Kiva Stories from the Field

I’ve been in Nairobi since last Wednesday evening. Eb-F opened a new Unit here about three months ago. On Thursday we moved to a more permanent and bigger office and have just been getting settled. Friday I was able to go to the field – Kibera Slums. A lot of what I could write about Nairobi has already been covered really well by Kerry in other entries but I just wanted to share a quick few thoughts:

- Nairobi traffic is absolutely horrendous. It’s worse than any city I’ve ever seen in the US, except maybe Los Angeles.

- Al-Jazeera news gets a terribly unfair rap in the Western media. It’s one of the five channels I get on my tv in my hotel room and I have found it incredibly well-done. It’s informative, unbiased and just plain good objective journalism. This morning I watched a really good half-hour interview with the UN’s Shashi Tharoor. I’ve seen really solid coverage on US illegal immigration stories, Latin American development, floods in India and Bangladesh, Middle East coverage, etc. I’d say that it’s better than just about every tv news media in the US. A friend of mine spending the summer in Cairo doing his thesis research agreed with me.

- This follows up on what Kerry noted about the Kibera slums – that despite being a sprawling complex of slums of mud houses and horrendous roads, many people living there are relatively well off. They have TVs and electricity and are doing pretty well. Jaji Barlet, the Eb-F Business Development Officer for Nairobi raised some interesting points to me. First, he said there are over 220,000 NGOs and community development organizations working in the Kibera slums. If that’s true, then what has gone wrong, or rather what is going wrong? Why are they still slums? Another really interesting thing was his harangue against Playstation 2. As we walked through the slum streets, we saw a few places where kids could go and pay to play Playstation and other video game consoles. He said that a lot of kids now spend more time playing games than working on their studies, and that they invariably do much worse in school since the introduction of such Western technology and recreation.

So I’m in the home stretch of my time as a Kiva Fellow. I’ll be returning to New York next week. I have mixed emotions about this – it will be wonderful to see my family and friends again, to enjoy American efficiency and hot water and not eat barbecued red meat with every meal, but the past several weeks have been an undeniably instructive, formative and remarkable experience for me.
Last Thursday night was my last in Nakuru, the town where Ebony’s head office is. I went to dinner that night with the whole staff. We spent several hours at the restaurant, dancing to the spirited Kenyan music played by the live band. At one point everyone went around saying goodbye to me – it was truly touching. I did my best to express my thanks and gratitude, for how hospitable and welcoming they have all been, but also for the work that they are doing. I find it humbling to have worked with so many talented people dedicated to helping their fellow man, a sentiment that I often find lacking in my life back home. I assured them that I would be back, and I meant it – I have every intention of returning to Kenya within the next few years.

On Friday James (Eb-F’s director) and I went to Nairobi where we briefly met up with the Nairobi Unit. They were attending the graduation of their latest batch of clients. As part of the loan process, Ebony provides its clients with a three-week business skills crash course. Clients learn everything from accounting to marketing, skills that will help them better utilize their loan and improve their enterprises. Ebony has partnered with the University of British Columbia’s Sauder School of Business to help teach these courses. A professor and her MBA students come to Kenya to teach side-by-side with Ebony’s staff.

In the evening we boarded a short flight to Mombasa, one of Kenya’s biggest cities. It’s on the coast, overlooking the Indian Ocean. It’s a major shipping port for not only Kenya, but East Africa in general. Upon landing I immediately noted that the stereotypical African weather I had been expecting was here – it was hot, humid and sticky. The other day, it was easily 75 or 80 degrees by only 10 am! What’s remarkable is that right now it’s winter in Kenya, meaning that come December, the weather here is much much hotter.

Ebony just recently opened a new Unit here. It’s been in operation for a little over three weeks now and is staffed by just two people, Jane and Mike. They have begun extending credit in what Eb-F terms is Benki Yetu program. This loan scheme is centered around small amounts and is given to groups of five only. Repayment is daily, usually about 100 shillings, and lasts for a maximum 45 days. Groups that successfully repay their first loan graduate to two higher levels within Benki Yetu. If they continue repaying on time, they can then access the higher credit schemes that Ebony offers.

