some of his thoughts after reading the book: 

So, Alex gave the introductory speech on Friday as well, and I just have to quote some of it here because it was so genuine, so moving, and incredibly well written. I've omitted a few sections of the speech "[.....]", and have bolded some of my favorite sentences:

Leaders are born, are never created as mongers are.
When the going gets touch, the touch get going.
Winners never quit, for quitters never win

 [........] I'm Alex Sunguti, a young man who has lived up to the challenges from the sprawling slums of Kangemi. Today I'm here to share with us an idea and a guest that can make us realize our position and role in changing the world.

[........] Our action and inaction touch people every day across the globe, people we may never meet or know. The rich are reminded to support the poor by all means, to create hope for their future. Above all, they should respect the poor and stand with them wherever and whenever.

I may not share the same experience with Jacqueline, but her story inspires me a lot. I didn't make it to advanced education. I was told to join one of the various arms of the government - Kenyan Army, Police, Navy, Security, among others, but I haven't gone through. It's not that I don't qualify, but that I don't have the money to bribe. People bribe to get a well paying job. What about the poor who have no money to bribe but have a huge potential to transform the world?

Tribalism and nepotism are yet other barrier's to one's goal in life. [........] Let us join hands and solidly agree that poverty is not permanent; it's something we have created and in the same way we can rid it away if we mean it. As I sit down I take this occasion to remind you that it's a New Year. Let us be new.

[........] We must live with discipline and accountability. There is no currency like trust, no catalyst like hope. As Robert F. Kennedy said: "Few will have the greatness to bend history itself; but each of us can work to change a small portion of events and in the total of all of those acts will be written the history of this generation". 

Alex wrote his completely on his own. These are his words, and his thoughts. Alex wasn't the only one who surprised me, and overwhelmed me. Dickson, Chris, Dennis, Jeremiah, Kevin - they are all residents of Kibera, but are also members of the book club who had completely organized Friday's event in Kibera with the help of an ex-Acumen Fund Fellow. Yes, you can admit you knew they always had potential, but guess what, they arrived at that potential without the help you did - without your university education, without your bulge bracket bank training, and without your networking shmoozing. Maybe the value of the experiential education can weigh more afterall, but until we, as the public value it equally, they won't be given their fair shot.

Quite honestly, I'm still working on how to learn what I learn, and experience what I have, without tinges of guilt or shame. They don't need guilt or shame, they don't ask for it, and it doesn't even help. It's short lived, somewhat selfish, and inconsistent.

Saturday, I spent my day with some of the interesting people I had met on Friday. I went back to Kibera after getting REALLY LOST (surprise surprise Manasa) and switching several matatus. Later in the evening I went to another Acumen event - The Ripple Effect (a project focused on funding pilot projects that aim to find solutions of providing water solutions as a basic need). Ended up the night with good company, good live music at a fun local place. Sunday I rested my brain and indulged in the Sunday blues (apparently they occur no matter what your job is?).

Now, onto the slightly more scary incident. (I'm trying to employ the method of talking about this so it scares me a little less, but in reality, I was absolutely terrified, and may or may not be procrastinating sleeping tonight because of it) So, my studio apartment is a ground floor apartment of a gated and secure compound. However, the layout is such that my apartment's back wall is alongside the end of the entire compound. This back wall has an alley on the outside, and my apartment on the inside (about 6 inches between my window and the wall of the compound). 

As I've mentioned, Nairobi is not exactly the safest place after dark, and in the time since I have been here, I have never been outdoors after dark alone even once. I'm also usually dropped home or picked up, and haven't ventured out anywhere alone even in a car. Anyways, at around 4:30 AM, in the alley right behind my window (on the other side of the wall) - I hear the most shrill screams you could ever imagine and immediately woke up to them. They were coming from a woman who was screaming at the top of her lungs, and were followed by loud sobs. A few seconds later, I hear a car door close (like a minivan door sliding) and a car accelerate away extremely fast. I was so scared. Not only was all of this happened right on the other side of the wall, but the wall wasn't very high, and my window is just on this side, practically visible. There are bars on the window, and some barbed wire on the wall that were mildly comforting, but needless to say, I remained frozen, and unable to sleep for hours. My mind raced through all of the possibilities, and every sound was terrifying. I was too scared to even move the 7 feet to my front door where I could have gotten the guard's attention. Eventually, I did fall asleep, was late to work, and tried to shake just what had happened. It still is with me a little.

I feel like last night was also a little mini-jerk back into reality. This isn't just an exotic getaway where you "find yourself". This is the real world, and real experiences, with real dangers. So many times, especially while living this expat life (read: bubble) you forget to connect to the place where you really are. In only 2 weeks I can already feel that possibility. With little exposure with real, every day life (one of the reasons I love taking the matatu to work is that very exposure), it's easy to live in a city, and never really even know it. Of course, I know I will continue to be increasingly careful as well. To an extent, things like last night also makes me appreciate the stories behind the strength of people like Alex - because this isn't just an incident that happens once in their life - this is their life, and they rise above it.

Regardless, I am reflective enough after one incident, so dear universe, can we not have any more please? My heart thanks you.

Okay, that is all from me today. Lots of love, as always. Thanks for reading. Xoxox.

Picture of the organizers, from Acumen and Kibera at the Book Club Event: