Letter from Kenya: empowering women
Rosemary: Our goal was to meet with women's organizations and community agencies working toward empowering women in the area of education. We wanted to help bring back their stories, and, if possible, collaborate with them in bridging the cultural and geographical gap between Kenya and Canada.
Our first such meeting set the bar for the rest of our trip. Irene Kamau, director of Action Now Kenya (ANK), which delivers education, health care and microcredit small-business loans to women in slums and on the streets, greeted us with a smile that lit up the whole room as she served us delicious Kenyan tea. Her passion and energy for her work was contagious as she showed us her tiny office space, then took us to Kayole, a slum outside of Nairobi.
There we met a group of women trying to save enough money — 1,000 Kenyan shillings, or about $16 Canadian, each — for their group to qualify for a microcredit loan from ANK. With it, they could start small businesses in their communities such as selling snacks, braiding hair or tailoring. They wouldn't eliminate their poverty, but they would be better able to feed their children and pay for school uniforms and fees.
The meeting room was a shack with a thatched roof and wooden planks; the women sat in a semicircle on wooden benches. Bright sunlight beaming through the slats made it unbearably hot, and the whole structure shook as little children swung around one of the support poles. Irene explained that most of the women are widows; almost all are HIV positive or have AIDS.
Some are grandmothers raising grandchildren because their children have died. One held a tiny baby in her arms as three more children stood around her; she looked absolutely exhausted. Could I, approaching my 60th birthday, do this? I wondered. I tried to put myself in her place. There is no question that I would care for my grandchildren, but at this point in my life, when my husband and
I are preparing for retirement, it is hard to imagine.
It had been three months since the women had begun saving what they could in their locked blue metal boxes. As Irene's colleagues, Agnes Mutuku and Judith Okwengu, opened each box in turn the room was anxious and quiet — each woman holding her breath as her shillings were counted.
One by one, the women who had collected the 1,000 shillings relaxed. But those who were short a few shillings were devastated. One of the older grandmothers was sure she'd had enough, but said her son must have managed to get the money out of the box. One had not been able to save anything — she barely had enough to feed her children.
Page 2 of 4