Mombasa is a beautiful city, right on the ocean. At most times during the day and especially at night there’s a refreshing sea breeze floating through the city. The city proper is actually an island, directly off the mainland, connected by a bridge and a ferry system. Right away I got the sense that it was much more of a city than Nakuru. It’s not as big as Nairobi, but sufficiently large and with bigger avenues, more traffic, more high-rises, etc. There’s a strong Muslim and Arab influence in the city, something that is noticeable not only by the Muslim-inspired architecture of many buildings but also simply by the sheer number of women in traditional burqa coverings. The city is also very old and was one of Kenya’s first contact points with Europeans. The Portuguese established a port here as early as 1593 when they built Fort Jesus, a structure that is still standing today. It’s now a historical site and museum, and I was lucky enough to visit. Over the next several centuries Mombasa was held by Arabs from Oman, British, etc.

The city is also naturally a huge tourist attraction, owing to its beautiful beaches. I’ve seen a lot more foreigners on the streets than I ever would in Nakuru. An interesting (yet sad and disturbing) phenomenon is the prevalence of prostitution in Mombasa. Nearly every club/restaurant/bar (they are all the same) I have been to is filled with women of various ages who are hookers. Their industry is fueled by the wealthy white men (mainly Europeans) who come here on vacation looking for a good time. In talking with Jane and Mike I learned that a lot of the women working as prostitutes stay in school only long enough to learn conversational English, Italian and German, then drop out and become prostitutes. It’s an unbelievably sad state of affairs.

A corollary to this is the pretty large number of Europeans (men AND women) who come here “looking for love.” These are people who are clearly of means and who are all a minimum of 40 years old, some much older. I see them all over town and on the beach, strolling hand in hand with young Kenyan men and women, locals who look barely out of their teens.

I leave this afternoon for Nairobi, where I’ll be working with that Unit. I’ll be visiting Kiva clients who are mainly based in the Kibera slums. I’m there until I head home next week.

Well I have been here for over a month now and have a little less than a month left. I can’t believe so much time has passed already. Next week I will be taking some time off from my Fellow duties to visit Tanzania with some family. Then I return to Nakuru for a week. After that I will travel to Eb-F branch offices in Mombasa and Nairobi.

So it’s been a while since I’ve written. It’s going to be easiest to go with the bullet/list format I went with in my last entry. It’ll be a mix of recapping certain days/events and just random thoughts/observations. Enjoy.

• The weekend of July 6, the entire staff of Ebony Foundation went on a staff retreat / team building session to Maasai Mara, one of the biggest national reserves in Kenya. It’s located on the border with Tanzania, and when you cross over to that country you are in the Serengeti. Every Ebony employee came, not just from the head office here in Nakuru but also from branches in Nairobi, Mombasa, etc. Apparently James, Ebony’s director, places a high value on such retreats and they are not an uncommon part of this organization’s culture. I think that’s absolutely fantastic. I took a sociology class this past semester called Leadership and Organizations. Among other things it covered how to build effective organizations and vibrant organizational culture. Everything I have seen at Ebony makes good on the theories my professor lectured about. James and the rest of his management team work hard to ensure a friendly, welcoming and supportive environment for the entire staff. A clear mission and vision are articulated and reinforced at every level of the institution. Speaking of that vision, James took time on Saturday night to reiterate it: Ebony Foundation seeks to help their clients create successful businesses so that they may improve their family’s livelihood. Providing credit is just one aspect of that process. James dubbed it “integrated microfinance” – Ebony provides loans, but also training, mentorship, introduction and access to technology, contacts with both government officials and private sector partnerships, etc.

All in all it was a fantastic weekend. Much of the time was spent enjoying the beauty of the land and enjoying each other’s company. It was refreshing to see everyone’s other side, the more relaxed and informal attitudes that can only come out when we’re out of the office. Saturday we spent much of the morning and afternoon on a game drive. We saw lions, a cheetah, elephants, zebras, rhinos, giraffes, and more. The landscape is absolutely breathtaking – stunningly beautiful beyond what my words can describe. I urge anyone who has the chance to visit Kenya to do so because everything I have seen, not only in game parks and reserves but also just in my visits to the field to meet clients has always left me in awe.

