A Day in the Life in Kisumu

The day after our Longonot hike, I woke up early to catch a 7AM Akamba bus to Kisumu. I was heading to Western Kenya to see a different part of the country and to visit friends of Catherine’s, Fred & Betty, who run a guest house out of their home in the Tom Mboya neighborhood of Kisumu.

The ride was beautiful, passing through Kericho’s tea farms, rolling hills, forests, rivers, and even some kind of parade (complete with marching bands and banners).

Staying with Fred & Betty allowed me an opportunity to step outside of the NGO/expat bubble and tag along on a day in the life of Fred and see a very different Kenyan city.

We started our day confronting one of the top of mind issues for most Kenyans, petrol. Petrol (gas) prices have been rising fast, a driving force behind Kenya’s TK inflation rate. The first gas station we arrived at was out of petrol, but as we were driving out Fred stopped short at the sight of a hawker with two love birds in a cage.

“Parrots!” he exclaimed gleefully. Fred and Betty have a large birdcage in his back yard, and Fred had been in the market for parrots for some time. A quick negotiation in Swahili and 700 shillings later, Fred was the proud owner of the love birds.

Unfortunately, while we were trying to unwrap a piece of hair from one of the bird’s legs and fix some things in its tiny, temporary cage, one love bird escaped. Fred looked so sad it broke my heart … but rather than dwell, we pushed forward with our day setting out on an exploration of Kisumu town, a combination of running errands with Fred and doing touristy things for my benefit. I cheerfully told Fred that I was sure we could find the hawker and buy him more parrots.

Kisumu was created in 1901 as the end of a colonial railway line to transport the colonial spoils across Lake Victoria. The rail station is still lively with loud, tropical music piped out onto the platforms where two guards sat and several men were working the tracks with pick axes to remove rather large weeds from the rocky terrain. However, train service was suspended a few months back for money trouble.

While all of Kenya has struggled since January’s election violence, Kisumu was an area especially hard hit, long a stronghold of Raila Odinga’s Luo tribesmen. We passed by several burned out buildings as we drove through town, although honestly at this point it was difficult for me to understand what destruction was a result of the violence and what was a result of poverty and neglect.

Fred and Betty helped me understand however, explaining which roads were completely impassable (the two biggest, and many of the smaller) and showing me which buildings had been on fire, which buildings were owned by Kikuyus and therefore targeted by looters, and which buildings were safe, either because of effective infrastructure or Luo ownership. This video is from the Nation Media Group, Kenya's largest and most respected news organization.

From Catherine’s blogs it seems that the impact of the violence was severe, so I was glad to see it looking back to what I can only presume is closer to normal. At our first stop, a carpenter’s shop (a shack along the side of the main drag through town with a partially finished bed out front), I attracted about a dozen boys aged 4 to 8 who proceeded to run screaming from me any time I made eye contact or took a step towards them, but would slowly creep closer and closer to observe me closer immediately once I stopped looking. As is often the case with Kenyan children, they were fascinated by my whiteness (I am unequivocally white in Kenya), calling me mzungu and chanting over and over, “How are you?”

After showing the carpenter a picture on Fred’s computer of the bird cage he would like built and drawing some crude dimensions in a notebook, we continued on our way.

In order to be able to conduct official business with the bank, Fred required a stamp with his business name and address. Fred had provided the name and design earlier in the week but needed to “pick” the finished product. (In Kenya, pick is almost never used with a preposition – taxis pick you, you pick groceries while you are running errands.)

Back in the center of town, the most western looking part of the city with large commercial buildings, mostly housing banks, Fred and I approached a row of micro-entrepreneurs set up at small tables lining the pavements (sidewalks). After the shoe-shine guy we stopped at a table where a man was handling what looked like recycled tires and small scraps of wood. The stamp store, of course. Fred selected a piece of wood, and the proprietor affixed the small piece of rubber with Fred & Betty’s hotel name to the bottom. Ksh75, and a day, and Fred and Betty are official!

Around the corner from the stamp store was the petrol station where we had found the man with the parrots the day before. So we returned to try to find some more. The man was not there, but of course the other hawkers (selling locks and other assorted gadgets on a blanket next to the convenience store) knew exactly who we were looking for, and in typical Kenyan fashion, immediately jumped on a bike to go find him and deliver Fred’s message.

As I mentioned in a previous entry, there is a strong code of conduct that often fills the role that formal rules play in the US. This young man could not have jumped on his bike more quickly when we expressed interest in the birds -- even though the transaction did not involve him -- because there was a deal to be done and it was his obligation to make it happen. He brokered the entire deal (and likely got some compensation from the bird hawker for it) including transporting the parrots, handling the negotiating, and collecting the money. In a curio market, if you are talking to one vendor, generally you won't be approached by another until you've completed your first transaction. And outside of business it happens as well. Adults will feel entitled and comfortable scolding and directing children other than their own, and sometimes even adults.

But I'm realizing that this informal structure, while often surprisingly effective and efficient, has its failings. Fred had to instruct the carpenter several times on the construction of the birdhouse before finally saying, "Just rebuild it," turning what he thought would be an afternoon's project into a project over multiple days. A lack of effective formal structures certainly contributed to the inability to prevent and control the post-election violence, and most certainly has hampered the government's ability to rebuild post-violence. Informality only works insofar as the participants are willing to be involved and play their roles, and often in the face of violence or temptation, it is easy for the citizen to opt out. Just today I learned that a friend was mugged in downtown Nairobi, at dusk in the middle of acrwded street, and no one helped.

Modernization, increasingly complicated, dispersed, and diverse populations mixing in ways that are new and different breaks down a lot of the fabric and traditions that keeps informally organized societies functioning. I think the US confronts many of the same challenges, but they are no easier for being more obvious in Kenya.