Fundraising – Step One

It’s around 8 at night, and I’m sitting on my couch thinking about this junky old laptop I pieced together from scrap computers and how useful it’s been. It’s funny that my Y2K compliant computer would probably be in a dumpster right now, but instead it’s become cutting edge technology in Shimanyiro Village. Writing is therapeutic for me, but I couldn’t imagine being stuck with pen and paper. I’ve all but forgotten how to write by hand and my handwriting is terrible. So anyway, here’s the latest:

I had my first two meetings scheduled with disabled groups this week, and it was typical hit-and-miss in terms of actually getting things accomplished. The first one was on Monday in Migori, and all it all it went really well. The second meeting was scheduled for Wednesday in Kakamega, but despite all the preparation and planning it didn’t actually happen. I think everything will work out in the end but Kenya can drive you crazy if you let it.

I’ve been working this week with APDK (The Association for Physically Disabled in Kenya), an excellent organization that I plan to collaborate with for a fundraiser. If only I had gone to them first instead of wasting my time with the corruption and nonsense of Benson and KPDK. I learned a lot about accountability and trust in this country through that experience and don't want to give up on helping the disabled. Thousands of disabled people in Kenya crawl on the ground or make due with improvised walking sticks and crutches as best they can, and I want to do something to help. I’m very close to having a proposal drafted and I’ll be sending out all the details in the next few weeks. The intention of the fundraiser will be to raise money towards assisting five disabled groups with rehabilitation equipment and income generation.

The first step is already underway. APDK conducts mobile out-reach clinics where the assessments of persons with disabilities are provided, measurements are taken, and the proper supportive appliances are recommended. They are a non-profit organization, and after explaining that fundraising through Peace Corps requires a 25% community contribution, they agreed to conduct these clinics free of charge. The first mobile clinic was scheduled on Monday in Migori, and as I said it went pretty well.

Nothing here seems to go exactly as planned here, and I went into this project expecting stumbling blocks along the way. I wasn’t disappointed. With assistance from the BJCF orphan’s home, probably the most efficiently run place in this whole country, the disabled group was organized and ready by 10:00, the time APDK committed to arrive. At 11:00 APDK had still not shown up. I was a mildly irritated but not concerned. It is typical for things to start “African time”, which is generally an hour or so later than scheduled. However, by 12:00 I was getting angry. Why hadn’t they arrived? I had already committed wheelchairs to this group in the past and the project fell through, and I couldn’t stand to see it happen again. The problem with aid work in Kenya, I reasoned, is that you have to depend on Kenyans to get anything accomplished (terrible, I know, but like I said I was angry at the time). By 1:00 the anger was gone, and I was just plain depressed about everything I was trying to do. Around 1:30, as if sensing that I had finally lost all hope, the APDK truck arrived. Nobody else seemed too concerned that they were more than three hours late, and once again I had to ask why I allow myself to get stressed out when nobody else in this county gets worked up over something as petty as time.

It turned out APDK at least attempted to make it by 10. The problem was they brought a team of six in a pickup with seating for five, and there were not enough seatbelts for all 4 people in the back row. At one of the thousands of roadblocks the police lay out on any given day, this was noted by a police officer who decided to arrest the entire car. Surprisingly, he did not ask them for a bribe or write them a ticket. He simply wanted to waste their time for three hours by detaining them and harassing them a bit before letting them continue on their way.

So once they arrived things went great. The team that came to access the disabled group was top-notch, and included physical therapists, an orthopedic surgeon, and several others trained in accessing the needs of disabled people and fitting them for proper equipment. They stressed that providing the physical equipment is merely the first step, and training for economic activities such as microfinance and small business is also important. Once the disabled have mobility, APDK feels that an essential part of rehabilitation is to integrate them into the community through providing them with a means of employment and a sense of purpose. I very much like this long-term, sustainable solution. Pastor Fred, Steve James’ Kenyan counterpart in charge of operations at BJCF, was also impressed. He informed APDK that he will be happy to continue working with them and the disabled group, meaning that long after the initial funding for the equipment these people will continue receiving service and support.