At night we made a huge bonfire and cooked our own dinner. That entailed slaughtering, skinning and roasting two goats on an outdoor cooking fire we made. It was the best weekend I have had here so far.

I was also lucky to meet some Maasai. The Maasai are one of the oldest tribes in Kenya and the one that has remained by far the most traditional. They have almost completely maintained the same culture and lifestyle that their ancestors had hundreds of years ago. This rejection of modernity is both a boon and a curse. On one hand, they are respected by all Kenyans for their adherence to tradition. They are a proud and amazing people. On the other hand, there are drawbacks. For instance, it is common for female circumcision to be practiced on girls as they enter their teens. Soon after the girls are usually married off to much older men. Many Maasai children are also not educated at all, or if they are they barely make it past primary school.

• Back in the office after Maasai Mara, we had to move to a new office. The Kenyan government just recently passed legislation regulating microfinance activity in the country for the first time ever. Part of the new laws require all MFI head offices to be located on a quarter acre of land. Renting or owning that much land is not easy, so the provision is one way to ensure that the MFIs in operation are legitimate. It’s a counter for the so-called “briefcase banks” – the con operations that swindle impoverished Kenyans who are seeking loans to better their lives.

• I know I’ve written previously about the frustration of using matatus, the public “bus” system here and the related issue of time culture in Kenya. Well the other day I remarked how there are no traffic lights anywhere in Nakuru. I was told that the government had installed them a few years ago but had to take them down after public pressure. Apparently, people didn’t like waiting (and didn’t understand why they had to wait) at red lights when there were red if there was no traffic moving on the cross street with the green light. I find it ironic that people were impatient about the few seconds wait at a traffic light, but that no complaints are raised about the indefinite and unpredictable amount of time you may have to wait for a matatu to depart, which is entirely up to its driver and conductor.

• Despite the chaos, traffic here works. It just does – pedestrians, animals, carts, rickshaws, bicycle taxis, motorbikes, trucks, and cars all weave through the streets. I’ve rarely seen any accident. But the other day I was given a grim shock. My commute to the new office involves taking a matatu to the town center, walking a few blocks, and then taking a bicycle taxi to the office. On my taxi the other day, we rode past a huge crowd in the middle of a busy street, surrounding a truck that had stopped there. The truck had hit a man transporting vegetables on his bike. He lay there motionless in a pool of his own blood. It was utterly horrific and a very gruesome reminder of just how fragile life is and how quickly one’s fortunes can change.

• Something I have discovered about myself in my time here – and in talking to friends of mine who are also spending the summer abroad – is that I’ve become more patriotic. I’ve always considered myself an American but have never been ardently patriotic or outspoken about it. But for instance, the other day I was watching Black Hawk Down…one of the guys I was watching with said jokingly “the only war America lost” and “I do know this about your country, you’re a big bully.” I found myself feeling oddly defensive and snapped back a bit. But then I checked myself. After all, America’s rep on the international stage isn’t exactly stellar these days.

• Finally, I am craving an everything bagel from a New York City deli. A good bowl of penne vodka and some warm Italian bread would be nice too.

It’s been a while since my last entry and I have a few different momentsI want to cover, so I apologize in advance if the following is a little disjointed and meandering. (And for Russell, I apologize that I’ll most likely switch tenses several times in this entry.) I think the best way to cover the highlights of the past two weeks is list form:

June 23:

James (Ebony Foundation’s director) arranged for me to see the KCB Safari Rally. Basically, it’s a year-long series off-road derbies, or as I like to call it, Kenyan Nascar. (If you’re curious, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Safari_Rally). The rally itself was pretty mundane in my opinion – I was helping to operate a checkpoint (timing the cars as they completed a certain section of the day’s course). Read: I was waving a flag as the cars passed me, which was happening at about 10 minute intervals.

