Finding Peace in Kenya   By Margi Ness  

In the blink of an eye, the melodic, joyful singing and dancing gave way to screaming sirens. Like stampeding wildebeests, people ran in every direction, their faces frozen in fear. I didn't know what they were running from or where they were going, but I joined them. My throat constricted and I couldn't breathe, but I kept running toward the house where my daughter was staying in hopes of finding her and getting her to safety. The sirens grew louder and I ran faster. Should I try to find shelter for myself in the buildings I was passing or keep running? My chest tightened.  

I woke up shaking and sweating. I had been in Kenya for only two weeks and the stress was already getting to me. My dream symbolized what my traveling companions and I had been hearing day after day as we met with women from rural areas around the country. Their stories are of chaos and fear, poverty and suffering. The stories unfolded through a process developed by Circles of Ten: Women for World Peace, in which each person shares when they feel peaceful, when they don’t feel peaceful, and what courageous act they commit to do to bring peace to their lives by the next time they meet. There were consistent themes in the Circles: neighbor children didn’t have enough to eat; family members died of malaria because medication was not available or was too expensive; domestic violence against women was rampant; the number of street children, orphaned by parents who died of AIDS, was increasing - over 1/3 of the population in some areas; widows were beaten, thrown out of their homes, and lost their livelihoods and often their children because they refused to marry their husband’s brother; women were forcibly “circumcised” (female genital mutilation), often with dirty knives that gave them HIV; jobs were unavailable, with unemployment at 60%; women with HIV/AIDS, contracted from their husbands or rape, were shunned, losing their jobs and homes; forced marriage of young girls in exchange for a few cows.  

Confronted by the unimaginable difficulties facing Kenyan women and children, I was not surprised to learn that people with disabilities face extreme hardships. It is considered a family shame to have a child with a disability and many are rarely allowed to leave their home. With a government in complete poverty, federally funded assistance of any type for people with disabilities is practically non-existent.  

Despite this, many astute, tenacious women and a few courageous men are finding ways to change the repressive aspects of their culture, help those in most need, and improve the lives of Kenyans and, by example, of all Africans. I came to learn that the African story is not one of despair, but one of hope.  

My first venture out of Nairobi was to Kiserian, a small town 40 kilometers from the city center, where I visited Mugima, a boarding school for Maasai girls, and Tania, a boarding home and school for disabled kids and orphans. Like most of the helping services in the country, both were begun and are being operated by caring individuals. These people have seen the injustices around them and are using their own often meager resources, but seemingly boundless energy, to address them. Mugima provides an education and safe haven for about twenty girls in danger of forced early marriage (under 12), rape, and/or female genital mutilation. Several mothers sneak their daughters to the school at risk of beatings from their husbands who feel an education is wasted on girls and want to keep the girls for the dowries they bring. Our visit was during school break so only eight of about twenty of the resident girls were there. The beautiful, happy girls showed us around the grounds which consisted of one large dorm with two lines of bunk beds, two classrooms, a sparsely equipped computer room and library, a recreation room, a garden, and a very basic kitchen. Emily, the director, and James, a member of the board, joined in the tour and were justifiably proud of the girls and their accomplishments. James’ primary request was for books about peace written at the grade school level.  

We left Mugima and headed for Tania Integrated Rehabilitation Center, a few minutes away. Tania is "a home for rehabilitating the disabled children, street children, orphans and Maasai girls rescued from early marriages. The main aim is to provide education, shelter, food and love to the less privileged children in our society. Whilst our children are busy learning and growing, we then turn to the homes from where they come (especially the disabled). We listen and learn from parents as well as counseling them on the progress of their children. We also hope to change the attitudes of the community towards the disabled children, orphans, and the girl child through talks, seminars and workshops...."  

Tania serves 108 children, with 58 as residents. The school was started by Jennifer, a woman who, like her husband, had taught special education. In 2000, their daughter asked if her girlfriend could live with them because it was the only way the girl could attend school. They agreed, and the girl graduated. Surprised at her success, the girl's family asked if another daughter could live with the couple. The couple had to refuse because they had moved but they realized the need and decided to help in a bigger way: by creating Tania. There are no separate classrooms for children with disabilities. The ten volunteer teachers sign as they teach, so deaf children learn beside their hearing friends. In one class, a deaf child got the highest grades which made the staff very happy with their mainstreaming philosophy.  

As I traveled around the country in the weeks that followed, I learned more about the difficult situations across the country and about the miraculous volunteer efforts to address them. I returned to Nairobi for the Women’s International Grassroots Peace Congress. I did not expect to hear much about people with disabilities at the three day Congress. I was wrong.  

The Congress was attended by 200 grassroots women and a few men from 12 countries. Many had never left their villages before and needed financial assistance to come. For the first time in their lives, there was a forum to share their life experiences. Though their stories were ones of struggle and discrimination, their spirits were strong and the desire for self determination clear.  