The majority of people in the Migori disabled self-help group are adults, and APDK also noted how important it is to address the needs of disabled children. Oftentimes children with disabilities can wear low cost corrective shoes or undergo minor surgeries that can provide them with a lifetime of mobility without the use physical equipment. The collaboration that was made between APDK and BJCF has the potential to have a huge impact on the local community. BJCF is in the process of building a community clinic that will provide free medical care to orphans and the very poor in the area. It is due to be completed in November. At the same time, APDK is not currently working in Migori, but plans are underway to expand into the area. APDK was very impressed with the clinic and it appears as though APDK and BJCF may start working together in finding disabled children in the area and correcting their disabilities before they become lifelong problems. How great is that?

Eleven people were assessed on Monday. Several of them are requesting "business tricycles" which are equipped with a carrier, lockable box, and umbrella which allow the user to operate a small business. One man is a cobbler and another works at tailoring, so giving them the mobility to get into town where business is best, as well as a workspace for their trade, is a very good thing. One child, named Job, has Cerebral Palsy and was brought from a nearby Peace Corps Volunteer’s compound to the event. He is now connected with APDK and will receive physical therapy and medication through this organization, while with the fundraising money he can receive a wheelchair. Perhaps the most amazing story is of a woman that has been crawling on the ground for more than a decade. To my surprise she didn’t need a wheelchair at all. She has an issue with her hamstrings that can be corrected with minor surgery. Even more incredible, there is a clinic in a nearby town that provides this surgery free of charge. All that is required in terms of funding for her to regain mobility is the transport to the clinic and a brace that she needs to wear while she recovers from the operation. The total cost of providing this woman with the ability to walk after spending her entire adult life crawling in the dirt? About $15.00. Apparently this is all too common. Many children can be kept from a lifetime of disability for less than the cost of a tank of gas.

So my next meeting was scheduled for Wednesday. This disabled group was the first one I had spoken with, and I was eager to get them fitted and move along with the fundraising. I have been working with the District Officer on this project and he was excited to hear that a team from APDK was finally coming to visit this group. Earlier this month I had made a trip to Busia, about two hours away, to visit with the regional APDK office and confirm everything. I also spoke with the local social development officer to ensure everything would be in place for the event. When Wednesday came things started well. The APDK crew was supposed to arrive at 10, and unbelievable they arrived at my office at 10:00 sharp.

Then things got confusing. Apparently the District Officer had told another disabled group that an APDK crew was coming to fit people for wheelchairs. This group was waiting on benches outside, and now I found myself in a situation where an entirely unexpected group of people wanted service and were expecting me to sponsor them for equipment. I explained the situation to APDK and they agreed to evaluate the group but make no commitment to providing them with equipment. As I watched them do this I realized just how much of a demand is in this country for assistance to the disabled. After giving it some thought I decided that depending on the total amount of funding required for first four groups, perhaps I can add this one as well. I will want to make sure the source is anonymous though, because the last thing I need is people in my village realizing that I am a source of funding.

So after accessing this group we were finally able to leave for the interior village where the disabled group I intended to assist was waiting. I piled into the car with a team of five doctors and the social development officer and we were on our way. After driving for about half an hour down a bumpy dirt road we arrived at the location where the group was supposed to be waiting. When we saw that nobody was there it suddenly dawned on the social development officer that she forgot to inform the group that they were to meet today. The group consists of about 20 people living all over the place and it would have been impossible to gather them together at the last minute. Thus, the entire day was wasted and we had to reschedule. I made a comment about how difficult it is to get anything done in this country, which I felt bad about later (but not really because it’s true), but at least there is a plan B. The meeting with this group has been rescheduled for October 11^th. God willing things will work this time.