Regardless, I was happy James had arranged the experience for me. At the very least, I got to see more of the beautiful Kenyan countryside on the drive from Nakuru to Baringo and Cabarnet. The real treat, though, was the locals I met while on flag duty. One was a high-school boy of Maasi heritage who has dreams of visiting America one day. He’s also an avid Barack Obama supporter. The best were the fifteen schoolboys, ranging in age from 6 to 12, who kept me company for most of the morning. We had a great time trying to figure each other out. Mostly our communication consisted of them pointing to various objects or body parts and me telling them what the English word for it was. One boy became especially adept at mimicking my voice, mainly my exasperated pleas of “I don’t understand you guys! English, no Swahili!”

At one point I took a picture of them, and they were elated to look at the image on the screen of my digital camera.

They just giggled and screamed and ran around, and made me take a few more of them and then of passersby on the dirt road. Some of these kids were literally wearing rags, most had no shoes. When I let them all take a sip of cold water, I think it was the first time many of them had drank from a commercially produced water bottle. It was just another reminder of how privileged my entire life and everything I know in America has been. We take so much for granted, and here was this group of kids who had literally nothing but were still so happy, thankful, curious, and friendly. I know this is cliché to say, but it makes just about everything we worry about in the course of our daily lives seem to be absolutely trivial. I think I need a Blackberry and these kids were ecstatic playing with the metal chain holding the Timberland logo tag on my boots. What does that say about me, about America, about the developed versus the developing worlds?

June 25:

That Monday I went to the field with Jane and another Ebony officer, Henry. We went to a village/settlement a little bit past Subukia (the place I wrote about in my previous entry) to meet some clients. It was a productive day of journal writing as we were able to meet an entire group of clients. The group, the Baraka Weru Self Help Group, was the pilot group that Ebony had lent money to in the region. Ebony chose Baraka Weru because the group had already established itself – it had its own internal regulations, its own hierarchy and most importantly its own system of table banking. (The approximately 40 active members, before involvement with Eb-F, came together to pool their savings and resources and then dole out loans to various members in turn.)

All of the group members were eager to talk and tell me their stories. At first when Henry explained to them why I was there, some were nervous about what they would say and what they would tell me, especially because most had used their loans for farming and haven’t harvested yet. I assured them that that did not matter, because I was there to learn about their lives in entirety, not just about the loan. I did my best to explain that Kiva lenders delight in learning as much about borrowers and their lives as possible. Once we got underway it was smooth sailing, and they enjoyed the picture taking. At the end, they requested a group picture with me in it – they want a copy so they can hang it in the small room they use for group meetings.

At one point Henry asked me to address the group; I spoke and he translated into Swahili. I tried to convey why I was there, telling them that most of the lenders were ordinary people just like me who felt a sense of global responsibility and we are trying to do our small part to help. We aren’t Bill Gates and can’t fix everything, but we can help in our small way. I told them how awed and inspired I am that despite their hardships, they remain resilient, resourceful, cheerful and perhaps most remarkably hopeful. I thanked them for that, and wished them all good luck. My words felt hollow and inadequate, but when I was done they all clapped heartily. I guess what I said wasn’t lost in translation.

(To my left is the group’s chairman, Peter. Standing in the back row with the blazer and white shirt is Henry. Samuel, the group’s own internal loan officer, is in the back row with the light blue jacket.)

June 28:

Fieldwork this day was conducted in Nakuru town itself. Ebony disperses loans according to a cluster system, with each cluster containing varying levels of funds. Many of the clients in Nakuru town fall among the lower clusters.