One of the Congress workshops was led by Dr. Noraidah Mahari Atkin with the Australian High Commission. Noraidah volunteers with the Kenyan Paraplegic Organization (KPO). KPO's vision states "there is life after spinal cord injury." The vision is new to Kenya. Seventy-five percent of paraplegics die within five years of their accident and the remaining 25% incur losses that reach far beyond their paralysis. Rather than try to accommodate the needs of former employees, people who become disabled are fired, joining those who are born with disabilities. They are often shunned by family and friends and are unable to get around because of nation-wide inaccessibility. Noraidah and members of KPO had to convince staff at the hospital treating people with spinal cord injuries that counseling was needed for these accident survivors. Now, with KPO's help, changes are happening. Counseling is common for paraplegics and is also available for family and friends. Training has also been provided for hospital staff including stress management, communication, and occupational therapy. Support groups have been formed for survivors, their families, and caregivers. For the first time, survivors are receiving recreational and educational programs and daily living skills.  

Bright Ambeyi, an appropriately named woman who became a paraplegic eight years ago following a car accident, asked what having a disability has to do with peace. For all of us, she said, peace begins within. Following a debilitating accident like hers, people suffer from poor hygiene and low self-esteem. They lose their jobs and can't protect themselves. With counseling and support, people are regaining their self-esteem, purpose in life, and will to live. They are regaining their inner peace.  

Other people described their paths toward inner peace. Mary Mwangangi was hurt in a car accident. She was temporarily unable to walk but, after strenuous therapy, now walks with difficultly. As Traffic Commandant for SaferKenya, Mary was embarrassed to come forward because her injury resulted from not wearing a seat belt. At the last minute she decided to testify because she thought about the many people she had met whose disabilities were more severe than hers who were having fun and participating in life. It was a turning point for her.  

Abe Misanuu, a quadriplegic since a 2002 accident, and his wife Betty talked about their life since his accident. Neither could work because she had to become his full time caregiver. Betty described a typical day getting Abe into a chair, bathing him, getting him to therapy, and turning him every two hours at night to avoid bed sores. They talked frankly about his toileting needs and they demonstrated how he is learning to feed himself. I was struck by the lack of knowledge most people in the audience had of this, including Americans, and by the need for more education globally.   Although titled a Women's Peace Congress, peace loving men were not excluded. Julius Karanja and a friend used to buy donuts for two children with mental disabilities in their home town of Machakos. According to Julius, people with disabilities are seen as bad omens, and are kept home. Mentally disabled and deaf girls are often raped. Julius and his friend knew there were more disabled children in town and they wanted to help. They invited experts from the Ministry of Education to visit Machakos and evaluate the needs of the children with disabilities. Signs were put up announcing "Assessment Day." To everyone's astonishment, sixty-seven children appeared and were determined to need schooling. Like so many other peace makers in Kenya, Julius and his friend responded to the need by founding and personally financing a boarding school, Vyulya Youth Polytechnic. The school has taken 20 of the children and the remainder were referred to other institutions according to their needs. Vyulya is for children 14 and older, many of whom had never attended school. The morning provides professional training in an integrated setting including leather work and shoe making, knitting and needlework, and dressmaking. The afternoon is for formal education and is not mainstreamed. Since the program began, five disabled students have graduated and five more will at the end of the year. This has had a profound impact on the attitude of the children’s families. Previously embarrassed to even acknowledge the existence of a disabled family member, parents and the community at large are beginning to recognize and value their unique abilities.  

Following the Congress I visited Bright Ambeyi and other staff at the National Spinal Injury Hospital. Asked what the biggest problem is for people with disabilities, the unanimous response was society's negative attitude. Employment and educational opportunities are, with very few exceptions, non-existent. If there are schools, they are not government supported. The government has no budget to assist with the education and could not even estimate what the education would cost because they have no idea how many people with disabilities there are.

 

The second biggest problem identified is the lack of accessibility. Not one public bus in the country is accessible and buildings are not accessible. Wheelchairs are scarce and only last for 2 - 3 years because the surfaces of the streets are so rough.   Richard Keana, a Hospital therapist, says that some patients fear being discharged because life has changed so much. Most people are confined to one place and have no social life. For those who venture out, there is a real danger from thugs and sex offenders.  

With organizations like the Kenyan Paraplegic Organization and the incredible efforts of innumerable volunteers, Kenya is moving forward. In 2003 the Persons with Disabilities Act was passed but it has not been implemented. A new constitution was voted on in November 2005 which would have given equal rights to women, people with disabilities, elderly, and children. Though it was defeated, awareness was raised. Public debate has begun among people with disabilities, politicians, building designers and other stakeholders.  

As many Kenyans say, it is good to keep good culture but not all culture is good. Meetings like the Peace Congress are giving voice to the voiceless, a critical step in ridding the world of bad culture. With each new voice, we are drawn closer to peace. It is time to speak out against injustice at home and abroad. Only then will we have true peace.