So that is my week in terms of the wheelchair project. Beyond that I met with the Kakamega Network officials in Kisumu on Tuesday to visit a medicinal garden, and I feel they were given a lot of good ideas to work with in terms of crops to promote to network farmers. Yesterday we had our monthly executive meeting, where I think it finally dawned on the officials that they have to watch their spending and start making money if the group is going to survive. I also had a chance to catch up with several volunteer friends during my travels, including some of the new volunteers working in Migori. One of them actually has a background is physical therapy and is excited about working with APDK in the future. I’m also training for a half-marathon at the end of October and I’ve been running a lot. I’m up to about 8 miles now so I still have a ways to go in a month’s time but we’ll see what happens. As for now I think I’ve written enough but I’ll post an update again soon.

One Year , Kenya Believe It?

Well it’s been several weeks since I’ve written, the reason being I’m swamped with projects and Peace Corps stuff. It’s unfortunate that when I have the most going on I also have the least time to write. Right now I’m sitting in the network office studying cash crops and need to take a breather, so I’ll try to as best I can to bring things up to date so I won’t have so much to remember the next time around.

Last week I enjoyed three days in Kisumu for mid-service medical, and I can officially say I’m both amoeba and worm free. Many of my friends didn’t fare as well, but parasites do make a good story, so I was a little disappointed to miss out on all the fun. I put off the tri-annual report required by Peace Corps until the last minute, so I had to sit in the office and type it while everyone else went out to lay by the pool. It killed me.

I made it to Kisumu just in time. I arrived in the morning and by the middle of the day all matatus in town were on strike. The same kind of shake down day I wrote about was happening again in Kisumu, and the drivers and touts decided to go on strike. Apparently the police finally came to a shocking realization that nearly all public transport in Kenya is unroadworthy. The matatu drivers, however, do not feel that they should be fined (or pay a bribe) just because their windshields are cracked, the doors fall off when opened, their mufflers are missing, the seat belts don’t work, the speed governor is mysteriously broken, the registration is outdated, the tires are bald, etc. etc. etc. Basically everyone who needed to use a matatu (I’d say that’s a good 90% of Kisumu) was out of luck, and taxis and tuk-tuks decided to triple their fares. There were a few shining examples of matatus that had either paid a hefty bribe or really and truly had nothing wrong with them, but when they attempted to drive down the road the touts and drivers of the problem vehicles threw rocks and broke windows until the roadworthy vehicles either became unroadworthy or came to the realization that a strike might not be such a bad idea. This continued for days, and we were stuck in Kisumu with no way home until Peace Corps admin finally got tired of paying for hotel rooms and gave us a ride. The good news is that we had extra time for a “one year in Kenya” celebration. Kisumu has some really great places to eat (for Kenya) and we went out for dinner and drinks and had a great time.

So allow me backtrack a bit and talk about what else has been going on. A new public health volunteer has moved close to Kakamega. Her name is Jessica and I spent the weekend before last showing her around and introducing her to other volunteers in the area. Her village wants income generating activities and I think that some of the cash crops I’ve learned about will be very useful to her project. I’m glad she’s here because so many people living near me are leaving. Adrienne, probably my best friend here, is getting a site change because of problems with her living situation and her supervisor. It looks like she’ll end up moving to the coast, which is great but means I’ll rarely see her. Another volunteer living nearby just got a site change too, and still another is in the process of trying to move. Also, the volunteer living the closest to me recently decided to go home and be with her boyfriend, so she’s gone as well, and yet another went home and was supposed to be back two weeks ago, but has yet to return. My guess is he’s not coming back.

I’m having my fair share of problems with my projects, mostly due to lack of motivation from the network or corruption. However, I think I have the best site in Peace Corps. About a third of volunteers go home early (although in my group it’s looking like half), and about another third have to get site changes, usually because of security or disagreements with their supervisor. These are things the Peace Corps recruiters fail to mention, and I’m glad to be where I am. I feel blessed that, despite the frustrations, my project is promising and nothing is so bad that I can’t tough it out. I just hope I can stay in that lucky minority of volunteers for the second half of my service.

So there’s plenty of progress being made with cash crops too. One of them, artemisia, has more potential than anything else I’ve worked with. Artemisia has very effective anti-malarial properties, and I found an organisation that is buying it from farmers for pharmaceutical use. Representatives from this company came to our network office and discussed its cultivation. They informed us that Artemisia has very good earnings potential (I calculate it to be about $400 per acre in five months time) and they are willing to sell our farmers artimesia seedlings so that we can begin growing the crop.

