Friends of the Mwokoeni Children - Visits
"My two months in Kenya - by David Groves"
Since returning from Kenya I hadn't anticipated missing my Kenyan companions as much as I have. I look back on the affection of the children and recall the rapport of the teachers. I am reminded of the loving welcome I was shown there. From the first moment I arrived I felt under John Oondo, the headmasters wing, and my anxieties dissolved very quickly.
I spent my first week renewing friendships. It was brilliant to see the staff who I had spent time with in the July 2003 visit. It took about a week for my English accent to soften in a way that the Kenyan people could understand me.
My objectives over the two months stay was to be a good representative for the charity, to learn more about the reality of people living in Bombolulu and to help the charity in it's vision. I also wanted to share with the community of Bombolulu how the charity continues to work hard in England to help the children at the school. This meant me getting involved with everything at the Mwokoeni School and the village and encountering the Kenyan way of doing things, witnessing the problems of poverty and hunger and seeing the way that when conflict is resolved, a sense of greater community prevails.
My second aim was to introduce some assistance with Art and Craft and bring a touch of creativity to the faculty. I arrived with a lot of art materials but no lesson plans and I started with an unstructured timetable. However, after two weeks I had a class of 30 students and we gathered in a tin hut classroom between 2 and 4 in the afternoons. The sun was always beating down heavily at this time of the day. I was assisted by a teacher called Mr Ayara, who was quite a comedian and when he talked to the children in Swahili he often had them in stitches of laughter. I was particularly fond of him. I had hoped that by the latter stage of my time I would have a partner who could teach craft work and the children's sculptures could then have been sold. Unfortunately this didn't happen because after my fifth week I caught malaria. Although I took immediate treatment (a luxury that sadly not many Kenyans can afford), it took the wind right out of my sails. I became mellow and reflective for the next two weeks. I was also queasy and dizzy, although not too weary to go to the school. However, I did not have the energy to walk to the school so instead travelled by 'Bababoda' for 40 ksh. You have a seat over the back wheel of a bicycle. This was an excellent way of travelling. During these two weeks whilst I had malaria I stopped teaching and my relationship with the children changed and I felt more of a friend to them. I had time to sit under a big tree outside the school (the only place that has shade), and spent time talking to them and sketching them. I also spent time participating in the lessons as a pupil. I learned a lot during these two weeks and my illness turned out to be a great blessing.
When I felt better I continued with the Art classes. We did clay modelling, life modelling and there were some children who had real potential and artistic ability. One day we went outside and dragged two six feel palm tree leaves into the classroom and used them as a background for drawing. (Where in England could I have done that?) I also had a few disasters. I decided to cut all the paint brushes to a small bristle to limit the amount of paint being used. I though it would be an effective way of reducing messy mishaps! However, not many had done painting before and the wind kept blowing underneath the tin walls blowing the papers with the wet paint on. More often than not at the end of the lessons the children all had paint on their uniforms. I felt terrible since most children only own one set of uniform. However, these were washed daily.
I feel truly humbled by my experience in Kenya. It has encouraged me in many ways, and the love and support that John Oondo and the teachers gave me will always stay with me. It was an emotional time saying good-bye to them all and I thanked John at the airport for being 'my father' for the two months he looked after me.
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