One entrepreneur in particular really stood out that day. Meet Lucia,

a 55-year-old mother of three. Her husband works as a matatu (Kenyan equivalent of public buses) conductor, a profession that doesn’t earn nearly enough to cover her family’s expenses. Lucia has been selling bags (purses, backpacks, duffel bags, etc.) for the past 28 years! In the same spot! Her “shop” is a stretch of sidewalk next to the main matatu staging area in Nakuru…a stretch of sidewalk that she has to rent from the local government. For nearly three decades Lucia has been selling bags from that sidewalk – six days a week, every week, rain or shine. But this isn’t what I admire most about Lucia, although the kind of fortitude, patience and strength she must have to keep at it day in and day out is remarkable. What truly struck me is just how incredibly vivacious and friendly Lucia is. From the second you meet her, you like her. She laughs easily, is always smiling and radiates an exuberant and confident feeling. Jimmy, her loan officer and my escort for the day, assured me that this was Lucia’s standard demeanor and not just an act because I was there.

Clarification: In rereading that last paragraph, I admit the tone of it seemingly indicates that she is an aberration. What I want to make clear is that Lucia, while she does stand out in my mind, is not the exception. Rather, most of the clients I have met in my field visits share her outlook on life and good spirits, and that, it seems, is the rule.

This was also the day I discovered that having mail delivered directly to your house or office location (a norm in the West) is not standard operating procedure in Kenya. Everyone’s mail is sent to the post office and put in to mailboxes. You physically go to the post office to collect your mail from the box, like a college campus mail center.

Did you ever consider receiving your mail at your home everyday to be a luxury?

June 29:

Today I got to see the darker side of microfinance: default. Personally, all my previous interaction with microcredit (lectures/seminars/panels/info sessions at college, personal reading and research, and Western press coverage) had never really addressed what happens when a borrower is unable to repay his or her loan.

Since arriving here, I’ve read the Ebony Foundation Operations Manual that fully outlines the steps Eb-F is prepared to take in the case of default. To go in to them in detail would take too long and I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to disclose that anyway. Suffice to say, part of the process is similar to what traditional banks do with regard to recovering their assets when clients default on loan repayments, mortgages, etc.

What I want to recount is the interaction in the field with the group in default. I accompanied an Ebony officer who had called a special meeting of the group. The officer wished to address the entire group, because it is Ebony’s policy to not go down to the individual level in group lending schemes. In other words, if just one person in the group is unable to make a monthly repayment, then the entire group is considered to be in default. Ebony deals with the group as a single entity and does not distinguish amongst its individual members.

The officer conducted the meeting with tact and appreciation for the difficulties of the group (only a few members had failed to make this month’s repayment) but also with a firm hand. Said officer made it clear that the money was a loan and by terms of their agreement must be repaid. The dynamics of group lending (1 group, no individuals in the eyes of Eb-F) were stressed. To be perfectly frank, the scene was reminiscent of a parent scolding a misbehaving child, from the officer’s tone and gestures to the averted eyes and hunched shoulders of the clients. (The officer later admitted to me that maintaining a firm composure in meetings such as these is the hardest and most unpleasant part of the job.)

The meeting was successful in that the officer was able to convey Ebony’s stance clearly and remind the members what group lending was all about. They were given the rest of the day to collect the balance of this month’s payment by whatever means they felt necessary (e.g. dip in to the group’s internal savings or perhaps some members could cover for the members in default for this month). By the time the officer and I left the village a few hours later, the group was still a few thousand shillings short.

June 30:

Saturday night, at dinner, I met some other foreigners who stood out in the restaurant more than I did. They were volunteers from Norway, England and Ireland. It was their last night in Kenya. They had been doing medical volunteer work in Nakuru.

One thing we all agreed on: the people in Kenya are among the friendliest and most hospitable that we have ever met.

(This was a sentiment that I was sure to express a few nights later at dinner with the entire Ebony staff – everyone in the office has been nothing but welcoming and accomodating in helping me get settled and used to life in Kenya.)

July 2:

I commuted home on matatus by myself for the first time. Hooray for life’s little victories.

On one leg of the commute, I paid the conductor 25 shillings. He said something to me in Swahili. In characteristic I-may-be-foreign-but-I’m-not-dumb hubris, I thought he was trying to charge me more. I insisted, “it’s 25 shillings, I know.” He turned away. When I got off at my stop, he put a 5 shilling coin in my hand without a word. Turns out I didn’t know – that leg was only 20 shillings and he had been trying to explain that to me.