The reason I am interested in this crop, beyond earnings potential, is that I have been told that farmers and the local community can use the leaves as an herbal remedy for malaria. When I mentioned this to the representatives from East African Botanicals, they informed me that this is incorrect. They claim that artimesia, in unprocessed form, is dangerous for human consumption and the leaves must first be exported to Switzerland, where they are made into a medication that is then imported back to Kenya and sold at 500 shillings (around $7) per pill. This is pretty typical of the way things work here, since it makes the product (called Coartem) inaccessible to most people, where well over half are living at less that 100 shillings per day.

When I visited an organisation called World Vision/Challenge Farms in Kitale, I met a woman named Cheri who has received artimesia seedlings from an organisation called Action for Natural Medicines (www.anamed.net). She gave me volumes of information from the organisation concerning the medicinal properties of raw artimesia leaves as a low-cost and effective treatment for malaria, and she is even using the leaves in tea form to treat the children at her orphanage.

I started wondering if the reason East Africa Botanicals is discouraging unprocessed artemisia is simply to keep market demand high for their high-priced anti-malarial drugs, which is just plain evil. Then again I can’t say that my experiences in Peace Corps have done much for my opinion of human nature. I can see first hand how little is really being done to treat diseases that are endemic to areas where people don’t have a lot of money (On a related note, Constant Gardener is a great book)

I wrote the founder of Anamed, a doctor living in Germany, and he directed me to his American counterpart who gave me contact info for several people in Kenya already using unprocessed artemisia to treat malaria. I visited one of them in Kisumu, and she claims a nearly 100% success rate. I have another meeting with a doctor who has been promoting the drug next week. Also, thanks to Anamed, I have read dozens of scientific studies and press releases about the medicinal properties of the plant, as well as its apparent lack of side affects. I have concluded that everything East Africa Botanicals had to say concerning the danger of the plant was a lie. If unprocessed artemisia can act as a safe and effective anti-malarial treatment, then there is no reason it should not be encouraged throughout Africa, where malaria claims the lives of millions who cannot afford imported medicine. I have purchased seeds and have detailed instructions on cultivation, as well as proper preparation and doses for malaria treatment. Habakkuk has started a nursery for the crop and I hope to educate additional farmers soon.

I’m also making progress with the Wake Up Women’s orphans group. I have met with them several times over the past few weeks and gave them chili pepper seeds to grow as a cash crop. They also want to start a poultry project for income generation and to get eggs and protein for the kids. I have another meeting scheduled with them next week to go through all the details, including what anticipated expenses and income will be as well as how the money will be accounted for, and a Crisis Corps (basically a six month extension of Peace Corps) volunteer is living nearby and has offered to assist me. I hope to be able to get enough information to apply for grant money to assist with this project soon.

Also, I was severely disappointed in my work with Benson and the Kenya Programme for Disabled People, but I have made alternative plans and am in the process of helping several disabled groups with wheelchairs. Fundraising effort and all details coming soon! I have two meetings next week with the disabled groups and professionals who will fit them for equipment and provide me with itemized costs to finish the project. I’ll keep everyone up to date.

So enough about work. The last weekend was a lot of fun. I went on a 70 mile bike ride around the outside of the rainforest, then through the middle of the woods back into Kakamega and to my house. On the way I stopped to visit several volunteer friends and even carried a mattress on the back of my bike to drop off with my friend Seth. The ride was beautiful. It is so amazingly scenic, and there is so much that I miss driving by in a matatu. The only problem with going on bike is the “how are you?” and “give me money!” and “mzungu!” I hear constantly. At least the back way through the rainforest was peaceful, as the only people I came across were the occasional mamas carrying branches on their head. The forest was thick with clouds of butterflies and chattering monkeys filled the trees. I’m going to spend a weekend there with my tent and a good book in the near future.

So that’s the latest, now it’s time to get back to researching artemisia, coordinating the fundraiser, and drafting the grant for Wake up Women. It’s going to be a busy week, but a fulfilling one too.

Shake Down Day

Last Thursday I traveled to the nearby town of Bungoma to visit a lawyer who is working to register the Kakamega Network as a company. To reach Bungoma I take a matatu to Mumias, alight (This is a British word. It means “get out of the vehicle”), then take another matatu to Bungoma. On a good day the trip takes about an hour. It might take an hour and a half if matatus are a problem or many people alight along the way.

However, last Thursday was an exceptionally bad day for matatus. The Police decided the time had come to crack down on public transportation. This apparently consists of soliciting plenty of bribes, commonly referred to as “kitu kidogo”, or “a little something”. As my overpacked matatu neared Mumias, touts in passing vehicles began making frantic hand gestures at our driver. The message was clear: it was shake-down day. Basically every public transport vehicle on the road has some kind of violation, but I was assured that even if they are squeaky clean and brand new the police will get their kitu kidogo regardless. Our matatu driver, realizing the impending danger, immediately turned off the road and dumped the passengers.

Thus we had to walk into town, only to discover that every matatu in the area had mysteriously vanished. Shake down day for matatus means big business for boda-bodas. The only remaining option for those without a private vehicle was a bicycle taxi. We had no choice but to take a boda-boda to the next village, where we hoped matatus would be waiting. As we rode through the outskirts of town the missing matatus started to emerge. Hundreds of them were hidden behind buildings, and many more were in parking lots, raised up on jackstands, as if to imply they were out of service and not actually used on a daily basis. As we continued on our bike trek we passed the police headquarters, which was full of impounded matatus and tuk-tuks (three-wheeled taxis) that had been caught off guard.

Finally a matatu drove by, saw us on our bikes, and opened the door to hurry us into the vehicle. We piled in and thought we could continue to Bungoma with no further problems, but we were sadly mistaken. We drove just a few miles when the hand signals from passing Matatus returned. The police, realizing that matatus were no longer coming into Mumias, had set up check points on the road to Bungoma as well. However, our driver was determined. He veered off the tarmac onto a dirt road, and we went rumbling into the interior villages on a very long and elaborate route to bypass the road blocks. After traveling an additional hour out of the way we finally made it back to the tarmac road leading to Bungoma. The driver had a smile on his face, proud of himself for outsmarting the police. Then, as we waited for two matatus to pass so we could merge back onto the tarmac, we realized something was horribly wrong. Both of the passing matatus were empty except the driver, the tout, and a police officer escorting them to the station. Thus we were caught red handed by the police, who glared at us as we were emerging from our scenic route in an obvious attempt to bypass the roadblocks. The driver immediately turned in the opposite direction of the passing matatus, gunned the engine, and ducked behind a building to hide.

After some time it became clear that the police already had their hands full and did not bother to pursue us. We snuck back onto the tarmac and the driver, now fed up and complaining loudly, continued down the road. Finally, we crested a hill with Bungoma in sight. Home free? Not quite. We were taken by surprise by yet another check point waiting for passing vehicles. The driver slammed on the brakes, but with the police just ahead of him and nowhere to turn he realized he’d been caught.

At this critical moment the driver decided to take a chance. He knew that if he stopped the vehicle, all the passengers would be taken out and he would be sent to the station for considerable harassment and a substantial bribe. Instead, he had the tout stuff an envelope with money, which he threw out the window as he ignored the policemen’s demand to stop and blew past the road block.

The ploy worked. The police were too preoccupied with the bribe to bother following us, and finally, more than three hours after we started our trip, we made it to Bungoma. Unfortunately even more police were waiting at the stage, so our driver ducked behind a building yet again to empty the passengers and lay low until tomorrow.

On my return trip from Bungoma the police were no longer around. However, most of the matatus had given up for the day or were at the station. Thus, I had to ride 26 deep in a 14 seat vehicle. Thank you, Mr. Policeman, for making the roads safer. It was raining outside and the matatu was leaky and wet and smelled horrible. How they had managed to stay on the road throughout such a day was beyond me. Regardless, I made it back in one piece with a story to share. On the next shake down day I’ll be taking a cab.